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Where’s Your Head At? Alternate Title: Tough Calls

October 14, 2013 by Miranda Leave a Comment

This is a tough post to write, but because I believe in being honest, I can’t not write it. And it’ll be choppy and vague in parts and I’ll do my best to explain as much as I can but some of this just isn’t my story to tell, so fill in the blanks, I guess. Or just give me the benefit of the doubt that I’m not being an asshole.

Today I called a therapist.

I alluded to it a week or so ago, but I’m not in a good place right now. I’ve seen signs of it for a while now, but I’ve dismissed them as random occurrences. Truth be told, I haven’t really been okay since June.

Talking about June will bring down a bit of a wrath I’m not sure I’m ready to handle, but that’s where this starts, I think. Maybe it starts before then. I’m not entirely sure.

In June I saw myself how other people saw me instead of how I saw myself. And I didn’t like what those people saw. It wasn’t who I wanted to be. It isn’t who I am.

It’s weird when that happens.

Even though I think the things said about me were born of some sort of personal conflict of which I remain unaware, previously discussed in private, and not from a place of legitimate concern for my well-being, I took note of them. There they were in black and white. How could I not? Absent the context in my real life, it was pretty miserable to read.

I know that I skew toward the negative. I always have. And Dan spent May and June preparing for a big thing at work and we fought quite a bit because he was stressed and I was…alone. My friends work or have lives of their own or are scattered hither and yon. It was just me. And I’d gotten so bogged down in my negativity and loneliness that I couldn’t see anything but that.

I had the internet. I turned to it. It bit me in the ass.

Eventually, I saw some truth in what was said about me and took steps to fix it. Not to be dishonest, but to shift my personal focus.

I focused on good things and good moments both online and off. (The snark kept coming anyway, so fat lot of good that did, you know?) Things got better.

July was a good month. Dan’s work pace slowed down. We took an amazing vacation. I thought I’d handled things.

And then Daddy died.

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I called my OB, the only doctor I’ve seen in the past two years, the day after he died and asked for a prescription for something to help me with anxiety because every time I thought about it, I felt the panic building.

He said no. Or, rather, he said he could give me something else. A different medication than the one I know works. I didn’t fill the prescription because why start something that won’t work?

We buried Daddy and I felt like no one understood just how different my world looked. Because no one did. Because no one could.

I looked around last week and realized that I didn’t know when I’d last done laundry. It had been at least a week. (Thank God for uniform rental companies!)

I didn’t care if I showered. And not in the “I’m conserving water!” sort of way which I don’t actually practice. In the “I haven’t showered since I don’t remember when and I don’t care if my hair can actually stand up on its own.”

I’d stopped eating. Dan mentioned it Friday morning, that I wasn’t eating our leftovers for lunch, and I realized that I wasn’t eating our leftovers because I wasn’t eating anything. I told myself it was because of State of the Weight. I was watching my intake. Well, yeah, if by watching my intake I meant not eating anything except dinner and living off of coffee.

Friday afternoon I called our insurance company to find out about copays and deductibles and referrals and all that adult insurance stuff. I got the names of a few clinicians in my area and then had a really great Friday night that sort of screwed with my head a little.

If I can be that kind of mom, do I really need the help?

Well, yes. I do.

Sunday morning I saw the chaos around me and realized it mirrors the chaos inside me. And then this morning is where it gets to the part of my story that I can’t talk about because that story isn’t just my story, so writing that story without taking care not to hurt others is complicated.

I’ve been in my head a lot. I’ve done a lot of thinking. And I’ve realized that I’m not in a good place right now and I need help beyond what I’m capable of doing for myself with a good night of sleep and a few hours at Starbucks every few weeks.

Today I called a therapist.

Filed Under: Life, Mental Health Tagged With: anxiety, depression, family is hard, Health, I might be crazy, life, mental health, mental illness, tough calls

Previous Post: « The Kind Of Mom I Wish I Was
Next Post: Tell All The Truth But Tell It Slant »

Reader Interactions

Comments

  1. Mae says

    October 14, 2013 at 1:52 pm

    I’m proud of you. Good job. Hugs and love and prayers, babe.

    Reply
  2. Alena says

    October 14, 2013 at 2:11 pm

    <3

    Reply
  3. Michelle k says

    October 14, 2013 at 2:44 pm

    That is the hardest part. Good for you for taking care of yourself.

    Reply
  4. TheNextMartha says

    October 14, 2013 at 3:10 pm

    Lots of hugs and support for you. You matter.

    Reply
  5. jennyonthespot says

    October 14, 2013 at 3:29 pm

    xoxox… you are doing a good thing, my friend. Love you.

    Reply
  6. Kelly Q says

    October 14, 2013 at 8:37 pm

    You should be proud of yourself for your honesty. Praying and wishing the best for you!

    Reply
  7. Nikki says

    October 14, 2013 at 9:10 pm

    Hang in there, Miranda. Best of luck to you getting through this time. Xo

    Reply
  8. Sally says

    October 14, 2013 at 9:41 pm

    You took the first step..that is good! My Mother struggles but she won’t admit it or let us get help for her. So glad you are doing this. Btw, wish I was nearby to meet you and see those precious children!

    Reply
  9. The Many Thoughts of a Reader says

    October 14, 2013 at 10:03 pm

    (((())) I’m a tweet away if you need an ear.

    Reply
  10. Kathryn says

    October 15, 2013 at 9:44 am

    i’m proud of you. not always easy, but definitely a great first step into becoming the person and mom you know you are.

    Reply
  11. Morgan (The818) says

    October 15, 2013 at 11:36 am

    Oh Miranda, you never have to go it alone. So glad you reached out. And want to punch the Internet just a little bit.

    Reply
  12. Ann @ Such a Mama says

    October 15, 2013 at 12:15 pm

    There have actually been studies that show just scheduling the appointment can make you feel better! Any shifts in Emma nursing? That has thrown me for a loop.

    Reply
    • Miranda says

      October 26, 2013 at 9:49 am

      Only if by shift you mean nursing ALL THE TIME. LOL. I do feel better even after making the appointment.

      Reply
  13. Heather says

    October 15, 2013 at 1:08 pm

    Hugs. Good job, strong brave amazing lady.

    Reply
  14. Jess says

    October 15, 2013 at 1:52 pm

    So glad for you. We’ve all been there. It will totally be worth it.

    Reply
  15. story says

    October 15, 2013 at 9:43 pm

    I didn’t know you were hurting so much. Which is okay, but I just want you to know I have your back. So proud of you for reaching out.

    And the Internet can be stupid sometimes. I think you are beautiful and talented and amazing. I am so sorry anyone made you feel like you needed to change.

    Reply
    • Miranda says

      October 26, 2013 at 9:50 am

      Yeah, I didn’t really talk about it because I didn’t feel like I really could. Thank you for being here.

      Reply
  16. Julie S. says

    October 18, 2013 at 3:27 pm

    It takes courage to make that call. Proud of you. Hugs and love being sent your way!

    Reply

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