The new year (1993) had come in without a bang for me because I was not at the point where I could celebrate, Dr. M had prescribed at first Paxil for me to no avail and then finally I was put on Prozac with the milligrams increasing to a high level, I had been in "Talk " Therapy with a wonderful woman I'll call Dr. E for a few months and I felt many burdens leave my spirit as soon as the words left my mouth.
There wasn't too much to learn from DR E because for me I was always able to answer "Why" things happened, or why I let things happen or why I did the things I did......I just needed to speak of them, say them out loud for the first time and then let them go. I had wrote briefly about my therapy in an earlier entry so here is a small exert from how I equated that discovery back in time, back in my life and mind.
Decades (written 9/26/04) read whole entry here..... Decades
"My fourth decade is where I shattered. I couldn't do it all anymore. I knew in order for me to go forward I had to go back to my past. I dealt with childhood issues that I thought were long taken care of. I liken it to a long hallway with many doors, some doors well lit, some cast in shadows. There were a few that I just wanted to take a peek in, just to relive a great memory, and there were others where the doors were scorching hot, and they burned me as I turned the knob. I opened all but a few. Those were the doors that I didn't really want to know what happened, I am at peace with my choices. The second half of that decade was ridding myself of all the drama. I walked away from everything and everybody that I felt took more than they gave to me. It was wonderful to be free of that garbage, but I still had to deal with the guilt of sometimes putting myself before others. Your whole childhood your taught to be nice, to accommodate everybody so no one feels left out, even though your spread so thin that you wonder if there is enough of you to go around? Its something you don't realize until its almost too late. "
I seemed to get through what I had to get through faster during therapy, I contribute that to having to not only telling my words once, but having to talk about it again (sessions) when I returned back home from each therapy session to spill my guts to my own Mother who was at my home taking care of my children, while I was keeping up with Doctor appointments and therapy sessions and even though she did not want to pressure me into telling her what I was going through, I think as a Mother she needed to know what happened to "HER BABY" So I would tell her what was discussed that day and with the same kind of unbelievable pain from whispering those same words earlier at the doctor, I would have to relive it again and most times when my husband would return from work, I would have to rehash through tears again. So it was like triple therapy sessions each day. It was during my therapy that DR E changed my diagnosis from severe depression to being manic-depression. She was able to show me how I lived most my life in a manic state......super woman....always the life of the party....able to get through any and every thing...I was now learning the depressant side to it..I was learning the small ways it had shown itself through out my earlier years but wasn't aware of it.
I remember the day my husband rushed home because of the frantic call from our 6 year old daughter, and he was beside himself because he could not console me, he could not take my pain and my tears and my guilt away. I was so afraid......I was afraid of loosing him because I went from this strong independent woman to this mess, (He still tells me I'm a mess but I'm a beautiful mess and I'm his) After lifting me up from the floor in the corner of my room and calling my Mother and my new family doctor he said to me as he held me and wiped away tear after tear of mine," I love you and I will do anything to get you well again, we will get through this....you will get through this."