"Since I woke up from a long, restless sleep" I believe, truly I do for the very first time in many, many years I believe! And it feels so incredibly amazing! When I say I finally woke up it's because for years I was in denial of how depressed and anxiety filled my heart, mind and soul were. I was always telling my Tia in a gentle way that it wasn't her fault that she needed medication, but she needed it to function not only because of the brain damage she suffered at birth, but to deal with the pain and crulity of the world and because of her many illness's and her huge heart and sensitivity that she would not be able to cope and make it without help. I was always consumed with getting her better and feeling her pain that in the process I forgot about me, but the beauty that came from it all was in her own way weather it was verbally painful to hear for me she was thinking about my pain while I felt hers. Then came the day that while I was trying to tell her in a heated argument that she had to take her medication after finding out that she wasn't in anger she screamed at me that I needed medication too. I was upset at the moment and again denied that I needed help, that I was in pain myself from the years of abuse inflicted on me not only physically, but emotionally, verbally and spiritually as well. Until the day my baby left this cold house and I was alone with my pain in her old room sleeping in her bed, every night crying myself to sleep wondering if she would make it out there in this world with a father who had not seen, loved or cared for her in 16 years, without me holding her hand all through her life and trying to make up for the pain she has suffered. Living and breathing my children and small family always and never thinking about myself. After 7 times in the Emergency room thinking I was having a heart attack and being to afraid to reach out to anyone, driving myself there and hoping that I didn't die in the process because I had two beautiful children to live for and a mother who would die with me and true friends that cared and loved me, being hooked up several times to EKG's to find out that I was having panic attacks that were so bad that they literally enlarged my heart and lungs, but were not life threatening. To turn away from my Primary Doctor in embarrassment to go to another because I couldn't think, my brain was in a blackout, I couldn't carry on an intelligent conversation if I tried really hard, or answer my children when they asked about when they were younger; so bad that I would have to say "I'll be right back and either call my mother and ask her if she remembered or look the answer up in one of my many journals" It was that bad and more. I choose a Doctor who didn't know me and as soon as I got in his office and when he sat down and asked me about myself I told him "I need a CT scan, there is something really wrong with my brain; I can't think and I don't remember anything not even what I had for dinner the previous night" he looked at me and smiled, he was a joker and I remember that day like it was yesterday he said "How did you get that tiny scar on your face, the one where I would imagine you can only see when you cry or laugh?" I couldn't believe it, I finally was admitted to myself and another human being that there was something wrong and he wanted to know where I got my scar. And being me I answered him. Saying "I was in kindergarten and my best friend Lynn had this dog and she wanted me to pick him up, and kept saying he won't bite I promise!"; in between sobs I was telling him the whole story forgetting all the while why I was there, in my mind I was there so he could fix my scar that's how sick I was. So I continued and told him that I picked the dog up and the next thing I know the dog bite my face and I let go and he hung there nawing at my face, shaking his head around like he wanted to rip it off. I was crying and wet my skirt (Catholic school) and tights. While waiting for the ambulance I was saying that I was scared not because my face was destroyed and there was blood all over me, but because I was not supposed to be at Lynn's house; something we did a lot. She promised me one of her skirts and I was taken away to the hospital. The Doctor then said "I will be right back" and I was like what? Thinking all the while that I was going off the deep end. He came back with this stuffed bulldog, with his hands wrapped around it's neck and said "I got the bastard, is this him?" Then I thought okay I am not losing it, he is! To sick to realize at the time that he was trying to make me feel better, that he saw my pain and only wanted me to smile; knowing that I was not dying, but depressed. He came right out and said it "your depressed and filled with anxiety, your hands are shaking, your in a bad relationship etc etc he read me like a book and it freaked me out, to the point where my first reaction was to get and leave and tell him that he needed some help, not me. But Tia's words came flooding back to me and I owed this to her to listen to this man, this doctor no matter how freaked out I was and uncomfortable with the whole stuffed dog gig. So he started to write me a script for Zoloft (anti-depressant) and that's when I spoke I said listen Doc I don't want Zoloft, if you are going to give me something then please give me Paxil, my mother is on it and it works for her and believe me her life is better now because she has a man who not only loves her deeply, but knows her past history of abuse, pain and suffering and remains by her said. I don't have what she has, but we are biological and I feel in my heart that if you what you say is true than I can only hope that I will have the same affect and someday when I am well have a man to love me for who I am and hold my hand through the good times and the bad! He tore up the Zoloft script and gave me Paxil. It has been 4 months now and I am back, I am awake, I have a voice and a memory; I remember too much and that's why when my best friend Maddie told me about blogging I jumped on it and I may talk way too much, but please understand that I was asleep for many, many, many years and have so very much to say and rarely have anyone to say these things too. I have my Paxil and my free therapist, my Diary. Thank you Tia, my sweetheart for making mommy see again, for giving me my life back; you are so precious and have given me something no one else has, my very soul, mind and heart back in the right places and a voice that will be heard and a chance at love. I will always be grateful to you and for having you. I love you around the world and back again! Mommy |