So, yeah. I bit the bullet and I’m on an absurdly low dose antidepressant. I don't plan on being on it forever, but thank God, it's working! Everyone kept telling me “it will take the edge off,” and I had no idea what that meant. Now I do. I don’t cry at the drop of the hat. And now the pit in my stomach is gone, or if it comes, it visits a for a short while. I’m still faced with flare ups of worry, but I’m able to move on. Shit. Is that what normal people do??
I don’t think I’ve ever heard my mother utter the word “anxiety” so maybe it was just something I dismissed . But what tipped me over the edge was seeing how my ever-present sadness and terror was not only affecting me, but it was scaring the daylights out of my husband, who has been through enough as it is. Enough was enough.
Another update is that I’ve been going twice a week to the Livestrong program at the Y. While I’m so happy to have met a couple ladies around my age (youngest still being 10 years older, but she’s awesome), with whom I can talk frankly about everything from tears to fears, the program is a bit of a letdown in the exercise department. I think my fitness level is above what they’d expect, and being the youngest and having stayed active throughout treatment, I’m impatient with the sanctioned “10 minutes of light cardio” and then a dinky Nautilus circuit doing where we are ordered to only do 1 set. (not a fan of nautilus machines, I’m a free weight gal). But I’m glad I’m doing it. I tried something new and put myself out there and it’s therapeutic without being too preachy. Our conversations come naturally, side by side on the eliptical or the treadmill, “My new boobs look phenomenal. But they feel terrible.”
Hair is growing, and yes I'm happy, but I'm dreading what is already turning from chic pixie to sprouting weirdness, despite only 2 weeks ago getting my first hair cut (thanks again to my angel Maura).
I still look at the certain drawer in the bathroom and get sad. It has my blow dryer, hair straightener, hair ties, hair brush, clips, Bobby pins...you get the idea. All if it I had to stuff in a drawer for 11 months, and likely won't be able to use for another several months. It's still freaking sad. It's still catch my reflection and think GOD, What happened?
i wonder if that will ever go away.