I have been pondering why I have not felt the urge to write like I used to.

Writing on this blog was always such a joy; a creative release for my mind to share experiences and insights with any and all who would read. But over the last few years, I have been less inclined to share and write. My coach and I were discussing this and I think I figured it out. 

Postpartum Depression. 

This is not something I know much about beyond my own personal experience with it. After I had my daughter, Minnie Etta, I wasn’t the same. Sadness, overwhelm, despair, and not feeling my usual levels of joy are just a few things that I felt after she was born. The love I felt for her and my son is deep and persevering. Nothing could dampen that. But my core essence was dampened. My sparkle was dimmed.

After being in denial and trying to deal with it on my own for 4 or 5 months, I messaged my doctor. He came into the office on a Saturday. We chatted and determined that yes, I needed medication to help me get out of this depression. 

I started Bupropion. 

It was hard for me to do this. I don’t like taking pharmaceuticals. I will alter my diet and take supplements before resorting to those. I tried making these types of adjustments to my lifestyle to help with my postpartum depression for months. They did not help. Which is why taking these meds was such a big step for me. I might even say I was brave for doing it. 

When I started taking Bupropion, I called a friend and asked her what it was like. She described it has leveling you out. Not only do your lows feel less low, but your highs feel less high. AKA your moods chill out on all ends. The thought of that made me uncomfortable. I had once been medicated for ADHD. I only did that for a month because I felt it clouded my emotions. I swore I would never do that to my mind again. 

As I started taking bupropion for my postpartum depression, I realized I could manage my depression better. It was such a relief! I could finally get through the day without crying, my sadness was alleviated, I was able to show up for my husband and kids. I started to feel better. It wasn’t until now, today, that I realized that it really did mute my happiness. 

I recognize that now.

Which is why it is hard to admit this and to reconcile it. Even now as I type, I feel grief welling up inside me. I did not fully understand that taking the medication would rob me of the good things this much. 

Please don’t take this to mean that I regret the medication. The meds saved me. They helped me function and show up for my family in a way that I was incapable of before when I was always crying and in despair. I am so grateful for the meds and the role they played in keeping me functional and present. 

But all good things come to an end and I feel it is time for me to come off the meds so I can feel more like myself again. I yearn to feel my enthusiasm at full throttle and my joy as well as my sadness. I want the full spectrum.

 It is a scary to come off the meds.

I am afraid that I will fall right back into that hole that I had to pull myself out of with the help of my husband, family, friends, church, community, and meds. At least now I know I have people around me who can help me if I were to fall again. This thought brings me HOPE.

Hope. 

Hope that I can get off my meds and feel like me again. 

Hope that I can return to my normal after so much that happened last year. 

Hope that I can show up for myself, my husband, my kids, my friends, and my community. 

Hope is powerful. It is a beautiful and infinite resource we can all tap into if we make that choice. 

I am hoping that as I take the time and proper steps to get off these meds that I can find my creativity and motivation to write here again because you, my readers, have been so amazing in the past. I have enjoyed your feedback and support. And now that I have gone through all of this, I have so much more I can share. So much more perspective and inspiration.

I am choosing to tap into Hope! 

Wish me luck (and hope)!