Monday, July 13, 2009

Depression, Words and One's True Self

The first dayImage by _Massimo_ via Flickr

After Maya was born, I got the baby blues, you know, technically speaking, the post natal depression. I think it was a blend of fear (from my side, I was terrified by the new life that came from ME), loneliness, a feeling of helplesness (I didn't remember anything from when Darie was a new-born). The doctors didn't help and neither did the nurses from the clinic. They just kept scaring me, sending towards me waves of panick. The baby isn't growing, you are not feeding her the correct amount of milk yada, yada, yada. Everything just helped me sink deeper and deeper into my fears...Well, to cut a long story short, when I wake up from this long panick attack I was on anti-depressants and changing, from myself, into somebody else. Somebody happier, I agree and maybe calmer and less panicky, but that person just wasn't me. It is true that at night I went to sleep without thinking of earthquakes that will bring the building down or about dying, but, on the other hand, I didn't feel emotions, the way I used to feel them before. I didn't have nightmares, it is true, but I stopped day dreaming as well. I felt inside me a huge emptiness, a nothingness that sucked me inside. And most terrifying of all, I could'nt write. It was like the words died inside me. I always had many words humming inside me, like bees, and I had a sort of "working" relationship with them. From time to time, I let them out and they would stop haunting me, for a while. But with the medication, the words simply weren't there anymore. Like they went suddenly quiet and still.
So I decided that I didn't need the antidepressants anymore. Depressive or not, this is who I am, and the medication didn't change the way the world evolve around me, they started changing me, and I couldn't agree to that.
The weaning process was harder than I expected. I still fell dizzy and fainty at times, and my heart races. But I'm okay with that. There are other methods to help with panick attacks...But more important, I am back. Me, the true me, with my nightmares and vivid dreams, with my moods and my tears, with my fears and obsessions . And the words came back too. I can hear them humming...
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