Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Is this what happy is supposed to feel like?

Glossary:
DH - Dear husband
AF- Aunt Flo
O - Ovulate
ICSI - intracytoplasmic sperm injection (expensive advance reproductive therapy)

In 2006 I was diagnosed with depression and bipolar II disorder. I was off my meds for several years, and just got back on them about 3.5 months ago. My psychiatrist decided that my depression wasn't bad enough to give me a second medication, so she just prescriped Equetro for my BP. It has worked fairly well, and I haven't had any intense mood swings. But... I don't think I'm happy. I sure don't feel happy. I feel, well, depressed. I can't get excited about anything. I don't want to leave the house, because it requires so much effort to get out the door. I don't want to cook because it hurts to stand for too long. I don't want to go to work because it means I have to get out of bed. All I do when I get home from work is sit on the couch and watch tv til I can force myself to go to bed. I know this isn't normal. I've done this for 6+ months. When I see a baby on tv or on FB, I have to change the channel. I've stopped talking to every person I know that has recently had a baby, because all they do is talk about the baby.

And my husband is depressed, too, although he'd swear otherwise. He has stopped talking to the friends he has that had babies as well. At first he just said, "I'm happy for you, but it's really a sensitive subject for me, could we talk about something else." After the guys kept rubbing it in his face that they were dads, her started ignoring all texts and phone calls from them.

I just really don't know what to do. I know that in order to increase our chances of having a baby, I need to lose weight and get my symptoms under control. I KNOW I need to do that. And when I'm thinking about what I want to eat, I'll tell myself I've got to be good and start eating better. Then what happens? I order the bad food anyway. I know I need to start exercising, but when I think about doing it, I start to panic because I don't have an inhaler for my exercise-induced asthma, and I freak out about having an asthma attack. On the weekends, when I remember that I need to take my herbal supplements for PCOS, I think about how I have to get off the couch, make sure I eat with certain pills, and I wait long enough after taking them before I eat again, and I just decide not to take them.

I know I need to clean my house. When I'm sitting on the couch and I look around at the mess, it just makes me sick. But when I get up and have half-a-minute's worth of motivation, I look at the mess again and realize that there is a lot more work to do than the time I have to do it, and I sit back down and don't do it at all.
Whenever I think about doing something, I always question myself and wonder, "What's the point?" I know that even if I get my symptoms under control, get AF back and start to O, it won't do us any good. DH has azoospermia, and we can't afford to take him to the doctor (or pay for insurance) to get it checked out, and determine why. We don't know if his problem is reversible, or if we will have to resort to ICSI. It's just this feeling of hopelessness and despair that I can't shake, no matter how I try.

Even though DH and I have talked about getting around his azoospermia by using a donor, I don't think I can bring myself to do that. DH said that he would love the baby as his no matter what, but how do I explain it to our child later on? "We don't know who your dad is, we just have his medical records." "Your dad is defective, so we used some other guy's sperm to make you." "Your dad is not really your dad." If someone ever told me that my dad isn't my biological dad, I'd be heartbroken. My grandparents aren't really my grandparents. My sister isn't my full-blooded sister. I couldn't handle that, and would never want to expect my child to, either.

I asked DH last night, "If you could go into NiNi's office with me, is there anything at all you'd like to tell her?" He said no. And this broke my heart. Why? Because I don't know if I'm just that good at hiding this pain and anguish, or if he doesn't pay enough attention to me to see it himself. So I rephrased my question to him and still got the same answer. "So you think that the meds I'm taking have done what they should and I don't need any adjustments?" Again, no.

I just can't handle all this anymore, and I didn't know who else to talk to. I don't know how to bring this up with my psychiatrist, because she'll just complain that I didn't bring it up a few months ago at our first session.

I want to start over. Go to a place where no one knows me, where I have a clean house, a job that includes insurance, where I can start fresh.

Has anyone else felt like this? If so, what did you do? What medications did you take? What can I do to be normal again?

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