Why do I find it so much easier to talk about Vince’s illnesses than my own? Is it because his are physical and mine are not? Maybe it’s simply because it’s him, not me. If I look at it like that, that sounds quite unfair if you ask me. I am willing to discuss all of his medical situations and ask for support, but when it comes to my own, I want to run and hide and not tell anyone? Why should I feel any different? I don’t know, but I do. I think part of the reason is that this is who he is. Type 1 Diabetic. Practically since birth. It’s part of him and has always been part of him. Well, that is not the case for me. You see, I have Anxiety. Really bad Anxiety. I developed it about 5-6 years ago. I found myself yelling at Vince for no reason at all. Crying on Sunday nights because I was so stressed about the work week to come. Racing thoughts in my head about this or that. I always shrugged it off as me being a little stressed. I remember the Sunday afternoon when Vince pleaded with me to go to the doctor. I was crying, bawling, on the side of the bed as Vince just sat there with me asking me over and over why I was crying. I said “I don’t know” and it was true. I had no idea why I was so upset. I said maybe I am just a little hormonal. He said, this has been happening more and more. I think it’s a little more than that. A short time later, I made an appointment to see our family doctor and was put on Lexapro. I began to feel a lot better. Around the same time, I began seeing a therapist too so I could start to deal with everything going on. It wasn’t the first time I saw a therapist. Having divorced parents, I had been on quite a few couches in my life as a child. People asking me this and that about my parents. Well here I am, now an adult and dealing with new problems. Anxiety and depression runs in my family and affects multiple family members, but it was never me. I always thought of it as “their problem” not mine. Not my disease or mental problem. I like to think I was always the quiet, caring, calm, and collective person however I no longer feel this way. I don’t feel like myself anymore. I told Vince about this recently and he said what do you mean? You’re not a child anymore, so of course you won’t be the exact same person as you once were. Your still all these things. The anxiety hasn’t changed who you are. I understand that but I feel like it has. I feel like it has made me an uneasy, and “hyper” like person. I often wish I could go back to the days before I had anxiety. Before all of the worrying and racing thoughts. I have good days and bad and have tried a few different medications but I feel best on the Lexapro and the Xanax for any especially bad days I have. I know I need to accept that this is the “new me” but it isn’t easy.
Sandy,
ReplyDeleteI used to keep all of my "stuff" bottled up inside.
Thought I was so strong and tough
I didn't cry; I didn't respond to horrible people at work; I handled Tom's horrible sugar lows in the middle of the night(which had become frequent)
Then everything crashed - literally
He wrecked the car and we got sued and a judge threatened to take away his drivers license which would mean the end of his job and finally his mother called me and blamed me for everything.
I broke -- that's when I finally did the real counseling and dealt with my own health issues. I too found it much easier to talk about Tom's medical issues than my own.
From a society perspective, its still easier to say "i have a medical condition" than to say I have a "mental condition" or worse and "emotional condition" right?
Tom convinced me that the chemical imbalance I deal with is just as serious as his - just different. Now I'm on medication (Lexapro at the moment) for the rest of my life. I know that if I don't, my depression gets very serious. Its not a question.
Maybe you don't care about my situation - but thought it may help to know that your story is mine.
Hang in there - there will be better days.....
Thank you so much Toms wife. I hope you are feeling good and feeling like you are in charge of your life. On my bad days, I don't. But there are always good days to come. :)
ReplyDeleteIt is definately difficult to admit to a "mental condition," but until we do we'll never be able to take care of ourself or the people around us.
ReplyDeleteWhen my mom and I talk about my condition she always compares my medication to being as neccessary as insulin to a diabetic. Unfortunately not everyone will understand it, but that's the great thing about blogging. The people that judge us can be ignored and the people that emcourage us can definately be a blessing.