All the Horrible Girliness

It finally came to my attention this morning that something was very wrong with me and I needed help. I have no appetite, I can't sleep, and when I do somehow fall asleep, I have horrible nightmares. I've been obsessing about death. I am fearful all day. I cry every minute someone isn't watching.

So, I called the doctor. He was on vacation, so another doctor recommended Zoloft, but only after I went through the humiliating process of explaining my symptoms to the nurse. When I told her about the nightmares, she had to ask what they were about, and I tried to get out of telling her. When I did tell, I cried all over the place. After that, she treated me very gently, as if I might jump out the window at any time.

Screw Tom Cruise, I figured. I'm going on Zoloft. Anything to get out of the crazy cycle I am in. I'm usually dead-set against these drugs but I go through times when I am completely unable to function.

***

In the car on the way to pick up my Zoloft, I thought of Anne Lamott. She raised her boy pretty much on her own, with help only from her great group of friends and a few relatives, with very little money. I have read her book, "Operating Instructions, A Journal of my Son's First Year," three times. She's funny. Part of the reason I am able to be honest in my writing is Anne Lamott being able to write in that book that, during her son's bad colic, she sometimes wanted to slam him against the wall, the way they cure an octopus on the dock. She brings out this beautiful humanity and dares you to challenge its truth.

So. She has a box she calls "God's In-Box" and when things get too out of control, she writes down her problem on a piece of paper and slips it into the box. Then she lets it go, more or less.

In the car, I told God I was putting this shit into his in-box. I asked for help.

Whether you believe in God or not, it makes sense to let go of your control issues when they get out of whack, like mine have. Especially when you're obsessing about death, something you can never control. You can drive yourself batty worrying about death. It's like a drug.

When I got to the drug store, I got a call from the pediatrician's nurse. She said it was okay to take the Zoloft, that I in fact should take the Zoloft, but I couldn't breastfeed.

If I hadn't had that small talk with God in the car, I would have put the kid on formula and taken my Zoloft. Instead, I told the nurse that I would tough out the depression, that I would try very hard to make it without the drugs, because breast milk is the best thing for my son.

I may take the Zoloft tomorrow. But for today, I will just leave it in the in-box and see what other options come up.

posted by Samus @ 9:33 PM