Mommy and The Brain

Last night I heard myself say, "Why am I even here?". I was frustrated that no one was listening. 

But I'm a mom. There are at least a few million meme's out there about no one listening to Moms until they (insert "funny" emotional/physical/verbal explosion here) right? You've seen them. And moms across the world nod and smile to themselves while they click {Like}, or click a heart in solidarity of sisterhood. "I'm here for you Sister! We stand strong together in our frustration of being ignored, unappreciated and mostly invisible." 

But are we really standing together? 

Are we really supporting one another by laughing at the problem. I guess sometimes we are. Because at times we feel like all we can do is laugh, or we'll dissolve into oblivion. 

But is appreciating the problem the same as supporting? I don't know. I'm asking. 

There is a part of me that is glad the memes are there, I guess. Because yeah, I feel a little less alone knowing that I'm not the only invisible Mom out there. 

But I am the only invisible Mom in here, and it's lonely as shit.

That being said, you may notice my last blog post is dated over two years ago. Where have I been? What have I been doing?

Depends on who you ask, I guess.

But I'll give you my side. 

I've been right here. And yet, at the same time I've been very lost and afraid and not here at all.

I have anxiety, depression, and debilitating attention deficit disorder. Yes, there are funny memes about all of these as well. Depending on the day I may raise my eyebrows, smirk, click {Like} and move on, or I won't even have the energy/desire/will to do that.

I've retreated into a scary and dark place, all the while trying to smile and show up to volunteer shifts and put on a happy and strong face at school events and meetings. When I can muster the strength to emerge, its terrifying and exhausting and I come running home to hide again. 

But I'm on medication, and some days I'm OK. Some days I can handle doing the laundry, making a pot of coffee, watching the news. Other days I can't, so I must have done something wrong to cause this adverse reaction. I'm ON medication. It's supposed to work. I just have to wait another day. I'm sure it will work tomorrow. I'll feel OK tomorrow. I can do it tomorrow. I can catch up, make it all better and do it all ... tomorrow.

Two years of tomorrows have come and gone. I've lost friends, jobs, hobbies, interests, and most recently, almost our house and dog. 

If you've experienced it or studied it, anxiety and depression can have marvelous reactions to medication. There are many many kinds of medications out there, but they all require a build-up of the medication to become effective. It's not like a Tylenol where you take it and in 30-45 minutes you feel better. They don't work like that. And again, every BODY is different. What works for you may not be what works for your cousin, but what does work for your cousin could be what works for your neighbor. Finding the right medication can take years because of the amount of time needed to wait for the dosage to regulate and for your chemistry to react to it. But if it doesn't work, then you have to wean off of it in order to start another one. We're told to wait about 6 weeks to feel the full effect of a new medication. Two weeks weaning off of one that may not have worked, six more weeks waiting to see if this new one works... repeat. Again. Then again. Then maybe we feel a slight change. And we've been in the dark for so long that this glimmer of hope, this tiny spark, has allowed us to hope. There might be something here, so lets not change this one, lets ride it out a little longer. Up the dosage, make other small lifestyle changes, it may really work.

Two years of waiting for that spark to come again. It was there. It was right there. That one day I could honest to God smile at something that brought me joy. Or was it a day? Was it really a dream? Was it really there at all? Was I just so tired of not feeling good that I imagined I did in an effort to MAKE myself feel better?

My Aunt died last month. She too suffered from depression and anxiety, but she was always so full of light and a magical sparkle that when she began to slip away, I retreated from her. I stopped emailing her, stopped answering the phone when she called, and couldn't bring myself to call her  back when she left voicemails asking to talk to her "Little Carter", even though I was taller that her by the time I was 10. I kept thinking she was the light and magic that forever made everything OK, so if her light was going out, there was no way I could bear to see it, hear it, acknowledge it. She'd get better, then I could lean on her again. But she didn't get better. She got worse. She drank vodka all day, and her sweet little body just couldn't process the chemicals any longer and it shut down. Her brothers, my father and uncle, tried to grab her on the way down, but she was too tired to hold on. 

Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain both committed suicide recently, making news headlines around the world. We again are reminded that depression, anxiety and other forms of mental illness are all around us. Fame, money, notoriety, fancy clothes, Oscars and Emmy's, and/or starring roles in movies and TV shows don't make us immune. Pictures of Robin Williams are back in the news as well.

Aunt Sister's suicide was slow and painful and not mainstream news, but it was enough for me to realize the medicine I've been waiting to kick in again and show me that spark that I saw that one day may not be the right one for me after all.

I had made a few appointments with my Dr to discuss my medications, but something would come up and I'd cancel my appointment and forget to reschedule. A few weeks before Aunt Sister died, she "missed" an appointment too. By the time she went to the Dr, it was ultimately too late. I don't know what exactly happened, but I know she went back home with what I understand to be "anti convulsion" medication, and her estranged husband was to be by her side to administer them if/when needed. There are bits and pieces of the following week that I was told, but not sure what all is real, or third party interpretation, or purely made-up. But regardless, I called my Dr, made an appointment and WENT. 

Over the past two weeks I have been weaning off of my "old" medication and this morning I started my "new" one. It will be a few weeks before I can tell if anything is better, but I can tell already that coming off of the old one has improved things already.  And I'm able to write again. I'm here, in front of my computer spilling my guts on what I think and feel.

Also within those two weeks, a friend invited me over out of the blue. "Lets go get drinks, or grab lunch, or just come over for s'mores", she said. Then she told me she'd noticed I'd been withdrawn for the past two YEARS. She hadn't thought I wanted to talk about it, so she'd left me alone, but saw something I posted on FB and realized I was ready to talk, so she jumped back in with two feet. 

WHAT?!?! I'm NOT invisible? There is someone who gives a shit?!?! What? How? When? Where? I'm so confused. I've been living in this hole, not letting anyone in, pushing everyone away, thinking no one cared or noticed I was gone, and low and behold, someone was standing there at the gate waiting for the the whole time.

I mentioned to another friend that this friend had said she'd noticed me withdrawing over the past two years, and this second friend said, "Yes! I've seen that too!" Again ... WHAT?!?! ANOTHER friend has missed me? How could this be? I was sure no one cared. Sure of it. But ... nope. They were right here the whole time. One literally Right. Next. Door. 

Letting Go

Yesterday I let go of a lot of grudges. Most of which no one even knew I was harboring. Even myself.

I was hurt by several people in many of my circles whom I felt had wronged me in some way. And some of those ways were simply because they were happy. Some were in a better financial place than we were so they were able to do things that we couldn't do and I didn't want to see their happy escapades. Some were able to go to the gym that we can't afford, or they got personal trainers which we can't afford, and I didn't want to see my friends working out, sweating, smiling, having a great time, and doing these things both together and solo and without me. Some were friends with people whom I am not friends with and I didn't want to see these people out and about having fun, again ... WITHOUT ME.

Jealousy is an issue I've dealt with my entire life in some form or another. I have always wanted to be the best, or I didn't want to play. I'm not your BEST friend, then I'm not your friend at all. If I'm not the favorite, the immediate blue-ribbon-winner and the best at whatever I try, I give up. No practice for this chick. Nope. If I can't run a marathon at 240 pounds after 6+ years of sedimentary life, then I'm not even going to put on a pair of tennis shoes.

So, by simply clicking the "unfollow" button on Facebook, I was able to sweep all the joys and successes of my friends under the rug. Out of sight, out of mind. But then I realized that's not what friendship is. 

When a good friend's son became very ill, I wasn't "following" her on Facebook, so I didn't know about it. I wasn't there to support her and tell her that I was thinking about her and hoping he got better. When a friend was in a motorcycle wreck, I wasn't there to tell him that I would bring over a huge dish of cheesy meaty goodness with zero vegetables to make him feel better. These are just a few of the things that I missed out on. Thing that FRIENDS need to be there for each other to support one another.

Instead of being able to be a friend, I was shutting the door so I couldn't see what was going on in their lives. But in that time, I became slowly more bitter, even sadder, more introverted, and more of a loner. I don't want to even leave my house, y'all. And I don't want to be in my house either because I feel like the walls are closing in on me. I've created this little cocoon to protect myself from seeing other people happy because I am not.

You know what else I noticed? The more I ignored them, the more they ignored me. But wait ... why aren't they contacting me and saying, "Ahem .. Um ... Carter Ann ... where are you? What's wrong? Why aren't you telling me how awesome my vacation pictures are, why aren't you telling me you're thinking about my sick kid, why aren't you cheering me on during my latest 5K?" Nope. None of that. What happened was simply ... they stopped paying attention to me to. You know why? Because all relationships take work. They take a door that swings both ways.

So I just went through Facebook yesterday and I "Followed" all of the people that I had unfollowed. I then went back several posts into people feeds and liked or commented on things that I had missed over my pouting stint, and realized that I was breathing so much better. It was like I had lifted a shroud around my head that was doing nothing but keeping me inside. The joys, accomplishments, fears, tragedies, and celebrations hadn't stopped. I had just missed them. Me. By myself. Without them. Not them without me. It was me without them. 

So, to YOU ... 
I forgive you for having fun without me.
I forgive you for having more money than me.
I forgive you for having opinions different than mine.
I forgive you for staying friends with the person who hurt me.
I forgive you for having a life that revolves around your family and not mine.
I forgive you for needing time to figure things out.
I forgive you for having a "group" that I'm not a member of.
I forgive you for hurting me.
I forgive you for lying to me.
I forgive you for being thinner than me.
I forgive you for having the things that I can't have.
I forgive you for turning your back.
I forgive you for trying too hard.
I forgive you for having no clue that I was so sad, lost, hurt, and scared.
I forgive you for carrying on when I stopped.

And I hope that one day you can forgive me too.

And to YOU, who DID step forward and ask me out of the blue one day what was wrong. To YOU ... I can't thank you enough. I still have the email you sent me, and I still look at it. YOU helped get me out of this. YOU saw that something was wrong, when I didn't even know that I was in such a bad place, and YOU took the time to reach out. THANK YOU.