Because she couldn’t say it on the phone.

I don’t know if y’all know who Dooce is, but her real name is Heather Armstrong and she writes a blog called dooce.  Anyway, I enjoy her blog very much.  She writes about a variety of things, parenting, life, marriage, etc.  What I find refreshing is her honesty and her dry humor.  Brutal honesty, ok?  Like–she doesn’t give a crap about what you think; she’s going to tell you the truth–kind of honesty.  Which a lot of people find very offensive, but I find very cool.  I wish that I could be more like that sometimes.

Some of you might know I suffer from anxiety disorder and depression.  The key word there is suffer.  Cause let me tell you, it sucks on both counts.  Yes, my life has been worse (MUCH worse).  Yes, it COULD be worse, no doubt.  Yes, other people have it a lot worse in life than I do.  I realize those things, and I try to keep them in perspective.  But the bottom line is that these 2 things, for me, are very hard to control and it’s been a constant battle for a lot of years now.  I have recently been off my antidepressant and trying to live my life normally like I did before the depression took over my life, and it’s been hard.  I don’t want to live the rest of my life on a pill that I have to take to be able to get out of bed in the morning or not cry every. single. day.  But lately I’m beginning to think that it’s what I need to do.  And after reading what Dooce wrote, it was like a light bulb went off in my head.  It shouldn’t matter to me if my dad thinks I should be able to handle this crap on my own, that I should be able to overcome it with my mind.  It shouldn’t matter if my friends think there’s something wrong with me if I’m depressed; after all, what do I have to be depressed about, right?  It shouldn’t matter to me that my husband thinks I’m just a lazy ass because I don’t have the energy or motivation to clean the house (which he constantly criticizes me about).  I have a child, and I want to spend time with her feeling GOOD.  I don’t want to be too tired to play a game or read a book or whatever she wants to do.  She will only be a child ONCE.  And I bet if I asked my daughter which Mama she prefers, the one taking the antidepressant or the one not taking the antidepressant, she’d scream “TAKE THE DRUG!”  And what SHE thinks, because she is my LIFE, is the only thing that matters to me. 

Anyway, I recently read a blog entry written by Dooce, and maybe because I am at this particular point in my life, it spoke to me.  And if you’re suffering from depression or you know someone who is, maybe it will speak to YOU.  Go here http://www.dooce.com/2007/12/13/because-i-couldnt-say-it-phone.

Heather, thank you for your honesty.