Vodka and Soda

not all pictures are of happy memories

 

 

the other day, my hubs showed me this picture he stumbled across while looking at old photos.  most of the time, old photographs ellicit feelings of happiness; this photograph does not.  in fact, i'm reminded of dark times and sadness.

this is me in 2009 at the height of my depression, about a month before i sought treatment.    i was about 105lbs here; my  normal weight is about 130lbs.  

i remember this day clearly; it was a birthday party for our friends' daughter and i contemplated not going because i felt so awful.  i struggled to find the courage to face people and i just didn't want to be out in public.  depression does that; it causes you to alienate everyone around you, including yourself.  all you want to do is lie in bed and hide in your house, enveloped by your own fears, anxiety and darkness.

i can't believe how thin i was here.  i was wearing a size 00 shorts and still had to wear a belt.  that shirt was a size xs and i was swimming in it.  you could see all the bones sticking out of my body; if i turned around, my rib cage popped out of my back.  my arms were rail thin and my hips jutted out.  in other words, i had no fat on my body and i was 'sharp' because my bones stuck out every which way.   people who saw me walked right by  because they didn't even recognize my face.  luckily, i was wearing sunglasses in this picture (and i never took them off that day) because it hid my eyes which were pretty  much black pits of dispair.  this sounds like a line in a creepy novel but it's true -- my eyes gave away my state of mind because there wasn't anything but sadness behind them.  they had sunk into my face; i had black circles underneath from being up all night for almost 2 years because of the crazy anxiety that prevented me from sleeping more than an hour at a time.    

although this chapter in my life has thankfully ended, it still remains crystal clear in my mind - what i went through, how i felt, how dark everything was and how desperate i felt.   this is why i cherish every moment i have with my family and friends; why i don't sweat the small stuff, enjoy what i have and most of all, live every moment.

i have several pictures of me during this time, most of which i don't look at but once in a while, i pull them out to remember that time and how far i've come.  in a weird way, i use it as a reminder to never take anything for granted because at one point, i nearly lost everything.

looking back ... 2 years of awesome

 

[photo location:  anguilla, BWI]

i was in a very different place around this time 3 years ago.   darkness, despair and sadness surrounded me daily but this month 3 years ago, i was finally cured of my depression and every june, i think about where i was and how far i've come.  while i don't focus on what happened, i will also never forget it because it'll always serve as a reminder that there's nothing more important than life, family and friends.   i've written about my journey several times; all of the posts can be found here. 

the  last two years have been totally awesome - happiness, love and laughter surround me.  

my depression put a strain on my marriage and it took us a long time to get back what we had but my marriage is stronger than ever.   i have the best, most supportive and loving husband in the world who is all kinds of sexy man-hunk.  i know, barf.  sorry y'all.

i love being a mother and it still makes me sad that i lost that first year with kayla.

i am head over heels madly in love with kayla.  she's the most brilliant, adorable, gorgeous and hilarious kid ever.   i can't imagine my life without her.

i thought i had a close relapse towards something which i thought was my depression coming back but after a session with my psychiatrist, it's gone (thank goodness).  since my depression, i'm now aware of my triggers and what i need to do to get back on track.

when work was going on, it was fun, challenging and most importantly, interesting.  to be honest, i was a little disappointed that i had to leave (the project) because it was my baby.

i haven't been this healthy in years and i'm so proud of myself.  i've been feeling so awesome because i'm doing ass-kicking workouts that are changing my body; like, insanity ass-kicking.  i'm going on 6 months strong and i pat myself on the back every single time.

i'm off for the summer and loving every.single.minute.  you all must be tired of my life of a housewife posts and tweets by now.

with the gorgeous summer weather, i want to spend more time with my awesome friends.  wonderland?  zoo? playdates?  shopping?  dinners/drinks?  i'm available!!!  last weekend we had an impromptu bbq and everyone - including the kidlets - had a blast.  i want to have more of those so friends, consider this  your warning.

 

here's to an awesome summer! 

362 day photo challenge, day 12 - skinny isn't always pretty

 

 this is me back in 2009 and 2010. 

no matter what i ate, i just couldn't put on weight.  i drank ensure and boost (meal supplements) 3 times a day and still couldn't put on any weight.

i'm 108lbs in this picture; a weight i haven't been since i was in grade 9.

for someone who could never get those model-skinny legs (and i worked out for years), i had them during this time.

but i was not healthy.

while i always say how i want to be skinny, i don't want to be skinny like this.  not ever again.

there is such a thing as too skinny.

i'd prefer to be a little plump and happy than skinny and unhappy. 

(ps - this was not due to an eating disorder; this is what depression can do)

 

 

the dark corners of OCD

 

while organizing and purging our basement, hubs found my old baby logs.  looking through them brought back a flood of memories, most of which made me sad.  one would think that old baby logs would detail happy things or major milestones such as kayla's first steps or first words, but these books were filled with pages and pages of notes - details and scribbles around kayla's feeding and sleeping habits; the two things  i was obsessed with during my depression.

when i was diagnosed with clinical depression, part of that diagnosis included a form of obsessive compulsive disorder; the exact wording my psychiatrist used was "OCD traits" so i'm guessing that it was a mild form of OCD.  it wasn't a severe case but enough for me to constantly obsess over certain things to a point that i had to meticulously detail everything otherwise i would lose my mind.  i went so far as to make hubs do the same thing and if i came home to find nothing written in the logs, i would freak out.  and i'm not talking about getting upset and arguing with him, but seeing those blank pages would send me straight into a panic attack and i would literally have a meltdown.  it may sound strange when you hear about people who have to flick the light switch 50 times or lock the door 25 times before leaving the house but in the mind of a person suffering from OCD, they absolutely have no control over their compulsions; it is a way for them to control their fear and helps keep their anxiety at a tolerable level.  unless you've suffered from OCD, the anxiety you feel over the things you fear is unbearable, crippling and down right paralyzing.  you do whatever you can to keep your fear from becoming a reality and it's these compulsions - whatever they manifest into - that provides temporary relief, a way to give you some form of control over these fears.  to be frank, it was fucking exhausting to always be living in fear because every day is a battle trying to stave off the fright that haunts you. 

for me, those log books were my way of attempting to control the situation.  at the time, i felt so lost, scared and anxious about kayla's eating habits that i felt, thought and believed if i wrote down every single detail and analyzed the information (which i did every night for hours on end), i would somehow discover the key to her eating issues, our problems would disappear and i would become normal again.  this went on for over a year.  flipping through those pages and reading what i wrote made me feel sad; i remembered the anger and resentment i felt; i remembered the fear that gripped my entire being and i remembered how disconnected i felt towards kayla.  that memory is the worst because she's such a blessing in our lives. 

i've written about my depression  before and while that chapter of my life is closed and behind me, i sometimes can't help but think about the person i was.  i'm not ashamed of what i went through but those weren't the happiest times of my life and seeing these log books and looking at my frenzied writing reminded just how bad things were back then.  while i wanted to keep them (as a reminder, i suppose?),  i decided it no longer belonged in my house.  i will never forget that time in my life but i want to move forward in life and not dwell on the past.

milestone

this month - june 26 to be exact - is a big milestone for me.  if you've  been following my blog, you'll know that i went through a lot after kayla was born.  writing about my depression was cathartic to say the least and combining it with my meds and regular psychotherapy sessions was what catapulted me towards a healthy recovery.   you can read about my road to recovery here and here.  

i chose this picture because it always conjures up a mixture of emotions within me.   looking at it, one would think of peace and happiness but in reality, sadness and tradgey surrounds it.  this picture was taken during my honeymoon in anguilla 2004.  i was a new bride, happy as could be but 5 days into our honeymoon, i received an emergency phone call about my father who had suddenly passed away from a massive heart attack.  following that horrific call, those were the most tragic and saddest months of my life.  that was how things were for me during my depression; it was as if i was reliving my father's death all over again and all i felt was blackness and despair.

i look back at the person i had become - the person i was for nearly two years - and i still can't believe that was me.  what i put my family through; how i scared them; that whole year of kayla's life i basically missed ....  it still brings tears to my eyes when i think about it.  i still have some of my meds left over in my drawer that i can't seem to throw out; i suppose i keep it as a reminder of how far i've come and where i never want to go again.

and so, on june 26, it will mark one year that i successfully went off my meds.  it was this very month that my psychiatrist declared me 100% cured and i remember bouncing out of that office on top of the world.  i battled that horrible, debilitating depression and won with my family on the other side waiting for me.

so yeah, you could say that this month is a big deal to me.   

Reflection

This picture seems all too familiar to me because not too long ago, it felt like I was stumbling along this foggy, dark road trying to find my way and keep my head above water when in fact, I was sinking.

Almost one year ago, I wrote about my depression and this June marks one year since I was successfully treated from postpartum depression, high anxiety disorder and mild OCD.  That was the month that I finally weaned off my meds and ended my psychotherapy treatments. It was a long, hard road; most of it dark and filled with despair but with the help, love and support from my family and friends, I pulled through.  I was lucky that my family kept pushing me to talk to a doctor, insisting that something was wrong because if it weren't for them, I seriously think that I would not be here today.  Yes, it was that bad and I won't lie:   I was probably a few months away from suicide.

But, I have never felt better. 

My  journey to recovery was not an easy one.  It took me over one year to actually believe that something was wrong and then another few months of whispers, random calls,  emails and a lot of pleading and begging from family and friends asking if I was ok and/or to seek treatment.  By then, I was a complete mess.   For a long time, I successfully hid my depression and I became good at pretending things were fine but the sleep deprivation and anxiety became too much for me to handle; too overwhelming.  I rarely ate and barely slept.   My clothes just hung on my body.  I only ate because I felt I had to but I had no appetite.  If something  happened - regardless of how minute - I would toss whatever I was eating into the garbage and sink into a pit of despair.  I lived in fear 24/7 but I was never quite sure what I was afraid of.  Living with that kind of anxiety, thinking that something is going to go wrong any minute is what pushed me over the edge.  That constant cloud of fear hanging over my head is what robbed me of sleep, forcing me awake for hours at night; the anxiety eating away at me.

My relationship with friends and family suffered.  People rarely saw me or Kayla.  For the first year of Kayla's life, my close cirlce of friends barely saw her and watched her grow through random pictures I posted on Facebook.  I yelled at my husband all the time; my mother too.  Our house turned into a landmine and they never knew when I was going to blow because any little thing would set me off.  And it wasn't one thing that would upset me; it was random, unpredictable things that would cause me to break down or get super mad and I would start yelling, crying or both.  How they survived that year is beyond me. 

This picture was taken about a week before I decided to see a psychiatrist.  I was at one of my best friend's house and with tears in his eyes, he took me aside and asked me what was going on.  Our kids are just a few months apart and we had dreamed of the two of them growing up together as BFFs but Kayla rarely saw him.  In fact, we rarely saw anyone.   I can't remember if I actually told him how I was feeling; probably not because at that time, I didn't want to admit that anything was wrong yet I was at my breaking point.  In this picture, I was 108lbs.  My regular weight is about 125lbs.  Depression is a strange animal; you desperately want to feel and get better but you feel ashamed to admit how you're feeling so you hide it and pretend like everything is ok.  You refuse help; instead, you get angry; you isolate yourself and alienate everyone else.

Like I said, the road to recovery was filled with many bumps along the way.  I was broken and so was everything else around me.  My relationship with my husband - once filled with passion, romance and love - had turned into something I didn't recognize because for more than a year, we were just ghosts living amongst each other; taking care of Kayla and barely speaking unless it was about her or her well-being.  I am not kidding when I say that he became a stranger to me as I became to him.  After I started feeling better and the fog began to lift, I didn't know how to be around him; I didn't know how to be his wife, the woman he fell in love with or even his friend.  We assumed that things would return to normal but we'd been living separate lives for so long that we didn't know what to do.  In a lot of ways, we both learned to continue living the way we had been and convinced ourselves that it was normal.

It took us a long time to get back what we had.  2010 was great in terms of my healing process but it was not so great relationship-wise.  We fought a lot and I know that he resented the way things had become, as I did.  He was angry but although he never admitted it, I knew.  How could he not be angry?  the past two years had changed the both of us and changed our relationship.  We both knew it wasn't anybody's fault but we were both hurt, angry and confused as to why we couldn't figure out a way to fix it.  After several huge fights and a pretty close call to what I think was likely a separation, we finally spoke what was in our hearts.  That was a weird fight; it was almost as if we needed to hear it, feel it and go through it in order to get closure and move forward.  It was strange to talk about the possibly of separation in order to find happiness because I always imagined myself growing old with him nor could I imagine my life without him.  I hated seeing him so unhappy; wishing that things were different and seeing the desperation in his face.  Even though it would have killed me, I was willing to let him go so he could find the happiness that he deserves, even if that meant it was with someone else.

But thankfully, we made it and now we're closer than ever.  It's true what they say: what doesn't kill you makes you stronger and what doesn't pull you apart will bring you closer.  I am lucky to have a man who loves me and believes in me - in us - despite everything that I put him through; for that I am truly blessed.

Today, I sit here happy as a clam.  Although it still makes me cry whenever I think about the past and my depression, I have never been happier or healthier.  Work - as busy as it is - keeps me on my toes and while I may complain about the overload once in a while, I love it.  I love every moment with my little Kayla even though she's not so little anymore but a cheeky, adorable, hilarious toddler.  I cherish every second that I'm alive because this depression damn near took everything from me.  My family and friends come first and foremost and all I want to do is make memories, live, laugh and love because this life is too short.

Good-bye Zoloft

 

[source]

Today is a celebratory day for me - it was my last follow-up appointment with my psychiatrist.  I am finally off my anti-depressants and he wanted to assess me to make sure that everything was okay and guess what? everything is okay!  Dr. G said that my progress and recovery has been excellent and I look healthy, happy and most of all, calm.  My sleep has returned to normal (actually, it's better than pre-pregnancy) so I can't complain.

I have been medication-free for about a week now but the weaning process took several months.  We began reducing my dosage sometime in mid-late February 2010 and over the course of a few months, I went from 100mg of Zoloft to 25mg last month and then I slowly weaned from 25mg to 0.  Dr. G closely monitored my dosage during the weaning process, giving me clear and strict instructions on how to do it.  He told me that doing it too fast would cause a bunch of withdrawal symptoms which "are unpleasant to say the least" as he put it.  I remember how awful I felt when I first went on the meds and if that wasn't a picnic in the park, I certainly didn't want to experience what withdrawal would feel like.  Having said that, he said most times, people still feel slight withdrawal symptoms even if they've weaned themselves properly as the medication leaves the body.  The symptoms are very mild and don't last very long. 

The weaning process:  By the time I was taking 25mg for about 2-3 weeks, I refilled my prescription and that day,  I started reducing the amount of pills I took on a weekly basis.  I went from taking 1 pill per day to 1 pill every other day for about 3 weeks.  Then I took 1 pill every 2 days for another few weeks, then every 3 days and so on until when I nearly reached the end of the bottle, I was able to stop taking them.  My last pill was on Tuesday July 13 and I haven't taken anything since.  About 3 days later, I started feeling a little strange when I stood still; not really dizzy but kind of like I had a very mild case of vertigo.  It was really weird and it seemed to strike at odd times like if I was standing still or even sitting and at random times.  My eyes sometimes felt out of focus that I had to blink hard a few times.  These strange feelings were fleeting - they left as fast as they came - and then I was fine.  It would happen on and off during the day but for seconds at a time.  I also felt jittery at times; as if an electric current was going through my body and it only seemed to happen at night as I was trying to go to sleep. 

These symptoms went on for about 3-4 days; the vertigo/eye thing stopped a while ago with the jittery feeling the last to go.  Dr. G said that most patents feel the effects of the meds leaving the body almost immediately after a pill is missed, some patients who are sensitive to medication of any sort (me) tend to have latent withdrawal symptoms which is normal.  It will take my body time to adjust to regulating the chemicals in my body on my own, much like it took me time to adjust when I first went on the pills.  

I am happy to say that Dr. G has given me a clean bill of (mental) health and I honestly believe that I am back to my old self.  A lot of things have happened since I went off my meds; things that would have sent me over the edge if I were back where I was in 2009 but now I'm able to take things for what they are and roll with the punches. It took me 2 years to realize and accept that parenting isn't an exact science and things will be unpredictable at best regardless of how much you try and control the situation.  I'm much more relaxed, patient and calm but most of all, I'm truly enjoying being a parent.  I'm sad that it took me a long time to get here but I'm here at last.... and it feels fan-frigging-tastic!

Life after depression

 

It's been 9mos since I sought treatment for my depression.  In a previous post, I detailed my battle with postpartum depression and how far I've come.  It was tough for me in the beginng when I first was diagnosed but I stayed the course; determined to conquer the depression that was taking over my life.  I eagerly (and anxiously) went to every therapy session with my psychiatrist, focused on my mental health, stayed positive and took my medication diligently.  Over the course of 6mos, my therapy sessions went from weekly, to bi-weekly, to monthly and now, I no longer feel the need to go because I can honestly say with confidence: I'M BACK and it feels frigging great!  This picture you see here depicts how I feel most days:  on top of the world.  Of course, I have some bad days - I tend to get a tad moody before my period - but other than those little monthly blips, I feel pretty damn good. 

Yesterday I went to see my psychiatrist for a follow up because we're in the process of weaning me off the medication.  I am now taking 50mg of Zoloft and we've successfully decreased my dosage from 100mg to 75mg to where I am now.  I felt no difference moving from 100mg to 75mg and I'm pretty sure that I won't feel any different on 50mg either.  It's good to feel like my old self; to be honest, I didn't think that I would feel like this again.

These days, I spend my time with my family, friends, work and working on this website.  I've helped at least a dozen families so far and currently helping several families now.  Friends often ask if I've changed my business model and started incorporating pricing as part of my services to which I reply:  no.  I still can't get my head around charging people for advice and I'm completely satisfied giving back to the community which is payment enough for me.  My therapist said that part of my healing and why I've done so well, is because of my work with this site and the familes I help.  He said that what I do with these great families - passing and sharing information - is altruistic which in turn, is helping me in my path to recovery.  I never thought of it that way - that in helping others I am helping myself but I suppose he's right because whenever a family comes back and tells me how happy they are, how happy their children are, I feel so good.  

Depression was the worst thing and best thing that happened to me.  It was worst thing because I never thought my life could be so black; that I could feel such horrible, drowning, sinking dispair.  But it's also the best thing that's happened to me because I have a new perspective on life.  This depression really made me realize how short life is, that you must live your life to the fullest because you never know where life may take you.  I never thought that I would be battling depression and it nearly took everything I loved.  Nothing matters to me more than the health and well-being of my family and friends.  I used to stress over the littlest things; beating myself up for things that I coulda/woulda/shoulda done.  Worrying about finances.  Anxious over Kayla getting a cold or not sleeping well.  But, tomorrow is another day.  Things happen, I deal with them instead of worrying about it.  Kayla gets sick, I cuddle and hold her.  Kayla wakes up, I go to her and sit and cuddle with her until she's ready to go back to bed.  

These days, I laugh like no one is listening, I dance like nobody's watching and I live as if it's my last day.

The Seriousness of Postpartum Depression

 

 

There's a big stigma attached to mental health issues which is why you will rarely hear people openly talking about their depression or other mental health issue.  This is why people are reluctant to see a therapist or seek treatment; I can say first-hand that admitting you have a problem and need help from a mental health professional in some ways, makes you feel like a failure; less of a person because you can't control your very own thoughts, feelings or emotions.  But that is not true.  After almost a year of treatment - and still going - I have learned that mental illness has a lot to do with genetics, biological, sociological and psychological attributes that affect our every day lives.  Here is my story.

In 2008, my daughter was born.  It was an exciting time for my family as she was our first baby but soon after she was born, things changed for me.  I turned from a laid-back, easy-going person to a frightened, anxious, stress-filled, control freak who wouldn't let anyone touch Kayla because in my mind, I was the only one who could feed her right, sleep her right or raise her right.  I even had a hard time letting my husband take care of her and because of this, I rarely went out and for all of 2009, no one really saw me.  Kayla was a catnapper and it drove me crazy.  I thought that there was something I could do to fix that and I became obsessed with finding The Answer that I somehow wasn't seeing that would make her sleep better and therefore solve my problem.  I bought book after book and scoured the internet searching for any site that would give me The Answer but I couldn't find it.  I often found myself visiting the same sites or reading the same books over and over again, thinking that I must be missing something. What am I not seeing?  

Over time, it wasn't just her sleeping that kept me up at night; it was her eating too.  She ate a lot but also had trouble with textured foods so she was on pureed foods way beyond one year old and she often threw up because if she burped wrong or coughed, everything came up.  I constantly took her to the doctor asking for test after test because surely this wasn't normal but he assured me that nothing was wrong and that once she got the hang of eating table food, the vomiting would stop.  

Needless to say, the anxiety and stress robbed me of sleep and destroyed my appetite.  I didn't say anything to anyone because I wasn't sure if something was wrong and everyone kept on telling me that "the first year is really hard" and that "I would eventually adjust" so I kept on going.  Because other, more seasoned mothers, constantly told me that "it's normal", "it's just the baby blues and it'll go away" and they "felt the same way for about 6mos to 1yr but things eventually returned to normal", I figured that if I waited long enough, I would return to normal too and I would start enjoying my time as a mother.

Well, 13mos rolled by and it just got worse.  Still, I waited for that One Day when I would just snap out of it but that day never came.  The bad days far out-weighed the good days and after a series of near mental breakdowns and a stint in the hospital (which the doctors couldn't find what was causing my severe abdominal pains), I had hit rock bottom and knew that what I was going through wasn't just your normal baby blues or your normal case of Postpartum Depression.  

In August 2009 - 14mos after Kayla was born - I sought help from my doctor who immediately referred me to a psychiatrist.  I was extremely skeptical to see a psychiatrist because I didn't understand how someone I didn't even know could help me.  He knew nothing about my past, about my life, about what I was going through so if my friends or family couldn't help me, how could he?  I went anyway; deciding that I would give it a fair shot - 2 sessions at the most - and if I thought it was a waste of time (which I was convinced it would be), then I would stop.  Obviously I was wrong.  

The first session was intense.  I was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder with OCD traits and high anxiety disorder.  That was a lot to take, that first session.  I cried and couldn't stop crying, even after I got home.  I don't know why either; maybe it was because I felt so defeated as a mother and person.  Maybe it was because I felt like a failure when I excelled in all other aspects of my life.  Whatever the reason, a huge part of the tears came from relief - relief from finally being able to see some light at the end of my dark, dreary tunnel.  Relief that maybe things can change but mostly I felt hope - for the first time in 14mos, I felt hope that one day, I will be a good mother, wife, daughter, sister and friend again.  

My psychiatrist was surprised that I waited so long to seek treatment but he was also not surprised as he mentioned that many mothers suffer in silence because they think that postpartum depression/baby blues are "normal" which is not really the case.  Yes, it is normal to feel a little down after having a baby since your hormones are unstable for a while but it shouldn't last very long or become as severe as mine did.  I am so thankful that I sought help when I did because I seriously do not know where I would be right now had I not called his office that Sunday in August 2009.  

My message is this:  if you are feeling out of sorts and feel you can't cope or that you are spinning out of control, I encourage you to talk to someone.  That sinking and drowning feeling can turn into something more and it's best to seek treatment - regardless of how mild the symptoms are - as soon as you can because if left too long, if you ignore it too long as I did, it could turn into clinical depression.  Postpartum depression is a serious thing and although all mothers go through some form of it after birth - even up to a year after birth - not all cases are the same so take your case individually and take care of yourself.  Even if that means talking to your family doctor or someone who has experienced PPD, it is a step in the right direction towards getting better.  It is ok if you have depression.  It is ok if you have feelings of regret, resentment, of thinking that maybe you weren't cut out to be a parent, if maybe you made a mistake.  I had the same thoughts and I felt horrible.  I had awful guilt for thinking and feeling these things because Kayla is such a blessing and to have a child is an incredible thing.  But if I knew this, how could I feel this way?  Thoughts like that would keep me up at night.  The anxiety destroyed my appetite and I dropped from a healthy 125lbs to about 108lbs.  Nothing I did or nothing I ate made me gain weight.  I hardly slept.  I was utterly exhausted and it wasn't because Kayla wasn't sleeping - she was - I just wasn't able to cope with the small things that often happen with young infants.  When you are at this point in your life, in your mind, it's time to seek treatment.  I should have done that long before I got to this point however, I was stubborn and thought I could handle it.  I was wrong - I see that now.

I am taking anti-depressants but because of the incredible progress I've made, my psychiatrist is weaning me off.  I was extremely weary of going on medication but it literally saved me.  3mos after I started treatment, I felt so much better.  Going to therapy has been extremely cathartic to say the least and I looked forward to our weekly sessions.  After about 6mos of treatment, I cut back to bi-weekly sessions because I had better handle on things and since January of this year, I've only seen my doctor once because things are so great.  I feel like my normal self again and I LOVE being a mother.  I am able to cope and handle things as they come.  I am able to take thing in stride even if that throws off our entire schedule or routine.  I am finally able to see that raising children has its ups and downs and that it's just a part of child-rearing.  This is now my life and instead of resenting it like I used to, I embrace it.  I love it.  I couldn't be happier.  It took me a while to get here but I'm here and I finally feel normal.  I finally feel like my old self.  I am finally enjoying motherhood and I have my family, friends and my doctor to thank.

If you have any questions about depression or would like some support if you are having similar feelings, please please do not hesitate to email me.  Your email will be kept in confidence and will not be published on this site.