Archive for the ‘TheRapists’ Category

Where to begin…

Posted 04 Oct 2011 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category TheRapists

To say I’ve fallen off the blogging wagon would be an obvious understatement.

Every once in a while, this happens, where I just check out of the interwebs. I’ve been absent on the Twitter as well (and my Klout score has suffered accordingly. Yet I’m not so upset about that.)

This is one of those times where I’ve really just needed to focus on me. Try to get myself back in order.

I should begin at the (sort of) beginning.

Since around the time of a few months before BlogHer, my anxiety started spiraling out of control. Prior to BlogHer, I kind of didn’t realize it as much. I was blaming my constant tummy butterflies and on-edge feeling on my hectic schedule, work, getting ready to get in a tin can and fly to San Diego to hang out with a bunch of internet besties, and trying to take care of a toddler that was sick ALL OF THE TIME. That’s all it was. NERVES.

Then, my first night at BlogHer I had a full on panic attack. While at dinner. I had to leave right as our meal was served because I was convinced I was going to barf on a table with something like 14 people seated at it. I left the restaurant and walked back to our hotel alone, feeling like I was going to explode out of my skin, throw up and pass out all at the same time. I called the hubs who talked me down from feeling like I was going to die, and eventually got back to the hotel room, put on my jammies and turned on the TV. (Lucky for me True Blood was on. Vampire Eric for the relaxation win.)

I realized then and there that my anxiety had officially gotten out of control, and that I was suffering from it almost daily. I could actually talk myself into a mild panic attack just by recounting previous panic attacks. (In fact, I’m getting lightheaded just typing this.) I had to do something. Thinking about Abby getting a cold again made me want to get in my car and leave and never come back. Like, ever. Because I just couldn’t deal. I knew I couldn’t be the mother and wife I should be and feel that way at the same time.

I talked to my therapist for the first time since March. After listening to me talk for a while, she looked me straight in the eye and calmly said, “Jenna, I think maybe it’s time to think about taking some medication.”

Ever since I started seeing her back in July of 2010, when I was dealing with some postpartum depression, it was evident I also had some anxiety issues. However, I was able to combat those AND my feelings of depression quite well with therapy and mental exercises. I was proud of myself. I didn’t need medication. I didn’t want medication. I was able to beat this on my own.

I never wanted to take medication. It felt like…defeat. That was just it, though. At this point my anxiety was winning. I was feeling defeated. I had to do something.

She recommended a psychologist she’d worked with in the past (as she is unable to prescribe meds herself.) I met with the psychologist and we talked about my past and my current issues with anxiety. She discussed different medications and then told me what she would recommend for me, and why. My fears of taking medication were, for the most part, quelled. The fact that there are medicines out there that can stop a panic attack dead in it’s tracks? Unbelievable to me. And totally awesome. And how sad I didn’t do this sooner when I’d been suffering, because I was too proud to admit I wasn’t in control anymore.

I’ve been on medication for two weeks now. It will take up to eight weeks before I should feel the full effects. Some of the side effects have been difficult, but are diminishing as time wears on.

Just knowing that I will be better, that I will feel normal, is so huge. That I don’t have to feel out of control anymore, and know I’ll be able to deal with minor stress without my brain exploding.

It’s been a rough couple of months in our house.

Things are looking up.

And I promise to be around more often.

Promise.

My therapist made me do it.

I bought something online.

But it was necessary.

I visited my therapist this week and unloaded on her.  She agreed that the culmination of the past month’s events would be enough to send anyone over the edge, no less someone who’s very familiar with PPD/A.

Sometimes it just takes hearing it from someone else’s mouth to make it all the more easy to deal with.

I can’t control a lot of things, like when Abby gets sick, or when scary stuff happens at work. I CAN try to control other things, like how much sleep I get, or stopping myself from feeling overwhelmed.

So, we devised a plan which I later shared with the hubs about how we as a family can help me, the mama, not go off the deep end. One plan is how we handle our sleep situations when Abby’s sick (like alternating having someone sleep on the couch (and that person gets the uninterrupted sleep) every other night). Another is assigning chores and days to complete them for the house.  I left her office feeling optimistic; still on-edge, but optimistic. Once I finally got enough cojones to talk to the hubs (like I said before, I have communication issues) and we discussed things, I feel better.

Immediately, I knew what I had to do.

I had to buy this:

The bamboo dry erase board by CB2. I had the remnants of the gift card left after making our combined birthday purchase of this duvet. So, after docking the $35 I had left on there, this only cost me about $35 (with shipping).

I know, I broke my month long online shopping hiatus. But I really feel like this will be SO VERY HELPFUL in our kitchen so we’re both reminded of our daily chores. If we know I’m only going to do laundry on certain days of the week, I know it should all be downstairs near the washing machine or it’s not going to get done. And if the hubs sees that it’s Sunday night and he should take care of the recycling & garbage, then I wont’ have to be a nag. Hopefully, it’ll turn our house into a well oiled machine, instead of being on OSHA’s watch list with a manic, chocolate & wine inhaling micro-manager at the helm.

Not to mention this so much prettier than those ugly white dry erase boards. Am I right? Can I get a witness?

In any case, I will not buy anything else this month. And if I don’t, I’m still $165 richer than I was last month.

In other news? SNOW IS MELTING. ABBY IS GETTING BETTER. LIGHT AT THE END OF THE WINTER TUNNEL.

And I think this weekend we’re going to finally replace the point & shoot camera I lost on the way to Mexico earlier this year. (Hence the lack of cute Abbers videos lately.) Get ready to be bombarded by the cute.

Admitting defeat is the first step towards…

Posted 09 Mar 2011 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category not so much, TheRapists

I was going to say “winning,” but after you finish reading the contents of this post, I didn’t want anything that might make me sound like Charlie Sheen.

Maybe I’ll say victory.

I haven’t been to seen the Magic Doctor (read: therapist) since before Christmas. I haven’t mentioned her here since September. Honestly, things felt better. I haven’t had an anxiety stomach since I don’t even know when. I’ve been happy with my job and not so worried about being a stay at home mom.

As I type this, I had in my head that I didn’t know why I suddenly feel like I’ve fallen down an emotional flight of stairs. I had thought maybe it was pressure I’ve been putting on myself to take care of everything at home. Really, I know it’s the culmination of a lot of things. I don’t cope well with change. (I don’t cope well with a lot of things, let’s be honest.) In the past month, the company I work for laid off 8% of it’s workforce, and we were kept in limbo wondering if we were losing our jobs. Luckily, I got to keep mine. We ended up with Abby in the ER on Sunday night. And when all this shit hits the fan, when I start feeling myself slipping down those first steps, I just try to deal. I try to fix in my mind whatever is pushing me. I try to focus on what makes me happy. It’s when I realize that nothing is making me stay happy that I’m falling.

That’s the way I’ve felt for weeks.

It grosses me out to think that my online shopping hiatus is adding to this, because as I jokingly title posts like that, it is what it is – retail therapy. I’m broke and not allowing myself to shop online and I have nowhere to put my negative energy. And it builds.

So, that’s where I stand. I have an appointment scheduled to see the Magic Doctor next week. Sorry if you’re a friend or family member reading this not knowing I felt this way right now.  Sorry if it seems weird that I have an easier time typing this for the whole interwebs to read before I would pick up the phone and call. I have trouble talking to people about this kind of stuff. If you couldn’t already figure that out.

Rest assured I’m not going off the deep end like Charlie Sheen. Although you can catch my first vlog tomorrow night entitled “Tiger Blood and Warlocks equal #WINNING.”

Progress. Sort of.

Posted 01 Sep 2010 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category marriage, motherhood, TheRapists

I haven’t really talked much about my escapades with therapy. It seems really personal, but at the same time I like being able to tell people that things DO get better. So I have to talk about it in some context.

There are a lot of things I talk about in therapy that I won’t talk about here though. Personal stuff is just that. PERSONAL. And it will more than likely stay that way.

I will say this: I don’t feel depressed anymore. I haven’t for a while. I don’t know if it’s because I have so much going on that I don’t really have time to dwell on things anymore, or if I’ve “gotten over” or worked through the issues I had that were depressing me, or if I’m just…you know…better.

However, my therapist was right when she said I have anxiety issues. I have had no less than 10 panic attacks in the past month, some of a lesser degree than others, triggered sometimes by things I do not understand. Three out of seven days a week I get “anxiety stomach” and try REALLY hard to make it go away. Usually it just has to on it’s own. She says I’m so maxed out with my anxiety that it really doesn’t take much to send me into an attack. And that is SO true.

Most recently, I had my dear friend (who is like, WEEKS away from having a baby) over for dinner. I didn’t see it coming, but just seeing her so pregnant made my heart race. Then we were on the couch talking labor and baby stuff…enter full blown anxiety attack. (Even recounting the situation right now is making me light headed.) I mentioned this to my therapist. By “mentioned,” I mean I got loud and talked fast and pretty much needed a paper bag to calm down. Next session (which won’t be for a couple of weeks) we’re going to talk about EVERYTHING. My whole pregnancy and labor will be discussed. And…I’m glad. I know that I need to work through my anxiety surrounding it so that when/if we want to have another baby I won’t have to be committed. The thought of having to talk about it all is making my heartrate go up.

::deep breaths::

So that’s where I stand. I’m better in some respects, and maybe worse in others. But I’m dealing. And I’m working on it. And so far, without medication. I will say I kind of wish I could be on something so I could avoid the anxiety stomach I get, but being without medication is also nice.

Stay tuned.

Whoomp! (There It Is)

Posted 02 Aug 2010 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category motherhood, TheRapists

I’m talking about mommy guilt.

As I was up with Abbers during her 3rd wake up at 3am, sitting in the glider rocking her back to sleep when it hit me. I’m leaving her. Again. We just left her with her grandparents about 10 days ago when we went to a cabin for the weekend. She stayed with them Saturday night for a concert we went to (also to get some much needed sleep). And now, Wednesday, she’ll be joining them until we get back from New York on Sunday.

And I cried.

I know I’ll have fun, and I know “we deserve to get away once in a while,” but that won’t stop me from feeling like the worst mother ever. And I know I’m not. But…you get what I mean.

Maybe canceling my TheRapist appointment today was a bad idea. But seriously, I HAVE TO PACK. And it will take me about 7 hours to do so, and feel comfortable that I didn’t forget anything important. Like, 3 pairs of high heeled shoes I’ll wear for 15 minutes each before removing and putting on my flats.

Why are there SEVEN boxes of Kleenex?

Posted 20 Jul 2010 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category motherhood, not so much, TheRapists

The title of this post is the very thought I had when I walked into a room I’m about to become very familiar with – the therapy room.

I had my first visit with a therapist yesterday.

Wait, I should pause for a moment to add this disclaimer. I’m sure some of you are thinking, DOODE. You’re just going to put that out there? For everyone to read? Even people you work with or like, barely know? And the answer is, YES. I almost didn’t get help because I was embarrassed to admit that I couldn’t help myself anymore, that I couldn’t fix my problems the same way I had been. I can only assume there are other people out there, not just people who’ve had babies, who have felt the same way. I’m here to admit that I’m not embarrassed to get help anymore.

Okay, so yeah. First therapy appointment yesterday. Probably THE WORST day to meet a therapist for the first time. I got about 5 hours of sleep the night before and had spent the 5 hours before going to bed and after waking up working on a project for work that was launching at the same time as my appointment. (Can you say STRESSED OUT?!)

One of the many lessons I learned yesterday is that, NO…I CANNOT WORK FROM HOME. I mean, I got stuff done, but Abby was all “MOMMA LOOOOOOOOOOOOK” but instead of saying that she was all “BAAAAAAAA MMAAAAA DADADADAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” until I’d pick her up. And then she’d try to dismantle my work laptop via teeth and fingernails that needed to be trimmed.

ANYWAY, I showed up to my appointment without the papers she wanted filled out because I couldn’t find a printer that worked in the 30 minutes I had before my appointment.  She didn’t mind, and escorted me into the therapy room.

It was small, felt like a den in someone’s home, and had SEVEN OPEN BOXES of Kleenex. I couldn’t believe it. I was like – WTF. Who needs this much Kleenex?

Within 20 minutes I had answered my own question. I cried so hard I couldn’t speak for almost 2 minutes.

I spilled everything I’d been bottling up for the last three or four months. Because I did feel better than I had a month ago, and I wasn’t as scared of my thoughts anymore, I admitted the horrible thoughts I’d had but was no longer having, even though I still had a fear she’d try to admit me to a hospital or have Abby taken away from me.  I told her about how I was starting to have episodes where I felt like I might explode, and just wanted to sit down where I was, cover my ears and scream. That sometimes knowing I’ll be in certain situations makes me want to curl into the fetal position and rock myself into oblivion. That I am constantly full of worry and totally unable to verbalize any of this to anyone for fear of how they’ll handle my thoughts.

We went through the dreaded depression checklist. By the end of my appointment, she was leaning towards my having anxiety issues moreso than depression. We’re meeting again soon to discuss my pregnancy and labor. She wasn’t also ruling out the possibility of PTSD after my labor experience.

When it was over, I walked outside and took a big deep breath. The sun was out for the first time that day. I felt like, twenty pounds lighter. I know everyone says “it’s like a weight is lifted off your shoulders” when you talk to someone for the first time, but it was. That was when I tweeted this:

I’m just so looking forward to not feeling this way anymore. I think I was ramping up to this for a long time, and my pregnancy was just the trigger to make it unmanageable. I don’t even care anymore though. I just want to be better, and I feel like I might be able to now.