Rollercoaster

One of the things I have been reluctant to blog about has been my own emotional rollercoaster.  I spend entire days wanting to cry, even when things are not necessarily going badly.  Although they go badly enough of the time that the overlap may be somewhat inconsequential.

I actually have had another mom tell me she chose happiness.  That made me feel ashamed of my own inability to control this.  I have talked to my doctor ("Oh, that sounds like menopause and stress.  No pill for that.")  I meditate.  I read like crazy.  And still no fix.  No button to turn off the thought of 'My life sucks that bad that I wish I hadn't been born.'  And no turning off the desire to cry all day, but the inability to get more than a few tears out.  That tightness in my chest and the turning into anger at our extended family for not helping out.  The chronic neck pain and headaches that result from my body's complaints about having to internalize all that negativity.

It is just easier to be angry than sad.  Blaming someone else rather than fate feels more like it COULD be fixed, if someone would just do their frigging job.  But, you know, there is no fix for what is wrong in our lives.  There is only continuous hard work hoping someday it will be better for Nathan.  But no guarantee.  And the longer it goes on, the worse the future looks.

I should know better than to be ashamed.  I have had bouts with depression and anxiety before.  I finally diagnosed myself (after severe times in medical school and college and residency when educated people completely ignored my symptoms and told me to quit being so annoying) and took antidepressants.  The first one helped the bad thoughts so much that when it gave me hundreds of pimple-like lesions across my face, chest and arms it took me 3 days to stop taking it.

This time is different.  It is intimately tied to Nathan's difficulties.  In general, the roller coaster he is on seems to be the driver for my own.  I would say 80% of the really awful days I have are awful days for him.  But 20% just show up on their own. 

So if this is just menopause and stress, where is the help?  I am miserable a huge amount of time.  Are the professionals just telling me to suck it up?

Ironically, it is another thing that makes me depressed.  If there is no help, no way of lifting myself out of this, how do I know it will end?  It seems like an endless cycle.  I feel like a lab rat on an exercise wheel and the only certain outcome is being sacrificed for science.

I hope someone is keeping good data.

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