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The Pursuit of Happiness

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I spent the weekend in a funk.  A serious, “Are you okay”—“Yes, I’m okay”—“But you seem off“—“Well I feel off” kind of funk. And I think a variation of that conversation happened no less than five times.

I just felt, off.

I don’t know what it was. 

Part of me thinks it was because it was the end of my placebo week on birth control pills.  I think that the combo of Celexa and my non low-dose birth control (i.e. a steady dose of estrogen and progesterone) help keep a steady dose of hormones in my system.  (Weird, right?  Most women are turned into raving lunatics by birth control and I’m “normal” while on them…)

Or maybe I was just having an off couple of days and there is no other excuse besides that.

At any rate, this all got me thinking about the good ol’ Declaration of Independence. I mean, yesterday WAS the 4th of July and all.  (And yes, I’m totally serious when I say that my “off” weekend got me thinking about the Declaration.  While washing my hair, no less.)

Before I go on and say what I’m going to say, let me first say that I love America.  I love being an American.  I’m proud of my country and the battles that have been fought here to preserve our way of life, (despite the fact that I’m quite the pacifist).  No one doubt that, mmkay?  Thanks.

Here’s the thing about the Declaration of Independence–it was a largely symbolic document. 

It DID unite a nation.

It made the Colonists (who would hereafter become known as Americans) go “HALLELUJAH! We’re a new country!”

It did NOT end a war. 

It didn’t make King George go “Oh, you know? I’ve been really cruel to them.  My bad.  I’ll let them have their independence now.”

The Americans went on fighting the war with Great Britain for another SEVEN YEARS.

I can sense some of y’all are getting a little furious with me, so I’ll get to the point.

I can declare myself free from the tyranny and oppression of post partum depression and anxiety.  I can say “I DECLARE MYSELF FREE OF THIS BATTLE FOR MY SANITY.”

But that doesn’t mean that PPD/PPA is giving me my independence. 

So, despite the fact that I’ve had a run of a fantastic couple of weeks home with Joshua, I’m bound to have some “off” days here and there where, really, if the truth be known, I just want to be in the bed with my covers over my head blocking out the daylight. 

I think it’s normal to have those days, despite the fact that I wish I didn’t have them anymore.  I want to be done with this chapter of my life, but periodically, those emotions and feelings creep in and I’m left sort of in a daze, staring into space and being quiet, which is not the norm for me.


So, today is a new day, and I’ve attempted to begin it well and serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered* with my emotions from yesterday.

It’s working a little bit.  We’ll see how it goes.

*I really, really love Ralph Waldo Emerson and his Transcendental friends.

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