My Long Summer

It was a LONG fucking summer.

When last we met, our heroine (me), was embarking on a journey of happiness and wellness. I was ready to kick my bad habits, with the help of anti-depressant medication.

Here’s how it went down.

First of all, I never got on Wellbutrin. I called my doctor’s office for TWO FUCKING WEEKS to get the prescription. No one EVER called me back. I finally got mad enough to say “Fuck you, Asshole. I’m doing this myself if it fucking kills me.” The psychologist dude had said I didn’t really need medication, but it would certainly help me get my head right while I was sorting this shit out. I read somewhere recently that America consumes something like 2/3 of the world’s supply of anti-depressants. We are a medicated society, sucking down the happy pills so we’ll have enough energy to keep working the machines. Well, fuck that. I’m taking my ball and going home.

So I set about doing all the things I said I would do. It was just harder than I expected because I had to do them regardless of how I felt.

I got over the anger I felt at my doctor for letting me down. I got over the disappointment in not being able to take magical happy pills. And I got over the bitterness of feeling like I was facing all of this alone. Of course, it took a lot longer to fight my way out of it than I expected, and a side effect was a surprisingly painful case of writer’s block, but I’ve made it through the worst of it. And got off all my drugs. Well, caffeine is still a holdout, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

I worked on a plan for myself. Replace my bad habits with good ones. Simple in theory, difficult in execution.

1. Alcohol. This was the easiest one to stop. I still drink occasionally, but it’s a glass or two of wine with dinner. Once a week or so. I don’t really miss it.

2. Cannabis. DANG this one was harder than I anticipated. At first, I tried keeping a stash just for “emergencies,” but I discovered quickly that when you’re depressed, just waking up in the morning qualifies as an emergency. Then I tried getting Scott to hide it from me, dispensing it as “needed.” This just made me resent him, and, again, how can this work when I feel like I “need” it all the time? I finally and reluctantly admitted to myself that cold turkey was the only way to go. It was rough at first, without my sweet, sweet friend to help me with my moods. It’s amazing how much of a mood elevator that herb is. I had no physical withdrawals, but a heavy sadness pervaded initially. I missed my friend. I still do, but I don’t actually NEED it, and it was draining my time and money. So out it went.

3. Junk food. Holy SHIT this is one seductive bitch. It’s so easy for me to eat enormous quantities of food, and it’s not like I can quit FOOD cold turkey, so this one was REALLY rough. I just had to make myself say no to unhealthy food on a moment to moment basis. This intensified my anger like nothing else. I felt so much anger and hate at not being able to eat two Snickers bars in 5 minutes. Such violent feelings! I didn’t expect the hold that sugary junk food had on me and it pissed me off. I was mad that I was such a slave to it, and I was mad that I had to give it up. Fuck!

4. Caffeine. I still drink coffee and tea, but I have stopped buying 12 packs of diet soda. Seriously, I would go through one of those in 2 days. Plus coffee. There were days I drank absolutely no water. I am not kidding. I was like a chain smoker, only it was a can of soda constantly in my hand. My mother and sister are still worried about my caffeine intake, but it has reduced dramatically with giving up buying soda. Curiously, giving up soda didn’t make me angry like giving up my other drugs. I just got all sad and wistful about it. I’m down to 2 cups of coffee in the morning, and 1 or 2 glasses of iced tea during the afternoon.

So those are the bad habits I’ve kicked. The flip side of the work I’ve been doing is replacing the bad habits with good ones. I focused on:

1. Exercise

2. Healthy food

3. Writing

4. Fun

First, exercise. I hit a stumbling block when I got a car this summer. I know that sounds weird, but I went from riding my bike everywhere, to driving everywhere. My activity level plunged, and I gained 15 pounds without even realizing it. Shit! I’ve had to start actually working out again. This is harder than it sounds when you have a 2 year old AND you’re struggling with feelings of depression. What I had to do is just make myself. No, I didn’t want to get out the stroller and walk Liam around the fucking park. No, I didn’t want to waste precious naptime to do aerobics with Jane Fucking Fonda. But I did it anyway. I still don’t have a regular routine or anything, I just make myself exercise in some way every day. Aerobics, bike rides, walks, dancing, whatever I can do to move, move, MOVE. It becomes more of a habit every day.

Second, healthy food. This dovetailed nicely with giving up the junk food. Veggies filled the vacuum left by Little Debbie Cosmic Brownies. No, I was not happy about it at first. Anger, anger and more anger. Most of you know how I feel about cooking, so this one was tough, but it was another case of just fucking do it. What helped with this was that, without junk food and weed, my appetite plunged dramatically. I just didn’t care to eat as much, so cooking food became less of a big deal. I didn’t have the monkey to feed.

Third, writing. I love writing. It may sound conceited, but I love what I write. Sometimes I’ll read things I’ve written over and over again, just for pleasure. I love the way words sound when I read them out loud. I love stringing phrases together to create images or emotions in myself and others. I love the thoughts that words provoke. I love to read. I love to write.

When the depression was at its worst, it was like my brain was constipated. I could see words and phrases swirling around in my head, but I was somehow unable to organize and articulate them. This drove me crazy at times. I wanted the words to come out so I could read them over and over again. But they refused. Every time I tried to write something, I’d wander off on a tangent and frustrate myself.

My solution to this was to create a schedule for myself and stick to it. No matter how far off topic I got, or how badly disorganized I felt. I’ve dusted off two projects that have been on the back burner for a year or so, and I finally feel up to writing publicly again. This has been a great relief for me.

Finally, FUN! This one was a lot harder than I thought it would be, for two reasons. One, my husband and I have been having serious problems in the last year. I’m not sure if my depression was caused by our difficulties, or vice versa. It doesn’t really matter now. The point is, we had work to do. And work we have. The way I’ve always dealt with relationship problems in the past is to sleep with the guy’s best friend and move to another state. I decided to try something different this time and actually WORK on my relationship with my partner. We’ve done counseling together, as well as using the emotional distance between us to work on ourselves separately. Lots of tears and screaming. Lots of hurt and anger. But no more running away. No more hiding. No more lying to ourselves and each other. We’re still not happy together, but we’re facing each other honestly now, and working towards a common goal: Family happiness.

The second obstacle to me finding more fun in my life is that my circle of close girlfriends collapsed on itself. First, one got a different job across town, which kept her out of my daily life (we had previously worked together and seen each other almost every day). Her new schedule, plus my depression created quite a distance between us that I’m still working to bridge. Another of my best friends left her partner and moved out of state. Which put a stop to our almost daily visits with each other. It was a body blow to my already broken heart. The only thing that kept me going was knowing this was the best decision she could make for herself and her son. My third best friend still lives here in Savannah, but we are no longer neighbors. She used to live upstairs, and we saw each other all the time. Well, Scott and I bought a house and moved out. Now Jenny and I have to plan times to see each other and neither of us is good at that. But we’re working on it, mostly because we still need each other.

So that’s where I’ve been. I’m still overweight. I still cry too much. I still struggle with feelings of anger and sadness. I still have work to do on my marriage. I still have much to do in my search for happiness.

But the dark cloud that had covered me has gradually dissipated, like the mist over the Savannah marsh on a sunny morning. I no longer cry when the alarm clock goes off in the morning. I still have to make myself do things, but at least it’s possible to do that now. Months ago, I couldn’t even make myself take my son to the park to play. Now I’m back. Doing, playing, living. I’m not always happy about it, but the gains (although slow and gradual) are very real. More energy. More smiles. More fun.

I’m grateful to my friends and my family for all their help. Although I’ve felt so alone through much of this, I have had help and support at every turn. Thank you Liam, Scott, Jenny, Colleen, Linda, Brandy, Heather, Sandy, Christina, JinHi, Mark, Red Patrick, Nina, AJ, Shelli, Tony, Lori, Keitsa, Jessica, Kara, Mom, Dad, and of course, Bobtail Mojo. I love you all.