Hello readers, I’m writing this to let you know that the wine reviews are on pause at the moment. I have started a new medication and alcohol is contraindicated. I will however attempt to continue to blog about the things that make me want alcohol.
Mental illness is a strange thing. It’s not something any of us can help, it’s always there, and no matter what we tell ourselves the stigma is there. I considered not posting this because of the stigma but then I remembered my mental illness warrior icons like Jennifer Lawson and Carrie Fisher. They wouldn’t avoid telling the world what was going on with them and neither will I.
I went through a traumatic experience bringing my son in to the world. It was an emergency C-section with a placental abruption. Someday I will get into all of the horrible details of exactly what I went through that night. I didn’t get to touch my son for 4 days and I was kept in the maternity ward of another hospital so I spent 4 days listening to the damn alarm going off every time someone had a baby and hearing other babies cry. When I was finally released it wasn’t because I was well, it was because the doctor knew I wasn’t going to improve until I got to see my son. My blood pressure was still crazy high and I was on 6 medications when I was released. My son spent 15 days in the NICU and ended up having SVT. After getting him home I went right into being a full time mother.
Over the past almost 16 months I’ve never really been able to process or work through everything that I went through. I can still remember that night like it was yesterday and as any NICU mother knows; I’ll always carry the NICU with me. Unfortunately this brought up every issue with depression and anxiety I’ve ever had and unlike other times in my life, I wasn’t able to give myself the down time I need to recharge, take care of myself, and heal. Instead I found myself tightly wound and lashing out at everyone. The anger would come out of me suddenly and intensely without any warning. Then the guilt would follow and then frustration and sadness. I lost myself, I stopped feeling like a person and instead was an empty shell looking forward to closing my eyes for a few hours every night to escape what I had become. Of course with an infant those few hours of escape every night weren’t guaranteed which led to me getting worse. I tried eating better, trying positive thinking, and working out. I tried to just push through it, convincing myself that every mom goes through this and that I was being a wuss. That eventually it would get easier and I’d be myself again. I’ve had experience with my mental illness before, I knew I had a history and I was on medication in the past. Still I wouldn’t just say, “hey this is probably a good time to get back on medication”. Instead I had well-meaning people in my life that I love dearly telling me I needed to get rid of the Mirena because that was causing it, that I needed to get over what had happened to me, that I needed to stop being so angry. Finally I reached the point where I decided I’m done with all of this crap. I’m so done not being myself. I’m so done trying to push through it. I’m so done with all of this malarkey.
I’ve been on the medication since Monday and it’s already making a world of difference. Although my body kind of feels like I’m filled with busy little worker bees buzzing around. Not angry stinging bees, just busy bees. Until the bees go away I don’t feel like it’s a good idea to risk a glass of wine at home. I hope you all understand and I promise my next post will be more humor filled but as my readers I felt you deserved an explanation.