A season of slump, survival, and slowly finding my footing again
I’ve been a bit more anxious than usual lately.
Stressed out. Impatient. Sunk into a hole of depression for no specific reason.
It happens sometimes when you’ve got a diagnosis of anxiety and depression — but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck.
I’ve managed my symptoms fairly well over the years, mostly with antidepressants. In the 12 years since I was first prescribed them, I’ve been on a few different ones and taken myself off a few times, too. But for the most part, I’ve always been on something. I’ve been on my current one for about three years now.
I remember when I first talked to my doctor about going back on meds. I told her I wasn’t interested in being on them for life — that maybe I just needed a temporary boost. She didn’t shut me down, but she did say something that stuck with me: most people who’ve needed meds three or more times will likely always need something.
And honestly? That’s okay.
The last month or so has been especially grueling.
What a lot of people don’t understand about depression — especially if they’ve never experienced it — is that it’s not always caused by circumstances. It’s not always about a bad life or a sad situation. Sometimes it’s just brain chemistry, plain and simple. That’s my case, most of the time.
So yes, I have a good life. A happy life.
And I still get depressed.
That doesn’t mean I hate my life.
It just means my brain lies to me sometimes.
Same goes for anxiety. Even when I know everything is fine, my body acts like the world is falling apart. I can’t control it — that’s just how my brain is wired.
I’ve been in a slump these past few weeks. And when I had a doctor’s appointment last week to follow up on my migraine meds, I sort of word-vomited all over my poor, sweet Georgian doctor with the adorable accent.
“So what else did you want to talk about today?”
I should have said: do you have all day?
Instead, I gave her a quick run-down of how I’ve been feeling, which basically boiled down to: I just don’t feel like myself lately.
Here’s the laundry list of symptoms I rattled off:
- Exhaustion and fatigue
- Crappy sleep and trouble staying asleep
- More frequent migraines (3–5 a month turned into 3–5 a week)
- Nausea
- Emotional eating / stress eating (ALL the sweets)
- Tension, impatience, irritability — especially with parenting
- Working out 4–5 times a week but still feeling tired and seeing no results
- General spike in anxiety and depression lately
A lot of these things are connected. If we can fix one, maybe it’ll help with the rest.
I told her some of it might still be me adjusting to full-time working motherhood (times two). I even took a pregnancy test recently because I felt so sick (no surprise baby here, don’t worry).
Sleep has been the biggest issue. And it’s not the kids — they sleep fine. It’s me.
I’ve never been a good sleeper. I toss and turn, I wake up constantly. I’m a light sleeper, and nothing I try really helps me stay asleep.
Lately, I’ve been relying on over-the-counter stuff like Unisom or melatonin. They usually help me fall asleep — eventually — but not stay asleep. I can’t remember the last time I woke up feeling refreshed. That kind of exhaustion just wears on you.
So here’s our current plan:
- Double the dose of my current antidepressant — to help with the anxiety and depression
- Daily B12 supplements — bloodwork shows I’m deficient (again), and this should help with the fatigue
- A new prescription for Amitriptyline — to help with both the insomnia and the migraines
- Continue Sumatriptan — for acute migraine attacks
If these things do what they’re supposed to, I’ll hopefully start sleeping better. And if I’m sleeping better, maybe I’ll feel less exhausted. Less tense. Less sick. Fewer migraines. Fewer tears. It’s all interconnected, and I’m hopeful.
Right now, I’m just focusing on feeling better mentally. And honestly? I’m already starting to feel the fog lift. Just saying it out loud to my doctor helped.
I’m okay. I’m functioning. I’m taking care of my babies. I’m doing what needs to be done.
I just haven’t felt like me lately. Not fully.
It’s a season. A wave. A slump. And I can already feel it passing.
I’m thankful for that. I’m still reading lots. I’m still working out consistently. I’m still paying down debt.
But I think I’m going to stop obsessing over the number on the scale for a bit. I was putting too much pressure on myself, and it was feeding the anxiety.
Right now, I’m being active. I’m building good habits. The weight loss will happen when it happens. In the meantime, I’ll be here — doing what I can, where I am.
I want to slow life down. Spend more time at home. Leave some blank space on the calendar for once.
That never seems to happen… but maybe.
The doctor said to give it all about a month and check back in. Adjustments can be made. We’ll go from there.
I guess I’m writing this because (1) I always overshare, and (2) so many people struggle with anxiety and depression. And that’s okay. You’re not alone.
We shouldn’t be ashamed of it. We shouldn’t try to muscle through it alone. I usually do — but this time, I asked for help. And help was there.
That’s a good reminder, I think.
There are plans. There are people. There are ways through the fog.
We just have to speak up. Even if all we can manage is: “I’m tired, but I’m trying.”
That’s enough.
That counts.
That matters.
And some days, that is the bravest thing we can do.
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