God Knows We’re Lost

It’s coming up on two years since Magoo was born and I still struggle with anxiety and depression issues originally triggered by his birth. My brain hurts from thinking about my brain. I’m tired of wondering what constitutes chemical deficiency and what is just normal for a stay-home mother of 2.

I go off medications. I struggle. I get back on a dose so small I could swear it was a placebo amount and suddenly the people around me are a little less annoying, I’m slightly more likely to do the dishes and less likely to wake up in a panic with no idea why.

When things were really bad at the beginning, I came to a point where I said I would be willing to do whatever was medically necessary to function and take care of my family, to alter my brain back to the way it was before the crash. I said I would take medication for the rest of my life if necessary. Now that the post-partum period is almost up, I want to be DONE with brain meds. I want my old brain back. It wasn’t always sharp and sometimes it was a tad twisted, but I could trust it.

I recently told my therapist that I didn’t want to go on anything at this point because that would mean I was “depressed”. She asked the logical question, “Do you think taking medication will make you depressed?”

“No,” I bawled, “It will make me NOT depressed.”

There you have it. And what’s so bad about that? The dependence, the fallibility, the HUMANITY, the admission that yet again God doesn’t chose to heal me instantly but provides a humbling way for me to be healed by relying on other people and medical advancements.

The other day Laylee and I were on the way to the therapist’s office and I got lost in a construction detour. I said a few faux naughty words and Laylee asked what was wrong. When I told her we were lost, she said calmly, “It’s okay. God knows we’re lost. We’ll find it.”

I believe he knows I’m lost. I believe he cares I’m lost. I believe he will help me untangle my steaming pile of grey matter. I’m not at a point yet where I always understand his methods or even pretend to know what they are.

For the next 2 weeks I’m going to do everything I physically can to stave off the next round of brain science. The sleeping. The exercising. The meditation. The prayer. The water. The breathing. Then we’ll see. We’ll try and then we’ll see.