I think it’s time for a fresh start. I’ve been AWOL for quite a wile now, and I think I’ve gained some perspective on myself.
Shortly after my 6th miscarriage back in June, I finally broke and talked to my doctor at the time about starting some Happy Pills. That same day I started 50mg of Zoloft each day. It took a bit for it to kick in (and there were… Issues while waiting), and there were some unfortunate side effects to going on it, but I think it was worth it.
Admittedly, I started drinking a bit too often. I used the excuse of new friends to justify it, but really, I was just hiding. I wasn’t a full blown alcoholic or anything, and in the grand scheme of things I wasn’t drinking any more than the average person, but my intent was different. I was drinking to finally allow myself to relax and feel something, and then in turn used it as a way to hide from what I was trying to feel.
I’ve always been a pretty emotionally withdrawn person. In my family, you deal with a situation or crisis and then you deal with the emotional repercussions. For me, my crisis hadn’t ended so I was stuck in this trap of dysfunctional coping. I didn’t want to feel, but at the same time I was horrified by the fact that I seemed unable to feel anything.
In the end, I began searching for any reason to have a beer, or two, or more… maybe pop a Vicodin for good measure. It didn’t end well. My last night of real ‘drinking’ I ended up needing a ride home from work (I had a temp job working in a casino). I had gone out drinking with a co-worker, and purposefully had too many. I don’t remember the order too well, but at some point I called both my step dad and Xannatos. I needed a ride home. In the end, Xannatos was really pissed off, and my step-dad showed up with my youngest sister to take me home.
By the time I got home, I was convinced my marriage and my life were over. Either that night, or the following, we had a huge fight. Again, I don’t remember much of it… I was a lot further gone than I thought. In the end, I’m pretty sure I admitted to Xannatos what was going on and we talked. He admitted to not realizing how hard everything had hit me.
I believe it was that scenario that finally led me to get some help.
It took a few weeks for the meds to kick in, but when they finally did it was like there was finally hope. I was able to successfully avoid the obsession of my miscarriages and focus on other things. Maybe it’s not the most healthy way of doing things, but it worked out for me in the end.
There’s more to this story, and when I’m feeling up to it, I’ll write some more. However, my reboot has officially started. At the beginning of December, I talked with my new doctor and with Xannatos about getting off of the Zoloft. It’s been a bit of a roller coaster, but I’ve been able to deal with it. I’m not perfect yet, but there’s been some steps towards healing. I successively encountered my first baby in 6 months. That’s right, I had become a shut-in when it came to babies. It hurt, and it was bittersweet, but I’m ok.
On Monday, I’m headed to the Bay Area to visit my grandparents, and I’m getting my ‘memorial/motivational’ tattoo. It’s going to take up most of my forearm, and I’m in love it it. I’ve tried several times in the last 6 months to get a tattoo, and I’m glad that each time it didn’t work out. I don’t think I was ready to take that step.
I am now.