I'm thinking I'm ready!

okay...breathe. I can do this!

Been gone a while. Have you noticed? Yeah, life has been a tad crazy over here, and well, my brain took a beating. When I say I've been gone I don't only mean from here. I mean from LIFE. Funny (not funny haha) how that works...once your mind starts to slip. It's hardly noticable at first. It's all so gradual. It's not until it's about 1/2 gone that you start to wonder what's going on, thinking, "something's not right here"

But you push it aside and figure it'll get better, tomorrow.

Well 2 years of tomorrows have past and things weren't getting better. Things were getting worse even. Not good. Let me just tell you, I wish someone would have told me about Post Pardum Depression (wait - somebody probably did - or nevermind that!) Yeah, that's some bad mamma-jamma stuff going on there. PPD. yuck.

Briefly (as briefly as I can tell a story) let me tell you how this went down. After 2 years of feeling on the edge and wondering were my brain went I really started to slip. About 4 months ago, after I figured I REALLY should have been doing better after having Kate, things got icky, in my brain. I wasn't coping. I couldn't do anything. I mean anything without it feeling totally overwhelming. And if I did start something it was nearly impossible to finish. Not a good thing when I have a "completed project" type job.

Then the bad thoughts started coming. The kind of thoughts like, "hey, if I got hit by a bus right now (and yes, died) it wouldn't be that bad." The first time I had this thought I wondered, "humm...that's a new one, never felt like that before" It wasn't like I wanted to jump in front of the bus. Or be driving the bus. I didn't feel like causing and deadly accident or actually hurting myself. But it was a very real and clear thought that it would be okay if something fatal happened to me. Then the thoughts happened more often, like every week. Then every day.

Then I stopped.

These are not normal thoughts. Not good thoughts. They are not okay. And I needed to stop having them. I went to my doctor and he totally understood, diagnosed me with PPD and put me on Lexapro. Within hours I started feeling better. (and yes it's probably in my head that I started feeling better so quickly, but it was in my head that I felt crappy so it works out)

I'm now medicated and things are better. Clear. Hadn't realized how fuzzy the last 2 years have been, since I had Sarah. I've all but lost them. I don't really remember anything of Sarah being 1 (which bites ass because I love 1 year olds). I was pregnant with Kate during that time and I was, not myself.

I'm SO thankful that I didn't have any negative feelings towards my children. I never resented them. I never felt like hurting them. I never felt like I wasn't taking good care of them. I never stopped loving them. For that I'm lucky. Not everyone who has PPD is so lucky.

My children are truly a joy to me now. It's nice being able to watch them without the fog. Damn they're cute! They continued growing and learning and being funny and adorable while I was fuzzy. Well I'm fuzzy no more and I'm so grateful for that. I'd hate to have lost anymore time with them.

So I'm back, and ready to carry on. Many funny things have happened while I was away that I'll try to get out of my brain and make funny here. I'm feeling better but don't hold your breathe on that last part! ;)