I can completely relate. I took myself off my anti-depressent I was prescribed for "the baby blues" after having my son last December at the request of my doctor. I wasn't supposed to be on them for more than 3 months but I stretched it out to 10. The overwhelming feeling of dread and dispair has taken over my life. I can't even cry anymore. I've just become emotionally dead...

Oh, I SO remember that shock. I was still breastfeeding my twins and I thought: Really? Only seven months? That's all i get before I have to endure PMS, three-day migraines AND two infants? Doesn't seem fair.
But then it got better because you get used to it again and, more importantly, because I went back on the Pill and don't go off it except for once or twice a year out of some strange guilty feeling that I'm supposed to suffer as all women do once in a while. Makes my OB-GYN shake her head and sigh.
And now my twins are approaching puberty, with another daughter four years behind. Oh, my poor, poor husband. he has no idea what's coming.
Good luck. Don't forget to breathe. You *can* talk yourself down from those episides. And if not, then medicate. Without guilt.

I was going to write a story about how I used to have real, actual panic attacks 5-6 times a day and how I went insane from it but then your ending went and made me laugh and ruined the entire mood.

Do you think this is Mother Natures idea of a sick late Christmas present?? I am sooo glad I am past that part of my life. Good luck Heather, sounds like you are handling it as well as you can.

Why, I do declare, I hate that Miss Scarlett! I also don't love my panic attacks. Peace be with you, but not in an I'm in a Lutheran church way.

Oh, man! Do I (sorta) remember those days! First, you have the period for 6 weeks after the C-section, whereby you were gutted like a fish. Your hormones are all over the place. Then, the soul-crushing sleep deprivation that causes psychosis. And you have to act reasonably normal, 'cause folks is comin' to see the baby (Babies in my case. Twins!) and you don't want them to call Child Protective Services. I mean, you can get a way with a messy house, but Mama's got to have her act somewhat together. Perpetrating was *hard*!

So glad that's over and will *never* happen again!

Just when you think you've got things figured out they go and change! I chant "just breathe" and find my "happy place" which is a beach on Maui that I was at 12 years ago. I can still see it, a perfect day with just me, no kids, husband or phone, and a book.

Medication does help and so does getting out by yourself once in a while. I don't see by your postings that you are out much alone. Katie is even taking out your recycling. I know it's freezing cold and really miserable outside but it may be a good idea to just be able to walk away from it all and go recycyling, shopping or having a cocktail or two with a girlfriend. Sometimes it helps me.

Yes. Ugh. All of it.

But everything is ALREADY alright, even if you can't believe it.

For the record I don't name call. That's what she hears, so I try to use words like,

"why don't you talk about what you are feeling?"

"Is now a good time for you to talk to me?"

"I'm going to leave you alone, is there anything you need?"

Also: med reminders are allowed, but have to be handled nicely as well.

and yes, THIS COMMENT IS JUST DUMB.

I know the feelings.

For what it's worth, vitex (chasteberry root) really helped level out my hormones when I was dealing with PPD six months ago or so. You might check into it. Everything gets worse for a week and then much, MUCH better.

Hang in there kiddo. You're uber strong even if you forget it sometimes.

And by the way... the last picture of each of the girls are simply amazing. Their eyes. The greens and blues are breathtaking.

Oh my word woman!

In order to leave a comment, I had to sign up and I think promise to give you my left ovary, all in order to say....

Anxiety sucks.

Nothing worse. Period.

I could give you all the ways and things and books (The Anxiety Cure, by Dr. Archibald Hart) that have helped me...

But really, when I've been in my sucky place...I just want someone to agree with me.

It sucks.

Agreed.

Tis the season to have a mental breakdown. I'm in the midst of a *spectacular* one. Weaning myself off an anti-depressant that I've been taking for a number of years while simultaneously crashing headlong into 40 later this month. The breadth and depth of the midlife crisis I'm working up to is awe-inspiring. Glad I have a blog to puke it all into.

The nice thing is, I posted about my current state of mental instability/meds cessation/general fucked-up-ness, and got a slew of "Oh, me too, girlfriend!" replies. Nice to know I'm not the only basket case out there.

Hang in there, my little Doocester. At least you can blame hormones; my only excuse is that I'm a freakazoid mess.

Between "Falling to the Communists" and "Shark Week" (snagged from #14 above), I've got a much funnier arsenal of euphemisms now for this bit of inner workings.

For that (and so much other entertainment over the years), thanks! Happy 2010!

My mom used to call it George. That doesn't even make sense...