Thoughtful Thursday

We revisited the subject of "shades of gray" today.  As in, the inappropriate relationship with my brother wasn't malicious or even "abuse" in the strictest sense of the word.  We were just two relatively naive kids (at least I know I was... both my therapist and I suspect that something must have happened to him to have him act out like that... but anyway), just trying to get some affection, and it went too far. I go back and forth about this - on one hand, thinking about it this way makes me feel a little better because it means that it "wasn't that bad" and that my brother isn't a bad person.  On the other, it takes some of the blame off of him and puts some on me, regardless of the fact that I didn't know what I was doing.  Because neither did he, really. 

My husband thinks that there must be more than this, that I'm maybe repressing something, because he wants to know why this has affected me as much as it has over my lifetime.  My answer to that question? Honestly? I have no idea. I talked to my therapist about that today, too, and she doesn't think that I repressed anything.  She said that my memories are much to clear for that, except that I'm not sure how it started or stopped.

I know, I know, you're probably thinking that I've gone over this a thousand times in this blog... I'm trying to understand it, I really am.  It's probably something that I'll never have a clear answer for, but hence the shades of gray.

The other thing we discussed was my mood lately.  I'm becoming more and more depressed. Something isn't right with my meds.  And that's really bothering me.  I just want to feel normal and good for a change, and have it last longer than a week.  I'm so damned tired of feeling this way.  It's so bad that I've been considering coming off the medication all together.  My therapist told me that most people with my diagnosis have to tweak and re-tweak their meds for a year before they get it right. Not exactly something that I wanted to hear. 

I have an appointment with the PNP on Monday... I came up with a list of the things I want to tell her.

• I keep getting the "zings" - i.e. those little zaps you get when you skip a dose of Zoloft or something like that. Except that I haven't missed a dose.  I get the zings mostly in the morning, and it tends to go away as the day goes on.
• Irritable - I'm so damned irritable. Everything bugs me lately.  I can't even describe it.  Picture the worst PMS you've ever had, or the worst mood you've ever been in, and multiply it by 10 and that's how I've been feeling.  It's not just directed at the kids, or my husband, it's like an itch between my shoulder blades that I can't scratch, the proverbial hair across my ass.
• Depressed - self explanatory.  No motivation, the world is just flat and gray and nothing seems to make me happy these days.  
• Brain fog - I'm clumsy, tongue-tied, I move a little too slowly, my thought process seems to have come to a stand-still, and my memory is virtually non-existent.

I'd also like to tell her that in spite of all that, at least I'm sleeping well.  And I'm going to tell her that the best I've felt since starting antidepressants was when I was at 75mg Zoloft (I'm at 50 now) and that I was hypomanic at 150mg Zoloft - so I think something in between might work.

The positive side of the visit today was that my therapist thinks that I've had a lot of personal growth over the last year.  I agree - I've grown up a lot.  Thinking about that, I remember my therapist asking me last year how old I felt.  I said between 16-18. Makes sense when you figure that I was stuck there developmentally based on the relationship I used to have with my parents.  Now if you asked me I'd say that I feel like I'm pretty much true to my age.  Don't ask me to explain it... I just feel more mature, as silly as that sounds.  I feel more serious, more introspective, more congruent.

Oh, and last but not least... she showed me a book called The Good News About Depression.  The "good news" is that depression is biological - as in, I can't just pick myself up by the boot straps and move on.  Another gray area there for me. It's good because I can't just "get over it."  It's nothing that I'm doing wrong; I'm not weak.  And it's bad because I can't just "get over it." It's a thing I'm going to be struggling with for the rest. of. my. life. 

So yeah. This appointment was fully loaded from start to finish.