I'll take diarrhea of the mouth with a side of insomnia for 200, Alex.

When I talked about getting my priorities straight and not feeling guilty if certain things (i.e. the blog) had to take a back burner, I really didn't think I'd go two weeks without writing at all. But, I did. And I survived. And so did you. And here we are again.

I haven't written much because - well, I'm tired. Seriously tired. As in dragging all day and feeling like I could take a nap at any given moment, and frankly - I haven't had the brain power to write anything that really makes sense.

So, instead, I've been reading a lot. Reading books by people who were, at one point, getting enough sleep to write interesting and entertaining things that actually made sense. (I'll be doing a post about some of the great books I've been reading at some point in the hopefully-not-too-distant future...)

I'm working with my doctor to get this sleep thing figured out so I can feel like a normal person again. For several weeks, I'd fall asleep with no problem at all, but I'd wake up pretty much every two hours on the dot. Can we say annoying? Ugh.

Then my doctor switched me to a different antidepressant (fondly known in this house as ABPs for any of you newbies out there) that didn't put such a huge dent in our budget that I had to wonder...hmmmm, do we buy mama's happy pills and wipe our butts with newspaper this month, or do we buy toilet paper and skip the pills?

Joking...

About the toilet paper thing, anyway. We've never really had the meds vs. toilet paper dilemma, but seriously, what I was on was crazy expensive, so we decided to give something else a try. Plus, I think Dennis and I would both agree that we'd take out a second mortgage on the house and give up the internet, TV and chocolate if it meant I could keep my ABPs.

Now, I was having the sleep trouble even before I started the new stuff, but now, instead of waking up every two hours, I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow at 10, but I wake up anywhere between 1 a.m. and 3 a.m. and never fall back asleep.

It's torture.

So, we're decreasing my meds for a week to find out if that change alone will improve my sleep while still managing my anxiety/depression. Oh, how I love the waiting game!

But, in the meantime, I have a prescription for what I hope is something wonderful - Ambien, my friends.

Unfortunately, though - I'm on call at work for the next two nights, so it's like someone is dangling a Kit Kat bar in front of my face and every time I think about having a bite, they snatch it away...I've got the prescription in my hot little hands, but I don't suppose driving into work at 2 a.m. to deal with a psych patient while I, myself, am under the influence of Ambien would be a fantastic idea. So, two more nights and then hopefully I'll get a solid 8 hours in a row thanks to yet another little pill that will hopefully contribute to my happiness.

So - on top of this whole I'm not frigging SLEEPING thing, Kaylee got sick last night.

Crappity, crap, crap.

Congestion, nasty cough, snot, crankybuttedness, the whole 9. And I freaked out. It drug up everything we went through when she was so sick and ended up in the hospital, when she got sick again just after being released from the hospital, facing doctors who didn't understand the severity of her recurrent illness, and eventually taking her in for emergency surgery. That whole thing began with a simple ear infection gone really, really bad, so you know there was a part of me that was wondering if it might happen again.

This is the first time she's been sick since her surgery, and I know kids are more prone to ear infections when they've got colds. So, I'm just praying it doesn't get worse.

In other news (hey, I go two weeks without writing - you can pretty much count on getting a smorgasbord of random thoughts that I've had bottled up for 14 days...), the whole cooking healthy meals with fresh ingredients thing is still going really well. I continue to try new recipes, and Dennis is patiently going along with it. I know it's gotta sound crazy, but I have found that I love the mindless monotony of chopping vegetables. Isn't that ridiculous? But I'm being serious! I get so excited when I've got an entire meal that's cooked and I realize that I chopped every little carrot and potato and bell pepper.

It's the little things, ya know?

Mama Kat occasionally does a feature on her blog called something to the effect of "What's for Dinner?" where she has pictures and/or video of the ingredients she uses and how to make a certain recipe.

I'm pretty seriously contemplating a food-themed week coming up soon here with some ideas for healthy yet delicious cooking based on some of the recipes we've tried and loved, and some of the ways we're saving money on the good stuff. And, of course I'll have a couple giveaways to go along with all of my sage advice. Ha ha ha.

And, that's probably enough for now. This is why I shouldn't go 2 weeks without posting - I get diarrhea of the mouth and can't shut up. So, if you're still reading, do what Kaylee does when she coughs, and pat yourself on the back. You deserve it.

Because those terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days of early motherhood eventually become a thing of the past, just like sleep and your sanity.

When Kaylee was 2 weeks old or 2 months old, or heck - even 6 months old...when I was knee deep in my, "Really? I thought I could do this? I actually thought I was cut out to be a mom? When will I ever sleep again? I will never be able to function as a normal adult again - EVER." days...

...I wish back then I'd had a video clip of the future - a video clip of tonight - to play for myself on those early days that were filled with so much frustration. Those days when I couldn't look at Dennis without snapping something mean back at him, even if he hadn't said anything.

Tonight - I sat back and watched as my baby played with my mom and my dad. I just sat there and took it all in and watched in amazement at where we are at in our lives now.

I just welled up with pride at the things she's doing - talking in these cute little toddler sentences, pushing her dolls all over the house in a cardboard box, telling them, "Ready? Set? GO!" and then "All done!" when she's tired, putting together puzzles and coloring and painting, and showing affection - actually asking for hugs and "noses" (Eskimo kisses).

My once helpless skinny mini baby who just gurgled, smiled, ate, farted and crapped her pants all day is turning into this tiny little person with an extremely strong personality who occasionally makes an angry face at me while yelling garbled words that I can only guess to be some form of toddler profanity invented by another baby genius somewhere else in the world who passed it on to toddlers everywhere. Maybe they learn these toddler swear words (i.e. "MamaYOWado-doYOWnabuggaYOW!") by playing their Elmo DVD's backwards or something when we're not looking. I have no idea.

Anyway - to get back to my point - a night like tonight would have been a light at the end of the tunnel for me during those first few months when I battled the worst part of my depression. Maybe if I'd been able to see what it would be like - what our life would turn into - maybe if I'd seen that someday I would get the sparkle back in my eyes and I would experience joy and pride and contentment, that I would be able to laugh again - maybe it would have been a little easier.

Maybe I would have actually believed that it really would get better.

But, I didn't have a snapshot of my future, and I still turned out okay. And so did my kiddo.

Because, as hard as that time was, it ended.

The really, really horrendously sleepless nights and constant crankiness and persistent funk ended.

And if that's where you're at, yours will end, too. You'll reach a day where you look back, and the hard times won't seem quite so harsh. And it will be because you're strong and you're going to make it through. Even though it seems like the struggles of life right after a baby will never get better, they can - and they will.

Eventually, you'll be able to sleep again, you'll be able to laugh and to feel like yourself. There are different ways of getting to that place, but if you're willing to do what you need to do to take care of yourself, you'll get there.

And once you do, you'll wake up the next morning to pick Ranch dressing out of your kid's hair from the night before, but only after you stub your toe on a spare Mr. Potato head ear, arm, or hat. Then you'll proceed to eat a breakfast consisting of either Cheerios that went soggy because your kid took a monster dump right after you poured the milk, or once-delectable-looking scrambled eggs that are now cold because there was a toddler breakdown when the extremely overplayed Barney DVD began to skip.

You will then walk to the bathroom, and you'll imagine how amazing a 25 minute shower would be. You'll skip the shower because - well, who are we kidding? Do you really need an excuse to skip a shower? (You're a mom now - put in a headband and a ponytail and call it good.) You'll count to 10 v-e-r-y slowly, and then you'll jump right back into the chaos.

Because you are someone's mom. And even though it may not seem like what you signed up for in the first place, in so many ways, it's turned out to be even better.

Improving myself, one fudge covered Ritz cracker at a time...

So, I'm on Day 2 of this new concept of lowering my expectations of myself and making realistic, achievable, non-crazy-lady goals for each day. Yesterday I planned out my whole week, and all the tasks that need to be done have their designated day.

I've gotta say that I'm likin' what's going on.

For the past two days, everything on my list has been done before lunch. And, even though Kaylee doesn't always nap, I still put her in her crib for 2 hours to rest - and to give myself a break. And I no longer feel bad about that.

So, I find myself scratching my head wondering what to do. Today I watched some TV, and I did a little extra picking up around the house.

Part of my mind instantly goes to the place where I feel that - hmmm...since I can accomplish these small tasks, I better add more to the list. I can do more. I can get more done. I can be more productive.

But the key is learning to be content with doing what's on my list, and to avoid putting further pressure on myself to go over and above that. Everything that needs to be done will get done at some point this week because every menial little thing has an assigned day. But it's so hard to get it through my head that I don't have to be constantly plowing through the to-do list all the live long day. It's such a weird concept.

To not be constantly busy and doing something is really, ridiculously difficult for me.

But, I'm enjoying the quiet and the stillness.

I'm enjoying the fact that I no longer feel like my anxiety-ridden heart is going to pound right out of my chest due to feeling utterly overwhelmed.

I'm enjoying the fact that I can count things like watching my favorite shows as a way of taking care of myself.

And, to change the subject, I would also like to share with you that I ate nearly an entire box of fudge covered Ritz crackers - today. Just today. They were that good.

And that's all for tonight.

Let's bust out the dayplanner and schedule time to watch Grey's Anatomy, shall we?

One of the things I did while I was on my recent blogging hiatus was to start talking to a counselor.

Last week we talked about what it is that triggers my anxiety and depression, and what I can do for myself to try and prevent things from getting overwhelming, and from getting to the point where I feel like I am just going to friggin' snap.

I'm going to tell you a bit about what I learned because I having a sinking suspicion that as women and/or mothers, we all struggle with this - at least to some degree.

Here's what I learned:

I put WAY too much pressure on myself. For everything. I seem to have this all or nothing attitude, and it's high time for me to knock that crap off.

I continue to struggle with mommy guilt. If I spend too much time getting stuff done, I feel guilty for not playing more with Kaylee. If I spend all my time playing with Kaylee, I feel guilty for not doing more around the house.

Guilt, guilt, guilt. It's gotta go. It's not going to be easy, as it seems to be a theme that is ingrained in my head, but I'm working on it...

My counselor had me list all the things that pile up and and stress me out, and then he drew a picture of a person with this big boulder on their shoulders, and he sectioned off the boulder into all the different roles and responsibilities I have.

Work. Housework. Meal planning. Budgeting. Chasing a toddler around all day. Paying bills. Scheduling our family. Being a wife. Being a mom. Having a social life. And on and on. I'm sure the list is very similar to what many of you would put on your lists.

After he was done drawing, he looked at me and said, "Well? Anything else? That's a lot of stuff right there. That's a lot of pressure."

I couldn't think of anything else, and he said, "Uh, what about self-care?"

Ahhhh, yes. That funny little thing called self-care. That concept I'd slowly grown to eliminate from my mind.

The board was filled up with all his little scribbles describing all my stresses and worries. And as soon as he put self-care up there, he erased everything else.

He said, "How about you just focus on one thing at a time?"

So, I'm slowly but surely working on eliminating this kind of thinking...

"But...I've got 5 loads of laundry and a sink full of dishes. I've got to get to the store because we've been out of milk for 3 days. But...I can't go to the store. I've gotta balance the checkbook and pay the bills. What? Is that a poopy diaper I smell? Ughhhh....Why can't I just get it together and do what needs to be done around here!?!?"

One thing that's been great for me about talking to a counselor is getting to the root of things. After just short while, he pointed out to me that I have an awful lot of "have to's and should's" in my vocabulary, and he said that I need to lower my expectations of myself.

WHAT? Are we both speaking English here? How can I lower my expectations when I can't even get done what needs to be done???? You are a crazy, crazy man!

But, he's right. He reminded me I need to be realistic.

Sure, there's a lot that needs to be done. But, is it really necessary to balance the checkbook 2 times a week? Do I really have to do 4 loads of laundry in one day? What's going to happen if I don't?

Nothing. Nothing is going to happen. The world will go on.

So, the game plan is that I schedule my week, and that I consciously make the choice to have time for ME.

As far as the scheduling things goes, rather than have a huge, looming list of things to be done hanging over my overwhelmed and frazzled little mind, I'm breaking it down.

I'll set a couple goals for the day. Today? Today I accomplished everything on my to-do list by 1 p.m.

Kaylee and I went to exercise class.
I called 2 places to make payments for Kaylee's mountain of medical bills.
I did a load of laundry.
I paid one bill online.
I spent time blogging.

My aim is to have one outing a day with Kaylee, whether it's to the store or to park - just something to get us both out of this house.

Next, I will choose one or two things to accomplish around here, but they will be small, realistic, reachable goals. No more page long lists of things to do in one day, only to reach the end of my day and feel that I accomplished nothing.

As far as the self-care aspect goes, I had to make an effort to schedule that as well. Dennis has karate Monday nights, so my parents agreed to watch Kaylee after work that day so I can have a night just for myself. I can go to the gym, go out with a friend, sit around in my pj's and watch TV all night - whatever I want - it's my night. And, I've designated the hour between 9 and 10 every night for reading, and then hitting the hay no later than 10 so that I get enough rest.

Now? Now I will go watch Grey's Anatomy because I haven't done anything JUST FOR ME today, and that whole self-care concept? Leaving it out of my day is just not an option any more, and I am not going to feel guilty anymore for taking care of myself.

I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow this house down.

This past week I've felt a bit like The Hulk when he starts to go from scrawny human to angry green monster.

It's made me feel a bit compelled to write about the aspect of depression that shows up as anger, because - frankly - I think that component is overlooked all too often.

Before I had actually experienced it for myself, I always associated depression with things like sadness, crying, having no energy, being down in the dumps, staying in bed all day - those types of things. I think those are the ideas that a lot of people in our society think of when we think depression.

But how often do we associate anger, and dare I even say it? RAGE with depression?

Because it is a symptom, but from my little corner of the world I never realized depression and anger went together until I experienced it for myself.

It doesn't fit the picture we all have in our minds.

I think one of the more common thoughts that probably comes into people's minds when they think of women with the baby blues, postpartum mood disorders, or just flat out depression is a picture of a woman who sits at home and cries all day.

Those of us who have been knee deep in depression or postpartum mood disorders know that's not how it is.

It's different for all of us. For some, maybe it does mean sitting at home crying all day. But, for me, and for several women that I have talked to in my own life, anger seems to be a pretty common theme, and if we're brave enough to admit it, we'll even tell you that the anger can turn to rage.

I'm talking about the feeling that your blood is actually boiling, you're on the verge of trembling and literally want to throw your TV set through your window kind of rage. You're mad, mad, MAD, and you can't talk yourself down from it. You don't think or act logically and you say things you regret.

You are 100% aware of what you are experiencing and how you are acting, but you have no power to change it.

Simply put - you are out of control.

It's amazing to me how we can put on our "I've got it all together faces," when really - we're falling apart and beating ourselves up over the fact that we are treating our families like dirt and have these emotions that seem unmanageable.

Now, I realize some people use a diagnosis to excuse their behavior, but that's not what I'm talking about here, and that's what makes it so difficult to grasp and to accept.

You act a certain way - you are mean, you are angry, and you want to stop. You hate what you see yourself doing, but it's happening anyway, and all you can do is wait for it to pass.

And in my case, wait and hope and pray and cross your fingers that the medication will kick in and do the same magic it did last time...

Ladies? If you've gone through this or are going through this - trust me. You're not alone. It happens, and there's help. You might feel crazy, but you're not, and you shouldn't have to feel like you need to just suck it up and move on. There's plenty of help out there that's yours for the taking, but you have to make the choice to accept it.

5 milligrams - down the hatch.

Tonight, I'm filled with cautious optimism.

We've been swimming around in some all-too-familiar water these days.

All of us know that when we're under a lot of stress, we don't exactly put our best foot forward.We have a shorter fuse, we're a bit more cranky and lot less willing to have a sense of humor about things.

For me, an overwhelming amount of stress can often mean that I lose much of my ability to cope in appropriate ways, so instead, I turn to things like yelling - real, actual yelling - at my loved ones, eating too much, being cranky and rude, and getting focused on being in a "funk."

That's been me lately. I definitely think I had some situational depression these past few weeks when Kaylee was so sick. You can only take so much of seeing your kid go from doctor appointment to doctor appointment, hospital to hospital, and being put on medication after medication, only for the same infections to remain for over a month.

Optimism and hope aren't so easy to come by.

Negativity, pessimism, and all-around crankybuttedness begin to dominate. You start to realize you're becoming someone you're not.

And for me, it made me realize that maybe I'm not as okay as I thought I was...

I was on anti-depressants for 6 months after being diagnosed with postpartum depression 3 months after I had Kaylee. The medication worked absolute wonders. At the 6 month mark, my doctor and I agreed that I could come off the meds because it appeared that my depression had been treated.

Since then, I've questioned whether or not that was really the case, and when I went to see my OB in June I told her I felt like my depression was coming back. The thing was, feelings of depression and changes in mood were a possible side effect of my birth control, so we decided to switch to something else to pinpoint what the precise cause was. She wanted me to give it a month and see how I felt.

After that time passed, Dennis and I noticed a huge difference, so we pretty much wrote off any depression, even though - from time to time - we'd see a symptom emerge here and there. I think we chose to ignore it for the most part because it really was a drastic change from where I had been before.

About the same time I talked to my OB, I talked to my new primary care doctor who said that, based on my symptoms, she thought that what I was describing sounded a lot more like anxiety than depression, and I agreed with her, although I was still having symptoms of both.

She recommended some lifestyle changes before getting back on any medication, so I implemented her ideas, and I continued to sail along with minor symptoms here and there, but they were small enough to write off as day-to-day crankiness - pretty minor stuff, it seemed.

But, one thing Dennis and I finally concluded a couple nights ago was that lifestyle does make a difference (eating healthy, exercising, getting outside, getting good sleep, etc.), but in my case, it seems that, since I had Kaylee, there's always been something underlying, whether it's irritability or anger, or a panic attack waiting to happen. Up until more recently, it was pretty much under the radar and tolerable. But, really stressful situations just seemed exacerbate the symptoms and show us the scarier side of what has really seemed to be there all along.

When I shared my story on postpartum depression, I wrote about how I reached a point where I'd forgotten what it felt like to be myself, and I'm bummed to say it, but that's where I'm at again.

Lately, it's just been crazy amounts of anger and irritability. Anger over the stupidest little things, and I told Dennis it frickin' sucks that I can't just get through a day without getting really mad about something. That is not. ME. At all. But, it's how I've been acting, so something needs to change.

And now, I finally realize it won't be a 6-month trial of the meds. I was on them before. They worked. Life was good. And now things are starting go to crap again. I've come to accept that things went a little haywire with my brain chemistry after Kaylee was born, and I'm not sure they'll be going to back to normal. Possibly ever. I've talked with several other moms (many fellow bloggers) who feel this same way.

So, I'm not ashamed to admit it. I'm a bit whacked out, and I can unwhack what's whacked.

I need my trusty little pill to help me, and that's okay.

It's okay because I've been here before, and I know it doesn't have to be this way. I know that my life can get back to the way it was, and I will feel like myself again.

There is help, and I'm going to accept it. And if I still don't feel back to me with the medication alone, I'm going to find a counselor to talk to because my family and I deserve for me to be happy and healthy.

So tonight, I've got 5 milligrams down the hatch, and I'm more relieved than I can even describe, just knowing that it won't be long and I'll remember what it feels like to be me again.

It's just what I need.

We all have days (weeks, months...) when we just don't feel right.

The older I get, I'm trying harder to realize exactly what it is that keeps me ticking and keeps me healthy. When my life starts to feel off kilter, I've gotta take a step back, look at things, and try to figure out where I went wrong, because when one area is off, it seems to have a domino effect on all the other areas of my life.

A couple months ago, things started going downhill again. I was feeling depressed. I had quit exercising - period. I was eating whatever and however much I wanted, and I wasn't getting outside much. I wasn't blogging like I wanted to. I quit reading for a while.

And all the while, I was so blind to it. It was like my eyes were just fuzzy over the whole thing, and I think I blamed it on being busy or something trivial like that.

So, I've made some changes in the past weeks, and things are starting to feel normal again. I spoke with the doctor who treated me for postpartum depression about how I was feeling(jury's still out on whether some of my recent symptoms were depression or a side effect from birth control - hopefully I'll have an answer on that soon), and tweaked a few other parts of my lifestyle.

So, in no particular order, these are the things I've realized are oh-so-helpful in making my life feel well-rounded and somewhat normal. Well, normal for me anyway.

1. Time alone. And, I'm not just talking about time alone on the toilet without being bothered (although that would be lovely). I'm talking about time just for me - whether it's walking around Target (window shopping or "window" shopping - *wink, wink*), having the whole house to myself for a couple hours, or going to a restaurant by myself for lunch. I've always needed my alone time, and now that I'm a mom, I need it more than ever. When I don't get it, I am not a happy camper.

2. Exercise. I've always loved being active, from taking gymnastics and ballet as a little munchkin, to playing volleyball in middle school, to developing a love for step aerobics in high school and kickboxing in college, I've always loved being active. Let's not forget to throw in outdoor stuff like hiking, either. I've been consistently exercising for a little over a month now, and I'm working out 6-7 days a week, for about an hour at a time. It's a guaranteed hour every day where I don't have to think about anything else, and I get to blow off steam, and make my body healthier (and buffer, and leaner, and meaner). It's something I've always loved, but now it's an absolutely necessary part of who I am and what I need to do to feel healthy.

3. Healthy foods, appropriate portions, and a few treats here and there. I've gotten great results with Weight Watchers in the past (once before Kaylee - stopped that time as soon as I found out I was pregnant, and once after Kaylee), but after the last time, I decided to discontinue the online program, thinking I could save money and that I was disciplined enough to choose healthy foods and portions on my own. Not so much...I got off track a few times, and I found myself signing up for the program yet again. Right now, I've got a goal to lose a few more pounds. I was sick of my cute pants not fitting, and I was sick of wearing baggy tops to hide the muffin top. This time, my main goal is to get back on track with healthy portions, and I'm planning to stay on the program for quite a while, just to give me the guidance I need to keep making the right food choices.

4. Time alone with Kaylee, and time alone with Dennis. It's so easy for me to get wrapped up in being "busy," but living like that detracts from the most important things. Then, a week goes by and realize I was more concerned about a messy house than just simply having fun. If I get regular alone time with Kaylee and with Dennis, I'm so much happier. They help me slow down and remember what's important, and what's really not so important in the grand scheme of things.

5. Being outside. I remember days when I was home alone with Kaylee when she was a newborn. I'd start to feel all cooped up and anxious and cranky, and then I'd realize I hadn't set foot outside in a couple (or a few) days - not even past the front porch. Not okay, people, NOT okay! I need to be outside every day. Preferably for a longer period of time than it takes me to walk to my mailbox, but even that will do if I'm desperate.

6. My friends and family. They let me vent. They don't judge me. They let me be myself, and they listen when I feel like I'm falling apart. No matter what, they don't go anywhere.

7. A job. I may whine about it from time to time (hey, who doesn't?), but I love my job, and I love that it gives me scheduled time to be around other adults in a professional setting. It lets me use another part of my brain, and it makes me appreciate my time at home with my daughter even more. Plus, it gives her a break from me, which I think is also really important.

8. Prayer. To be honest with you, I know if this was a more regular part of day-to-day life, things would go a lot smoother. Things seem to go better, or - at least - I seem to handle them better when I start my day off with a prayer, and throw a few up throughout the day, too. It's something I'm always working on.

9. Reading for fun. For my whole life, this has been one of my very, very favorite hobbies, and as an adult, it's one way I deal with stress, by escaping into the pages of a book. When I don't have a book that I'm reading, chances are, there's probably another area of my life starting to crumble.

10. The blog. Writing has always been another one of my passions, and I really wish I'd discovered blogging a long time ago. I hate it when I have those spurts where I go a few days without blogging. Writing on a regular basis really helps me deal with stuff. It just feels good to get my thoughts out of my head, and on to my blog. It's therapeutic, and fun, and it's another hobby that brings me enjoyment.

So...what about YOU? What makes you tick? What is it that you just have to have in your life in order to feel like you have balance? Leave me a comment about it!

Getting back on track.

Man, it's been quite a week.

Kaylee started walking full speed ahead. Along with this walking, she's decided to declare herself Spiderbaby and has been attempting to climb walls...














... and anything and everything else. The ottoman, the dining room chairs, the stereo (yes, I said the stereo) It's like all these crazy neurons are just firing in her pretty little head all at one time.

Dennis and I are just plugging along and looking ahead to next Monday. If you recall last Monday I went to see my doctor and told her that I feel like the depression is coming back. She switched my birth control and wanted me to wait a month to see if the previous birth control was the culprit of the crankiness.

After last week, I practically had to hide the phone to keep from calling her to ask for anti-depressants. Irritability through the roof, crying, anxiety - the whole gamut. It was the worst week in a really, really long time in terms of symptoms, and I realized there's no way in heck I'm waiting a month to call her if this doesn't clear up.

I'm not trying to be pessimistic, just realistic, but I think this is the real deal. I'm coming to accept the fact that it seems my brain chemistry is just whacked ever since I had Kaylee, and I'm finally ready to acknowledge that it's more than just the postpartum depression. It's more than likely a depression that will need to be treated for years to come, and that's okay. Because this right here is no way to live. If there's relief out there, you bet your booty I'm going to jump all over it.

Dennis and I talked, and I'm continuing to track all my symptoms for one more week. Last week I had 2 out of 7 days where I felt like myself and wasn't on the verge of creating World War III within the walls of my own home. I don't think the doctor - or me, for that matter - thought things would continue at this rate. Otherwise, I doubt she'd have asked me to wait a whole month to call her.

So, July 13 is the magic day. My 2 week trial period will be up, and me, along with my trusty symptom tracking notebook will be calling her and doing something to get back on track. It makes me feel better knowing that help is just around the corner. I just want to stick it out for the two weeks to say we tried, and so that we can completely rule out that it was the birth control.

Speaking of getting back on track, some other things are changing around here, too...

I've been so proud of the fact that I haven't weighed myself for such a long time. It's really helped me to not obsess over body image issues and to feel better about myself. But, at the time when I tossed the scale, I was taking good care of myself.

Lately? Not so much.

I don't think it's a coincidence that during this last month when I started to notice symptoms of depression creeping back in, I slowly backed away from the exercise - not exercising for a full month, and eating whatever I wanted - mostly sweets and carbs - total comfort food. My pants are all too tight. I have one pair of jeans that are comfortable. I feel uncomfortable and self-conscious in the majority of my clothes.

That's how I know it's time to make some changes. Well, that and the fact that I peeked at the scale when the nurse weighed me before my appointment last week. I'm just a few pounds away from my heaviest (non-pregnant) weight ever which is not a healthy weight for my height and body type.

So, I've reinstituted a temporary relationship with my scale again. I have a strict rule to only weigh in ONCE per week until I meet my goal weight. I'm not trying to get hung up on numbers, but since things have gotten out of hand, I'm giving myself a tangible goal to work toward. I've joined a fitness challenge with some friends, and I'm feeling motivated.

I also started working out again, and ordered some Jillian Michaels workout DVDs with a gift certificate I had. I bought and prepared some fresh produce for snacks, and I'm packing my lunches for work again. Because it really is about eating right and keeping this body of mine on the move.

So, I'm not beating myself up about anything. I'm just looking forward to improving myself - my body, my noggin, the whole thing.

It won't be long and things will turn around for the better.

I just needed to get back on track.

Two steps forward. One step back. Wait, make that three steps back.

I thought I made it through just fine, but now I'm not so sure.

In January, with the support of my obstetrician, I stopped taking antidepressants for postpartum depression. I was feeling good, and things seemed fine for a few months. I thought I weathered the storm, came out a stronger woman, and things were looking up.

I did come out a stronger woman - I learned a lot about myself, and things were looking up. But now, I've hit a rough patch, and although I fully believe that things are going to get better, it doesn't make it any easier for the time being.

The past month things have started to get bumpy again. I've been hesitant to write about it as I've been trying to make some sense of it myself. I've been getting cranky again. And this time, there's been bouts of anxiety and depression - not just irritability, but the "I don't know why I'm crying and I can't stop" kind of depression.

It's been bothering me a lot. Poor Dennis is having to deal with me being all mean and cranky - A LOT, and - I feel like I'm back in that same boat I was months ago. I've forgotten what it feels like to be me. I've forgotten what it feels like to make it through a whole day without getting really mad about something or without getting all worked up and overreacting to some little thing that's really nothing at all. Don't get me wrong - I have my good days, but the bad days are starting to be more frequent.

I miss being able to go through a day and just have fun and enjoy it. I'm not feeling like me, and that's not okay.

Today I met with my doctor, and I told her what's been going on. There's a possibility that the birth control I was on is contributing to this, but there was no surefire way to determine the culprit while I was still on it.

So, I've stopped that particular method and I'll be starting a new one. My doctor wants me to give it some time (one month) to see if the birth control was the issue. If I'm still Spongebob Crankypants, one phone call is all it will take, and I can go back on the Lexapro. I've already decided that if it continues to be bad, I'll call her before the month is up, and I'm sure she won't have an issue with getting me back on the meds.

To be honest with you, one thing that really bugs me is the fact that I did well for months without the medication, and now I may need it again. I'm not sure why - I'm a big fan of the medication, and it worked wonders for me. I think it's just part of that whole idea that I tell myself I've got to have it all together (even though I know that's absolutely ridiculous). I feel like I failed. And I hate failing - shoot, who likes it?

I know it's nothing I did or didn't do. I am not choosing to be depressed. Try as I might, I can't shake it, but I never understood that until I actually suffered from it myself.

Before, it was like, "Depressed? Get outside, change your attitude, open the windows, quit wallowing in self-pity, snap out of it." Seriously. You can't. You simply cannot.

I know it will get better. It got better last time, and it will get better again. I know it will.