Last year at this time I had my shit together. At least, more than I ever have. I was happy with my progress and felt certain that I could continue.
I changed our diet as a family, and we all felt so much better. We grew our first garden and canned our first batch of food. We were becoming self-sufficient, and I loved it. I managed to keep the house relatively clean (with 3 kids, a Mastiff, and various cats clean just ain't happening). I was actually a fairly helpful homeroom mom for my kids. I started a blog about the new lifestyle my husband and I were so excited about, and I got back flattering feedback on it. I was doing yoga daily. My husband and I walked/jogged every afternoon. I was content.
Then sometime in the deep darkness of winter, it fell to pieces. My depression
grabbed me and pulled me lower than I have ever been. All will to improve vanished overnight. I could not force myself to do anything. It was horrible, frustrating, and frightening.
My husband tried to be understanding like he has been many times before. After 4 months, his patience ran out. I had to get help or he couldn't see us continuing like we were. Well, that sufficiently pushed me to make an appointment with my doctor. My mom insisted on going with me. I was wrapped in a wool coat, freezing, and allowing my mother to answer all questions for me. It was an almost out-of-body experience. I have rarely felt so detached.
We tried 4 or 5 meds, 3 or 4 combinations of meds, and today I still am not satisfied. There is nothing that holds my interest (with the exception of you wonderful people). I cannot get back into a groove that works for me and everyone else.
I'm so tired. There has to be something that can shake me out of this stasis, but it isn't coming forward.
Blah, blah, blah.