It's hard to write when you're feeling low, especially when so many people you know will read about it. But there it is; I'm feeling bad. And, as usual, the guilt about feeling depressed elbows its way to the front row and starts heckling me, shouting shit like, Get it together, asshole. YOU'RE LUCKY. Some new moms are already back at work and there you are, home with your kids all day. Or, Here you go again with your tired bullshit.
Really, I'm leaving you in the dark here. I'm not giving you the full story. Sometimes I give you everything, sometimes I give you too much ( a lot of the time) and sometimes it just feels wrong to share.
Maybe, like Serge always does, I can blame the full moon. Didn't we have one recently? Or hey! I can blame the end of the world! It's happening tomorrow, you know. What a relief. I was just staring tiredly down the barrel of this huge stretch of living I had left to do, not knowing how I'd make it, before I realized the apocalypse was at hand. See, I shouldn't have persevered in trying to write something because it's just a lot of rambling nonsense.
Here's something. Serge and I have this longstanding argument about anti-depressants. Specifically, he thinks I need them and I disagree. He's made no secret of the fact he takes Zoloft. I took something similar and stopped, cold turkey, when I found out I was pregnant with Violet in 2009. Never started back up again because the side effects of stopping freaked me out. When you have electric shocks zinging around your appendages because of something you AREN'T taking, well that makes you reevaluate what exactly is was you were taking.
I think people are over-medicated. There, I said it. I don't think Serge is one of them, I saw what he was like without Zoloft. He, like many other people, really benefits from the right medicine. I don't think I'm one of them. I think I get a standard case of the blues every now and again and then I snap out of it. Serge thinks I was at my best those few short months I was medicated. I find that offensive and sometimes I think he says it because he's someone who has personally seen the benefit of anti-depressants so hell, anyone who is depressed here and there should start swallowing what the doctor's prescribing, you know?
It's not like I can't get out of bed or moon about the house in my pajamas, crying. It's just this overwhelming sense of numbness. And sadness. Numbness and sadness and an occasional wave of hopelessness. But it always goes away on its own. Does that sound like someone who needs to start popping a pill to get by? Or is that a normal human being experiencing the complex emotions of life? Hell, I dunno. Thing is, I don't think these feelings are inspired by my physiology, but by certain circumstances. Like when Serge and I are going through a rough patch. Add that to the fact I just had a baby and I made a huge life change to quit my job and stay-at-home, which is very isolating and a case of the blues makes perfect sense, right?
Can you do me a favor? Can you give me a couple reasons why your marriage isn't as perfect as you'd like everyone to think it is? Can you tell me something you and your husband overcame that you didn't think you would? What was the worst time in your marriage?
I guess I'm telling you what's wrong without really telling you what's wrong.