Well, I’ve stopped going to the psychiatrist and the therapist. Our insurance is changing and I don’t want to get too involved and then switch everything. I’m open to continuing with this therapist. I really like her and it seems like we’re pretty compatible. The psychiatrist though…not so much. Everything is happening just like last time. I went through a period of severe anxiety problems and now I’m beginning to get mired down in depression. I still have anxiety attacks but I am struggling more with the depression. It’s hard to make myself get up and do anything during the day. I constantly fight tears and I don’t enjoy anything. During my first bought with these issues, I took a combination of an anti-depressant and an anti-anxiety drug. They never seemed to work on their own but the combo helped immensely. I keep telling the psychiatrist that the anti-anxiety pill she has prescribed does little more than put me to sleep. It’s nice to get a full night’s sleep but it’s making me drowsy for half the day and does nothing for my anxiety attacks or depression. The psych doctor has diagnosed me (same as last time) with a severe anxiety disorder and major depressive disorder. However, she seems to only be interested in treating the anxiety. I asked her to consider putting me on a different anti-anxiety drug and adding an anti-depressant. She just said that I haven’t gotten the proper dosage and upped it again. I didn’t fill the script and now I’m looking for a different doctor. I’m going to my regular GP next week and I’m hoping she will listen to me better. She always has in the past and I really trust her.

I’m a little disappointed that this psych doctor just brushed off my concerns. It’s not like this is new to me. I know I’m not a doctor but I have gone through this before and I know what works. Shouldn’t that affect what she does? Whenever I’ve told her about the depression getting worse she always asks me if I’m having suicidal thoughts. When I tell her no then she says it’s not an issue. Why do I have to get to such a low point before she’ll treat me?! I’m grateful that this has been caught early enough that I may not get to that point again. I don’t want to have those thoughts again. I want to get treatment while I can still think clearly. There is an edge you can go over and the illness takes over. I hit that bottom and I never want to go back there. That’s why I’m trying to get help now. For my sake, my daughter and my husband I am begging for someone to help me. Please pray that we find the right doctor. God has someone out there and I need to listen to Him.

Sometimes I feel myself editing my blog because I don’t want to offend or worry anyone. I’m trying to break myself of that habit because there are some scary things in my life that I really need to talk about. Plus, I want anyone who’s gone through or going through something similar to find encouragement and know that they are not alone.

About a month ago, I realized that I was having more anxiety attacks. They were more frequent and very serious. I also had basically stopped sleeping. I would go to bed at night and lay in bed waiting for something to happen. Even after Sophie began sleeping through the night I would keep myself on alert “just in case”. My mind would race and I would get so scared. Occasionally I would doze off and wake up with a start, frantically listening to hear the baby breathing. I have always been afraid of the dark since I was a child but it was getting worse. I finally got up the nerve and told Ben about everything. He encouraged me to start finding a psychiatrist and a therapist. I knew I had to go back on medication but I felt so defeated. It feels like a step back. I did so well off of meds for about a year. Pregnancy really stabilized me and I felt like I had dodged the whole postpartum depression thing. There had to be a way for me to get through this on my own. I felt like I didn’t have enough faith in God to get me through it. I made the appointments and went while still fighting it in my head.

Now I’m back on medication and sleeping regularly. I fought it at first but I know I can be a better wife, mother and all-around person if I have a good night’s sleep. I like my doctors and I can see God moving through all of this. I know it’s going to be OK. Today was a bad day. The agoraphobia has come back. I cried the whole way to the doctor this morning and didn’t feel safe until I got home. Please keep me in your prayers and pray also for my husband. He has to deal with a lot and having an imbalanced wife can’t make things any easier.

Throughout my life I have dealt with fear and anxiety. Sometimes it was irrational and sometimes I had a reason. Motherhood is fast becoming a big reason.

There are days where Sophie takes her naps, eats her bottles and plays quietly all day long. Those days are few and far between. Most days are spent trying to get her to nap because I can see her little red-rimmed eyes and I know she is so sleepy. I try to give her a bottle because she’s almost chewed her fingers off in hunger. I play with her, lay her down to play by herself and give her toys. All of this is usually met with fits of screams and tears. I feel like I can’t do anything right. I feel like I’m making it up as I go along. I feel isolated and alone. That’s when the fear hits. My mind races with thoughts;

“You aren’t feeding her enough.”

“She’s not developing correctly and it’s your fault.”

“You can’t protect her from anything.”

“What a horrible mother you are!”

Everything piles up and I end up in tears. The fear is enormous.

Fortunately, God is bigger. I ask him daily to take away my fear and replace it with his peace. I try to follow His rules for parenting knowing that He doesn’t expect me to get it right every time. I watch Sophie grow and thrive. She smiles, kicks and coos every day.

But some days are still hard.

OK, I’m going to use this post to vent. It may be a little hard for some to read. In other words, Grandma, CLOSE YOUR BROWSER NOW. I’m OK and I’ll be even better once I get everything off of my chest.

My moods have been all over the map but it seems like I have the same reaction to any kind of stress. I have cried so much that I think I’m going to be dehydrated in a week. I wake up in the morning and I always feel sick. This is similar to my first trimester except for one small difference. Now I can almost keep everything down and then…POKE. Sophie kicks me in just the right spot and I yak. This makes me cry because I feel so out of control over my own body. Then I drag my body around trying to do laundry and dishes and I cry because I can’t d everything I want to do. I get too tired and I have to stop. I’ve been napping during the day because it’s hard for me to sleep any longer than 3-4 hours at a time. If I sleep too long and don’t get enough done during the day…I cry. Last night I TOTALLY botched dinner. I burned the chicken and put too much water in the rice. I had taken too long of a nap and hadn’t gotten to shower. I stunk, I had heartburn, the dinner was terrible and my wonderful husband came home to a basketcase. I felt like a winner. I have an awesome opportunity to serve at church during the week but I can’t do it right now because I can’t fit behind the steering wheel. I feel useless and brainless.

Then I sit down and I pray. I remember that God loves me and cries when I hurt. He puts amazing people in my life like my husband, my mother, my grandma and my friends. He gave me a church where I can worship and serve. Then I put my hands on my swelling belly and feel the kicks of a beautiful little girl that He has given us. He knows my faults and still trusts me enough to give me this wonderful child to raise. I stop crying and smile again. I’m loved and safe.

Those pregnancy hormones are really starting to kick in. I read stories about women bursting into tears, lashing out in irritation and getting depressed with no real reason or motivation. As someone who has had anxiety problems and emotions that always ran hot, I wondered how pregnancy would affect me. So far I have not seen a huge difference. No panic attacks, no crying fits, handling hard situations with prayer and a wonderful husband.

Last week my doctor told me that my blood pressure was borderline. She wanted me to come back in a week to check it out. I’ve had blood pressure problems in the past and she agreed that it was not due to the pregnancy. I went back yesterday and got checked. Everything was totally normal. The nurse asked if I was under any undue stress last week and I really couldn’t think of anything other than the possibility of drowning in laundry. I also have a sinus infection which could be affecting it. (Yes, Grandma. I got medicine and I’m taking it now!) Mama had taken me to the doctor and by coincidence my sister was there getting some tests done. We met up with her and walked down to the pharmacy to pick up my script. About halfway there I began to feel odd. I was sweating but cold and felt dizzy and off balance. I began to be scared but there was really no reason. Mama asked if we should go get my blood pressure read again but I told her I had to go to the bathroom first. I was confused and thinking wildly about what it could be. I locked myself in a stall and began to breathe big calming breaths. When that slowed everything down and I began to feel right again I realized what was happening. It was a panic attack. I haven’t had one in months. I willed myself to calm back down and go back out. I began to be more aware of my reactions and feelings. Everything seemed to swell around me and there were too many voices. Yep. That’s a panic attack. I got my meds and Mama and I left. As soon as we were in the car, it was easy to calm down.

It’s been so long since I had to deal with something like this. I used to be able to recognize the signs right away and use my coping techniques. I knew my triggers and watched carefully. Yesterday afternoon scared me and now I’m a little unsure of going out. I’m in prayer and keeping myself standing. I’m thankful for a loving God that I can trust during all of this. I’m thankful for an understanding husband who wants to help in any way he can. I know that I’ll be more than fine. How comforting to have no doubts!

I’m agoraphobic. I don’t think many people really understand what that means. They think that it means that a person is afraid to be outside. While that is partly true there is a lot more to it.

Agoraphobia is all about control. People with anxiety disorders become afraid when they feel out of control. It’s easier to control your environment when you are in a small place with no outside distractions. I feel in control when I’m in my bedroom or on my couch. Putting a foot down on the floor sometimes makes me dizzy and frightened. It seems far away and risky. Getting out of bed and forcing myself to get ready for the day sometimes takes an almost Herculean effort. I begin to think that something bad will happen if I get too far away from my comfort zones. I’ll stare at my legs sometimes and wonder if they’re attached to my body. I lose feeling in my arms. It’s an almost out-of-body experience that makes me feel like screaming to put my mind back where it belongs.

Being outside in large crowds can quickly become a nightmare. Ben has learned my outward signs that I’m in trouble and is wonderful about bringing me back to reality. He’s patient when I need to take a break or need to remove myself completely. He doesn’t make me feel guilty about it and always makes me feel like it’s going to be OK. I feel very safe around him.

I ride the train to work. I have a panic attack nearly every day on the train. I feel trapped and surrounded by people that become threatening in my mind. There’s no escape and I have to force myself to breathe normally. My heart races, my hands shake and I feel cold all over. When I feel myself start to “float away” then I’ll bring myself back. I’ve learned to do this in healthier ways like journaling or playing solitaire. I used to self injure to bring myself back. While this is very effective, it is horribly unhealthy. I’m reluctant to admit this here. It’s very personal but I feel free from it when I talk very plainly. I have to fight those urges now but it’s becoming easier.

This site is becoming a safe haven for me when the world gets a little too big. I’m very thankful for it.

I began my time at Timberlawn in the outpatient program. I went to group therapy, music therapy, art therapy, anger management and other related classes. I remember the first day when I sat down in a group therapy session that had already begun. I fought back tears and wondered if I could run out and still catch Mama. I was too frozen with fear to move so it wouldn’t have worked. After that group, we merged with the inpatients and went to another class. This was even more intimidating. This is what I was trying to avoid. I didn’t want to go inpatient. Just being in the locked down area made me even more uncomfortable. I wanted OUT. My group was let out to go to lunch. Walking into the cafeteria, I was transported back to school. I didn’t have friends there. Where would I sit? Luckily, the people in my small group invited me to sit with them.

The week went on and I got more comfortable. I began to speak out in group and really started to react well to the art and music therapy. I even started a journal which was something I really struggled against. Once I started to write, I couldn’t stop. That spiral became my security blanket. I have since filled up two small spiral notebooks and have started on a third larger booklet. I carry it with me wherever I go. After 3 days in the outpatient therapy, I had a bad reaction to one of our classes. Something hit harder than I expected and I realized that if I went home something bad would happen. I wrote a note and gave it to one of the therapists before lunch. They immediately put me on lockdown and said that I would be staying. I signed more papers, called my mother and my husband and went to my new room. I was an inpatient.

Fear pulls at my chest
Rests like a weight
Sweat beads up on my forehead
Am I going to make it?

Disappointed in myself
So many normal people
Why do I get to be different?
Concentrate on breathing

Pretentious music
Pretentious poetry
Now anger mingled in with the fear
Black swirls in red paint

Picture the canvas in your mind
Replace the red with sage
Stare at the black until it changes
Creamy, feathery strokes on a calming green

Breathe a little easier
Hands stop shaking
Stomach stops trembling
Pray for peace

Oh my Good Gravy…I’ve been back on my meds at a really high dosage for a couple of weeks now. They are actually working this time.

DON’T BREATHE.

- having shoes that click just like Mama’s did.
- eating cupcakes for breakfast because Mama can’t tell you no.
- getting bad news and knowing that Mama can’t take care of it.
- eating another cupcake because Mama would totally understand.