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Thursday, August 1, 2013


I was on the phone with my BFF today, and between her telling her 4 year old not to feed his little sister mud on a stick and me telling Brennan that he could not come to the dinner table without underpants on, she casually mentioned the fact that I haven't blogged lately.

Yep.  Guilty.

This morning I headed to see the NP at my OBGyn's office.  At my annual visit back in June, she asked how my Paxil was working and I said it just "OK".  I wasn't feeling terrible, but I was haNJving more "blue" days than I was comfortable with.  I was functioning more an auto-pilot than my children deserve.  I was bitchier than my husband should have to live with.  The frustration and guilt of recognizing all of this caused more anxiety than I was OK with having.  After more discussion, we increased the dose and booked a follow-up appointment.

It took about 2 weeks to notice a change.  And I noticed a great change.  It's hard to put into words how awesome I felt.  It wasn't a high or a manic happiness feeling, but for the first time in longer than I can remember I felt good.  Like really, really good.  I had energy, motivation, a positive attitude, and I felt fun.

That lasted for about 2 weeks, before I slowly slipped into a lull.  And since then I've been coasting on a feeling of more than just OK, but not really very good either.  Today, 6 weeks later, I told my NP all about this weird roller coaster.  We decided to try another bump up in the dosage, booked another 6 week follow-up, and she asked about the last time I'd seen my therapist.  I told her that it had been too long and promised to make an appointment with the therapist for next week.

Two hours after I got home, the phone rang.  It was my therapist checking in after several months of not hearing from me.  Whether the NP called or faxed or emailed her, I don't know.  But I took it as a sign.  I need to get back to being proactive about my feelings.  And that starts with taking time for myself.

Jess calling me out on the fact that I haven't blogged in awhile was the third sign of the day that I really need to start writing more.  It doesn't have to be anything fancy -- sometimes the fluffiest posts calm me the most.  There's just something about putting my fingers on the keyboard and just letting things flow that is very soothing to me.

So despite the craziness of my days -- the wild boys, the endless cleaning, my recent need to organize & purge the whole house -- I'm going to take more time for me.  I know that I'm a better Mom, wife, daughter, sister, & friend when I make a little time to take care of myself ... I just have to remember it.

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I write for me. 100%. BUT it definitely makes my day when someone tells me that they enjoy reading my blog. Or that they hate it. Whatev.

So don't spare me your words of wisdom, encouragement, or mindless babble. I enjoy it all :)