Miss Movin' On
Hello!
It has been a very long time, hasn't it? Well, I have had lots of time to think, lots of time to learn and to mature in my life.
The last entry that I wrote, I was still coming off of the high, manic state that I was in. I had been put on an anti psychotic medication and about a month later, the high wore off and the depression settled back in.
It began with thoughts like, "I don't feel at home here." We had lived in our new house for about a month. I had not mentally prepared for this move since the decision had been made while I was in the mental hospital. Roberto felt very strongly that moving was the best thing for us at the time and so, we did.
Several people had mentioned to Roberto that getting a job might benefit me. Since we have been married and had Samuel, I dedicated my time at home with him. I had no plans of working outside of the home after having Abram. So when he approached me about getting a job, I became anxious and even though I "looked" for one, I never buckled down to do it.
It was summer, it was hot, and my boys wanted to just play and go to the pool. All I wanted to do was lay on the couch. In a matter of a few weeks, it came to the point that I could not even get myself to get out of bed for church on Sunday. My dear husband tried his best to deal with my behavior but it became overwhelming. My parents came that morning to pick me up and take me and the boys to their home.
I reached out to my psychiatrist at this time and well, he prescribed me an antidepressant, (Effexor). He also decided to take me off of the anti-psychotic medication (Saphris and Rexulti), saying that he doubted I would ever go manic again. I continued to take the antidepressant for about another month but quickly let my doctor know that there was not any improvement and I was put on yet another kind of antidepressant (Wellbutrin). I stayed with my parents for about a month before I returned home.
I had moments where I felt somewhat capable of getting through the day. Even so, the trauma of my past kept pulling me away from the present moment. I decided to take a break from the antidepressant. I would spent so much time googling ways of how to end my life. I reached out for help and was sent to LDS family services, to talk to a professional.
The woman I saw was much older than me. I told her my story and she recommended that I get back in touch with my psychiatrist, so that I could get on the "right" medication and get better. They also recommended therapy. I started going to Amber Creek Counseling Center in Sandy. I talked with Nikki Harmon and got along with her really well. I also got put on Trintellix, another antidepressant, by my psychiatrist.
The frustrating part was that we didn't even really understand what was the underlying cause of my psychotic break. All the psychiatrist could come up with, was that it was medically related and not clinical bipolarism.
This was the thing that bothered me the most. I felt so guilty about the whole thing. I was the one who had wanted another child so desperately. I was the one who felt so strongly about trying every intervention we could, so that I could feel like I had done everything in my power to help our situation. Why had I struggled so much afterward? If this was to have been a good choice for me and for my family, then why would I have to endure so much suffering after what was supposed to have been such a beautiful time in my life?
I was going to see Nikki about once a week and had been on Trintellix for about the same amount of time. It was then that she took maternity leave and I had to switch therapists. I started to see Porter Macy. While he was very empathetic, I felt like my conversations with him got me nowhere, just even more depressed about my circumstance. Once again, the suicidal thoughts starting creeping in and I just felt even more hopeless. I finally decided that antidepressants were not helping me at all and I stopped taking Trintellix in April 2018.
It was summer once again and I was still in the pit of loneliness and despair. Roberto had reached the end of his rope. We had both wanted the same thing, for me to get better, the thing was that we didn't know when that would be and that was very unsettling for Roberto. He had received a strong impression that we needed time apart in order to heal. I would go to Ecuador with my mother in law and my youngest son, Abram.
I felt like a child being sent away to finishing school; lost, confused, unsure of who I was and what I wanted. I had no desire to go to Ecuador but I felt like I had nothing to lose by going, so I did. We arrived at Montecristi, a small town where Raquel's (my mother in law) aunt and uncle lived. I was absolutely miserable. I thought that taking away my comforts from home wouldn't change anything about my depression but boy was I wrong.
About two weeks had passed and I decided to reach out to my Uncle Jorge, who was living in Guayaquil. He looks after my maternal grandmother and it had been years since I had spent time with either of them. I spent about a week with them and it felt good. I noticed my suicidal thoughts melt away and I finally started thinking about my life, the life I could have if I decided to finally move on from my past.
I returned home in October, just in time for General Conference 2018. I was finally out of the "I just wanna die" thought loop and I was determined to make a change for the better. I knew what I wanted. I wanted to FEEL again. I wanted to feel connection with myself, my husband, my children and the people closest to me. I wanted to know what I wanted and that I knew that I could obtain those things, if I only believed enough and did the work to get there.
It has been almost one year since I came home last year and I can honestly say that I have finally achieved stability. My mind is clear and my heart feels warm and fuzzy like it once did. It was a long, draining, exhausting road but we made it through and our family is still intact. To say that I am grateful is a huge understatement.
It has been a very long time, hasn't it? Well, I have had lots of time to think, lots of time to learn and to mature in my life.
The last entry that I wrote, I was still coming off of the high, manic state that I was in. I had been put on an anti psychotic medication and about a month later, the high wore off and the depression settled back in.
It began with thoughts like, "I don't feel at home here." We had lived in our new house for about a month. I had not mentally prepared for this move since the decision had been made while I was in the mental hospital. Roberto felt very strongly that moving was the best thing for us at the time and so, we did.
Several people had mentioned to Roberto that getting a job might benefit me. Since we have been married and had Samuel, I dedicated my time at home with him. I had no plans of working outside of the home after having Abram. So when he approached me about getting a job, I became anxious and even though I "looked" for one, I never buckled down to do it.
It was summer, it was hot, and my boys wanted to just play and go to the pool. All I wanted to do was lay on the couch. In a matter of a few weeks, it came to the point that I could not even get myself to get out of bed for church on Sunday. My dear husband tried his best to deal with my behavior but it became overwhelming. My parents came that morning to pick me up and take me and the boys to their home.
I reached out to my psychiatrist at this time and well, he prescribed me an antidepressant, (Effexor). He also decided to take me off of the anti-psychotic medication (Saphris and Rexulti), saying that he doubted I would ever go manic again. I continued to take the antidepressant for about another month but quickly let my doctor know that there was not any improvement and I was put on yet another kind of antidepressant (Wellbutrin). I stayed with my parents for about a month before I returned home.
I had moments where I felt somewhat capable of getting through the day. Even so, the trauma of my past kept pulling me away from the present moment. I decided to take a break from the antidepressant. I would spent so much time googling ways of how to end my life. I reached out for help and was sent to LDS family services, to talk to a professional.
The woman I saw was much older than me. I told her my story and she recommended that I get back in touch with my psychiatrist, so that I could get on the "right" medication and get better. They also recommended therapy. I started going to Amber Creek Counseling Center in Sandy. I talked with Nikki Harmon and got along with her really well. I also got put on Trintellix, another antidepressant, by my psychiatrist.
The frustrating part was that we didn't even really understand what was the underlying cause of my psychotic break. All the psychiatrist could come up with, was that it was medically related and not clinical bipolarism.
This was the thing that bothered me the most. I felt so guilty about the whole thing. I was the one who had wanted another child so desperately. I was the one who felt so strongly about trying every intervention we could, so that I could feel like I had done everything in my power to help our situation. Why had I struggled so much afterward? If this was to have been a good choice for me and for my family, then why would I have to endure so much suffering after what was supposed to have been such a beautiful time in my life?
I was going to see Nikki about once a week and had been on Trintellix for about the same amount of time. It was then that she took maternity leave and I had to switch therapists. I started to see Porter Macy. While he was very empathetic, I felt like my conversations with him got me nowhere, just even more depressed about my circumstance. Once again, the suicidal thoughts starting creeping in and I just felt even more hopeless. I finally decided that antidepressants were not helping me at all and I stopped taking Trintellix in April 2018.
It was summer once again and I was still in the pit of loneliness and despair. Roberto had reached the end of his rope. We had both wanted the same thing, for me to get better, the thing was that we didn't know when that would be and that was very unsettling for Roberto. He had received a strong impression that we needed time apart in order to heal. I would go to Ecuador with my mother in law and my youngest son, Abram.
I felt like a child being sent away to finishing school; lost, confused, unsure of who I was and what I wanted. I had no desire to go to Ecuador but I felt like I had nothing to lose by going, so I did. We arrived at Montecristi, a small town where Raquel's (my mother in law) aunt and uncle lived. I was absolutely miserable. I thought that taking away my comforts from home wouldn't change anything about my depression but boy was I wrong.
About two weeks had passed and I decided to reach out to my Uncle Jorge, who was living in Guayaquil. He looks after my maternal grandmother and it had been years since I had spent time with either of them. I spent about a week with them and it felt good. I noticed my suicidal thoughts melt away and I finally started thinking about my life, the life I could have if I decided to finally move on from my past.
I returned home in October, just in time for General Conference 2018. I was finally out of the "I just wanna die" thought loop and I was determined to make a change for the better. I knew what I wanted. I wanted to FEEL again. I wanted to feel connection with myself, my husband, my children and the people closest to me. I wanted to know what I wanted and that I knew that I could obtain those things, if I only believed enough and did the work to get there.
It has been almost one year since I came home last year and I can honestly say that I have finally achieved stability. My mind is clear and my heart feels warm and fuzzy like it once did. It was a long, draining, exhausting road but we made it through and our family is still intact. To say that I am grateful is a huge understatement.
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