So I've managed to stay pretty busy for the past few months. I don't get any time to myself, unless it's sleeping. And even then, I don't usually get much of that to myself. For the most part, I don't mind staying busy. Keeps me from thinking.
But last night, I had a 25 minute drive to and from Mimi's house, all by myself. I took a CD with me of a song that I want to sing soon, and practiced it on the way over to Meem's. On the way home, it was dark. I decided to take the scenic route home, meaning no highway. Meaning more time for thinking.
I realized something, as I was taking a curve and wondering what would happen if I accelerated instead of braking. I realized that I am more depressed than I thought. Seriously.
I knew post partum was taking its toll on me. I knew that I was exhausted. I knew that I didn't like how my body looks. I knew that taking my zoloft regularly was important--- I'd even get up out of bed at midnight if I woke up and realized I hadn't taken it before I went to sleep. But I didn't realize how profoundly depressed I was until last night, when thoughts of death and escaping from my life were swirling around in my head.
I drove on, thinking, "Do I call Jenni? Mindy? Melissa? Heidi? No. I deal with this. There is no reason for me to feel this way. So I'm not going to feel this way. End of story. Not going to be thinking of the peace that death could bring. Instead, I will think of all of my blessings. I will think of the truth. My death would devastate my family. It is selfish. It sure would take away my depression--- but it would also take away my life."
That's the good thing. Because before, in a severe bout of depression, I couldn't think about the truth of things. All I could see was that death was a release from heart break and pain.
I'm not sure where I'm going to go from here, what with recognizing how depressed I am. I'm reluctant to go back into counseling. I feel like it's hopeless, but I also know that's not the truth. It's a matter of pride, I think. Admitting that I need more help. Hard to do, ya know? I do know that I'll keep taking my antidepressants. I'll probably put my counselor's number on the fridge, so that I can dial the phone quickly one day, before I change my mind and chicken out of calling her. I'll keep breathing.