August 14, 2014

Weaning off

A month-long silence, what can I say? Life has been busy. Our vacation to New Orleans and Panama City Beach was amazing and very fun. We had a blast together. We spent most nights sitting on the beach, drinking a beer, and staring up at countless stars. Neither of us wanted to leave and we already want to go back. The day we left, one of my BFFs texted with the news that her Dad was in his final stages of his cancer. We rushed back and pretty much went straight to the hospital. I left town, briefly, to attend a wedding and he passed while I was there. We immediately returned after the wedding and I spent the week with her. It was very hard, and still is very hard, to watch her go through what I went through. I've known D since we were twelve and thirteen, we are so much alike it's weird and our dads were very similar in personality too. It's just heartbreaking to be unable to stop her pain. But, I must say, her strength and grace is beautiful. She's a tough lady.

I'm also in the process of a major step in the weaning off of my anti-depressants and it's not very pretty. My moods are all over the place and it's annoying. I'm so cranky because I'm not sleeping well and my anxiety attacks have returned. But, I'm still determined to get off them, so I'm just trying to cope and adjust. Poor M is being such a trooper, especially since my bad moods are fun to witness. He takes it in stride though and doesn't hesitate to gently tell me I'm being a beast when it's really bad.

I've been on them for three years and when I think about just how bad my depression was before the anti-depressants, I panic a little about going off them. But I really think it's for the best. I'm in a much better place now and coping with everything well. I can't explain why I'm so adamant about this, something inside is just telling me it's time. When I made the decision to stop them, I had a long talk with M about it. I told him what I was like before them and how my depression affected me. I've told him what to watch for and he asks nightly about how I'm doing. The first sign I'm getting depressed or suicidal, I'm getting back on them. But, so far, I'm ok. No dark thoughts. It's a relief!

My Dad would have turned 57 this weekend. I miss him so very much. Cancer is a bitch.

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