I'm more patient.
I'm not an anxious.
I'm laughing and smiling a lot more.
I'm not as angry.
I'm not sad.
I'm not overwhelmed.
I'm enjoying my life and my twins and my partner.
I'm seeing a therapist and a shrink and my new best friend--Zoloft.
You were right. I fought it and denied it and railed against it. But yes, I am the face of PPD.
I hit a wall on Jan. 21, 2010. The twins one year birthday. I cried in the shower. I drank wine for lunch. I don't do these things--EVER.
There was a bottle of Zoloft with my name on it that I'd had since 2003 and never taken. I know, who keeps things like that? Me, apparently. I called the shrink and made an appointment, but in the meantime started self-medicating with who-knows-if-it's-even-effective Z.
I'm pretty sure it was still good because by the time I told her about it the next week (her: "Oh, that's nothing, most people self-medicate with drugs or alcohol"), I was already feeling better. We upped the dose a bit and life changed.
A few weeks ago Chicken said, "Don't take this the wrong way but...you are so much better now." And I am.
That's why I couldn't fathom the idea of going to Miami, but welcomed the challenge of going to SF. That's why I've cut the nanny's hours.
That's why I've been getting up every morning and getting the boys out the door and getting things DONE.
And loving it.
And feeling so empowered and proud of myself.
And enjoying these amazing boys so much more.
That's why I never saw myself in so many of your blogs--both twin and singleton. I was not myself. I was small and sad and angry and most of all, tired and overwhelmed.
Life is good and I know it's just going to keep getting better.