Open Book

Anyone who knows me knows I am an open book. I don't hide or censor my feelings or thoughts (even though there are times I should) and I pretty much lay it all out there about whats going on with me.

I saw a Psychiatric Nurse Practioner about 2 1/2 weeks ago and when I say my life has done an 180 - I really mean it. There are many reasons for why I went, many reasons for why I waited so long to go.

Growing up, I never struggled with depression. Never really struggled with anxiety - yeah, I would get nervous when I had a test in school but nothing life debilatating. I had both girls and never experienced post partum depression. Anxiety kicked up a notch after being a mom but that was to be expected, especially with my type A personality.

During my pregnancy with Ava I had severe back pain. After I delivered her it only got worse. I spent a good year working with Dr's trying anything and everything - trigger point pain injections, steriod epidurals, accupunture, pain patches, pain meds, exercise, traction, tens unit - the list goes on and on. During this time my pain management doctor told me I had "Little Miss Perfect Syndrome" and I should possibly consider going on some medicine to help me cope. It took me about 6 months before I was willing to give it a try.

I was depressed dealing with the back issues for over 3 years but I wasn't really what I considered depressed - I was more "frustrated". My anxiety level dealing with 2 small kids 24/7 thrown on top of my Little Miss Perfect Syndrome sent my anxiety into a tailspin.

Moved to Indianapolis and Dr's still kept treating my symptoms as me being depressed. Now, I was getting depressed after hearing them tell me I was depressed. I would see the drug commercials with the check off boxes to see if you were depressed and I would only answer yes to about a 1/10th of them. But - hey, they are the Dr's - they say I'm depressed - I must be depressed. No one was addressing my anxiety.

A few months ago - in an Oprah kinda light bulb moment - I realized I wasn't really living. I was barely surviving. I was getting up each morning doing just what I had to do to "survive". I actually dreaded going to bed at night because I knew I had to wake up the next morning and do it all over again. I found no joy in anything I did and I was overwhelmed so easily. I felt so sorry for Steve and my girls that they had to live with someone like this. I know I couldn't have been a fun person. I remember driving home from the library one night and told Steve I think I should go and see a Psychiatrist because I was getting tired of our family Dr. just throwing new meds that some rep was probably giving him a trip to win if he prescribed x amount of prescriptions. I had a med for depression, a med for anxiety, a med to help me sleep - the list could go on and on - and guess what - my life still sucked!

I have shed many tears with dear girlfriends discussing my struggle. I have the absolute perfect life. I have a faithful, loyal husband. I have 2 beautiful, smart, funny healthy girls. I live in a gorgeous house, I drive a great car, I am able to be a stay at home mom - forever. Heck, I don't even have to cook most nights. But - I still hated my life. I knew I needed help.

So, I humbled myself and called a "stress center" and made an appointment with a Licensed Psychiatric Nurse Practioner with lots of initials behind her name. lol She spent 2 1/2 hours discussing different scenarios with me and seeing how I responded, she asked me countless questions and she LISTENED. She was so frustrated with my family Dr. for not picking up on my signs and following what she felt was the typical "oh she's a young mom and is depressed" scenario. After talking with her she told me that my problem was my anxiety and it was ruling and controlling my life. I was controlling and handling it with excessive - obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD). Plus, the anxiety was so overwhelming to me I was almost paralyzed. I couldn't do hardly anything around the house without it totally stressing me out. Now, no one really enjoys cleaning toilets and dusting - but the thought that I needed and had to do it, again, sent my mind into overdrive and would keep me up for hours upon hours.

11 years ago I was brutally attacked outside my apartment complex in Raleigh. After 2 1/2 hours with this new NP she made it clear this is where it all started. It all made sense - even Steve couldn't believe we missed it. Since the attack happened I have a horrible time in crowds. I break out in cold sweats, get head aches, get dizzy - and quite frankly even a little bitchy. Any plans during the week or anything that throws a kink into my schedule of "no schedule" gets me worked up for days. She switched a lot of the meds I was taking (had me to discontinue them) - and prescribed a new med specifically for anxiety. The last 7 days - once the meds have had time to really start working - I feel like a completely different person. Steve notices it and probably appreciates it the most. Poor guy - what he had to suffer through. As he was walking out the door to the gym tonight I told him - for the first time in a long time I could actually say I felt happy.

So, bottom line in my open book post - if you are struggling - humble yourself to find the right medical professional that will listen to you and address what you are going through.