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Withdrawal

on May 26, 2008

I've been taking 'crazy pills' now for…  oh, almost two years.  I was put on them back when I was just three months pregnant with Talya.

It was a good decision at the time.  I honestly could hardly cope for a long time WHILE being pumped full of their feel good medicinal qualities.  I have a history of post partum depression, with the last two kids, and once the warning signs hit, my doctor lost no time in getting the drugs into my system before it got really bad.

And you know what?  It was worse this time…  and yet it was better too.  Ja understood more.  We knew what to expect.  Our support level before the baby was born was through the roof.  Some days I simply cried… and he simply held me.

We are so incredibly blessed that Ja, also known as Wonderhusband, was able to take about ten months off of work for parental leave.  Ah, how I love living in Ontario!  Having him home was wonderful at first.  He really got a taste for how it is to be home all the time.  He looked at me one day after he had been home for about a week and said, “How do you do this ALL. THE.  TIME.”  It was a good moment for me!

In the past month or so I've felt that the drugs that I'm on, Wellbutrin, weren't doing their job anymore.  It seemed to me that I had a worse time coping, a worse time with being high up and then low down when I took them than when I didn't.  I was only on the crazy pills for about a year after Ephraim was born, and this time I was in absolutely no hurry to get off them.  I was afraid to go off them.

Now I know it's time.  I started weaning off by taking one pill every other day, then just expanding the time between taking the pills.  I thought I was doing so great, this weekend was the one week marker of no drugs, and I was feeling pretty good.  Ja and I talked about it, and even he said I seemed steadier.  We were both pretty happy with the decision, ready to move on, although always keeping an eye out for the clouds that could smother the family at any moment.

And then Saturday happened. 

It started out okay.  We were going seed planting.  We went, bought some seeds, and I was going to get some gardening gloves.  No troubles, right?  Ja suggested we wait til we stopped at his store for the gloves, because he can get them at slightly above cost.  That's all good.  I knew I was starting to feel a bit panicky…  I'm not sure why.  Well, three kids in a small and cramped seed store is never a good thing, I suppose. 

We got to Ja's store, and he made me go in, even though I just wanted to wait in the van with the kids.  Then they didn't have any gardening gloves.  And I quietly said I was going to take the baby back to the van and wait.  I got back to the van and lost it.  I don't know why I was so hurt that he thought I wanted the expensive gloves in the first place, or why it bothered me so much that they didn't have any gardening gloves at his store, but it seemed to strike me to the core.

The rest of the day simply didn't go well.  I lost it when we were trying to plant the vegetable garden because it was so not ready.  I lost it when the baby would not leave me alone.  I lost it when…  well, there were a lot of times.  And the stupidest thing?  Didn't even realize it was probably withdrawal going on until late that afternoon.  Like after dinner.

Poor Ja.  He didn't think of it either.  Just thought that his wife was some kind of crazy loon, I think. 

We did turn the day around a little.  Went for a walk to the creek, had a little splash.  Snuggled with the kids.  As soon as I realized that it was the withdrawal going on, it was like I could keep a handle on it.

Yesterday was better.

Today will be better still.

I will beat this.  WE will beat this.

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