Loathe

My happiness depends on these goddamn pills.

When I feel a surge of excitement for anything -- from a freshly cleaned kitchen to an upcoming vacation, I give credit to that little white pill that I dare not forget before I leave in the morning. When I'm inspired to write, or sing in the car, or marvel at a sunset, those fucking pills get the credit.

Why can't my own brain chemicals provide me with zest for life like I used to have?

My high school girlfriends are planning a weekend at a beach cabin. Will I be the same carefree, silly girl they knew 20 years ago? I recall a memory from years ago, it must have been our senior year because we were having a late night (or early morning?) giggle fest at Denny's. I was making them laugh with my antics - did I stand on the table for some reason? I don't remember. But I do remember being a confident, fun young woman that didn't need anything to help me enjoy life. (I didn't even drink my first beer until I was in college.)

Will my precious, vibrant daughters slowly grow despondent, eventually succumb to depression and need a pharmaceutical crutch when they turn 33 - same as my mom and me?

Swallowing that first pill felt like failure to me, even though I knew I needed it. I knew that without it, I would continue to struggle with anger (towards my children) on a daily basis, and that I wouldn't be able to cherish the sweet lives blossoming in front of me.

I've told many friends that my reluctance to accept anti-depressants into my world was washed away with the fear that my daughters' earliest memories would be of an angry mother, instead of one that hugged and kissed them at every chance, that was forgiving over spilled milk (ok, not always) and that exhibited calm and strength during life's challenges - big or small.

I need to look at medication as a tool that helps me maneuver through the trials and tribulations of modern life.

But I can't help it.

Today it occurred to me that my husband and I will celebrate our 10 year anniversary this year - 5 years after getting pregnant. Was I different - more fun, witty, dynamic, interesting - during the first 5 years of our marriage?

I'm afraid to ask him.

Both of us were changed when we saw 2 tiny heads on the ultrasound screen. The introduction of 2 babies into our household challenged our mental state as well as our marriage. It makes me sad to realize that, in the time that he has known me, I have been depressed (or fighting depression) for almost half of it...

But with every hurdle we overcome in our lives, we learn and we grow. Just like a child remembers never to touch a hot stove after doing it the first time. As adults, our lessons are more complicated and often  more heart wrenching, but the results can also be more powerful.

 Happiness comes to them naturally...

(Mammoth Falls - Yellowstone)