PPD. SPD. SAnD. BS1&2. MDD. ADD. IDGAF!
Those are just some of the diagnoses I’ve been slapped with. One of them has stuck so far. (Sensory processing disorder, for the record. Post-partum depression, also, which is complicating things. Oh, and I Don’t Give a Fuck is a pretty consistent one, too, but that can’t really be medicated.)
As I expected, the new meds I was prescribed 3 weeks ago didn’t work. And when I say didn’t work, I mean it: they did absolutely nothing. I kept waiting for something to feel different but nothing ever really did. Anyway, I don’t really want to get into it. I’m trying something new (again, joy!) and here’s to hoping it’ll work. I’m not optimistic.
I keep wondering if Arya’s going to inherit any of this. It petrifies me to think that someday she might have to go through this bullshit too. It’s enough to make me question even having kids – and then the weight of that thought hits me and I regret ever thinking it at all. I don’t know where I’d be without her. (And if she DOES have to go through the same thing, I’ll be there for her every step of the way. Always.)
Blegh. I just want to feel normal again.