I’ve found myself emotionally exhausted lately. Mostly the last week. I primarily assumed it was because I’ve been at the ready being Nurse Michelle for The Mr. since he returned home from having gastric bypass surgery. There were several nights that I was up at least twice helping him to the bathroom or changing a bandage. I slept lightly those nights. And when he said he needed me, I was right there.

I tended to his needs during the day, too. Happily. But trying to take care of an adult, three children and yourself can be emotionally taxing. And me without sleep just is no good. And then there’s the part that’s like a blood sugar crash: you are so “on” for so long that a crash is inevitable.

But as I lay curled up on my bed sobbing, I realized this had more to do with my prescription for anti-depressants than anything else. When we lived in Missouri, Harry never questioned my need for anti-depressants and just continued to renew the prescription without requiring me to come see him. Now that we’re in Phoenix, my new primary care physician said she’d write me a prescription for six months, but wanted to reevaluate after that. 

When I renewed at the end of January I had mostly forgotten about that. And by the time I got to the pharmacy to pick the prescription up, I had only three days of my prescription left and the doctor hadn’t renewed it. Thanks to the pharmacy and the doctor’s office for calling to let me know that it hadn’t been renewed. *very sarcastic eyeroll*

A flurry of phone calls to the doctor’s office the next day saying, “I only have three days left and this isn’t the kind of medicine you can quit cold turkey” finally found me with a 30-day supply of happy pills and a requirement to see the doctor before she’d renew more.

Then life got in the way. In the midst of a changed schedule and being horribly tired from the stress of having The Mr. in the hospital, I was unable to actually get to the pharmacy to pick the prescription up when I needed it. I missed three days of my anti-depressant.

It has happened before and it always catches up to me. I’ll have a day or two lull where I can tell that my body is dealing with decreased medication. I don’t know that it has ever hit me the way it hit me this last time. Although, I can’t remember a time when I skipped so many days.

Yesterday was rock bottom, I think. I can already feel myself feeling better. I laughed at No. 3 this morning who showed me her new dance move, sang along with the radio on the way to work, and felt lively enough to chat with friends at work without bursting into tears.

And bonus: I don’t feel like curling up on my bed and going to sleep for three days when I get home today.