No, seriously, I do.
I keep complaining ad naseum about how I'm still depressed over our Dec IVF failure, and how I'm not excited about our Feb FET, and how the world is grey and I have no motivation and blah blah blah. I know I'm depressed right now. And I know I'm not really doing anything to help the situation, other than sitting here and riding it out. In the years that I've been off the meds (nothing makes you sound like a wack-job quite like saying you're "off your meds"), that's been my main course of action. I have highs, I have lows. The lows suck donkey balls, but they never really last more than a week or so.
I think I've hit my four week mark.
That's too long to "ride it out."
I came to this conclusion over the weekend. Two things really kicked it in the ass for me.
1. Dr Boy went snowboarding and was gone for two days. I had a three-day weekend, and left the house once. Literally. When I let poor Hannah out to potty, I didn't even step outside. I owe her for being such a trooper.
2. I started wondering whether we should even bother with the FET. Clearly I wasn't able to take care of myself or the household, so how in the hell would I take care of a kid? And (in my mind at the time) it probably wouldn't work anyways so why bother with the fuss of it all.
Screeching halt. I was questioning whether or not the mom thing was something I even wanted anymore?
That couldn't be me talking. That had to be the depression. There are a lot of things that I've been questioning lately, and I can't sort out which ones are me and which are the depression. I know the lupron I've been on for over a week now is probably exacerbating things, as is the fact that it's CD2, but still. This isn't me.
So I called up the IVF nurses and asked for a therapist recommendation. They left a message with one to contact me, and unfortunately, I'm still waiting. A day and a half later. But I reached out, and the appt will get made, and I'll have a chance to talk these things out with someone that is equipped to deal with this.
Because I'm tired of whining. And having no motivation to do anything other than sit on the couch. Unshowered. In my pajamas. For three days. (ok i showered once in those three days, i'm not completely gross. and i changed my sheets after, if it makes you feel better.) I'm tired of not doing ANYTHING productive at work. I'm tired of gaining weight form inactivity and emotional eating. I'm tired of not calling up friends to interact. I'm tired of not being excited about anything any more.
But mostly, I'm tired of having no energy to put towards hope. I can't go into our FET this way. And I can't expect it to magically happen on its own.
Why can't I just be chemically balanced? Sigh.
(and don't even get me started on how terrified i am of depression during the pregnancy and post-partum. effing terrified.)