A Long Time Coming...

Well... it's been a while since my last post. Nearly a month. A lot can change in a month...

For some reason I feel compelled to fill you in about one of the biggest changes... how I'm feeling. Some of you know, others may not... I've had a pretty tough time dealing with my father's death. It was the last straw in what has probably been the hardest year and a half of my life.

Here's a brief recap: Quit a job I enjoyed due to my toxic, nightmare of a boss. Learned of my Mom's cancer, her major surgery & recovery, chemotherapy and more recovery. Cared for both parents in FL and spending as much time with my dad as I can in between caring for my mom. Sold a house, rented a house and bought a house all in four months. The back & forth between FL & Denver. Not to mention the financial stress put on my hubby while I was out of work. Finally, my Father's death. I can handle a lot and stress is normally something I can manage pretty well... but dammit! That's a lot!

So... in the process, I gained some weight, cried a lot, stuffed my emotions down and ultimately found myself depressed and caring about hardly anything. Nothing felt important enough to warrant my attention. Some days, it was all I could do to get out of bed and go through the motions. Every time I turned around, something would set me off and the tears would start flowing uncontrollably. I'm an emotional person by nature (I get that from my mom) but the person I had turned into couldn't be further from who I really am.

So, with the encouragement of a good friend, I went to see my doctor. She did some blood work, talked with me about how I was feeling, and suggested I temporarily try an anti-anxiety/anti-depression medication. Sceptically, reluctantly, and judgmentally, I said OK. I say it that way because I kept "should-ing" on myself. I should be able to bring myself out of this low on my own. I should be able to snap out of this funk I'm in. If I exercise more or eat differently, then I should feel better. If I can get to the grief counselor and talk it out, then I should eventually run out of tears, right?! (By the way, I made three appointments with a grief counselor and canceled them all.) I think there's stigma attached to admitting I need help and further, realizing that the help I need comes in the form of a depression/anxiety medication. Well, the cat's out of the bag. Today, I think it takes courage to admit all that.

I've been on the meds for almost four weeks now... and WOW! What a difference! I'm starting to feel like myself again. Positive. Energetic. Optimistic. Excited. I'm still sad about my Father's passing and I miss him very much and yes... I still cry sometimes. The difference is that now, I don't burst into uncontrolled sobbing every time I think of him. I'm more excited to get out of bed and participate in life. I care about things again. I find myself laughing again and feeling happy. I feel somewhat liberated from my sadness. I can smile now when I think of my Dad and remember all the life lessons he taught me, as well as the many funny life stories he lived. I still plan to meet with the grief counselor and this time I'll actually go and be able to hear the knowledge and advice expressed by the therapist. Things are looking up!

Like I said... a lot has changed this past month. All of it good! I'm feeling much better. Eric got a great new job. I've lost a few pounds and I even landed a new job. (More on that next post.) Right now... I'm off to get a full body massage! Oh yeah baby!

That's the latest on this end. Until next post...