Dear Cymbalta Maker People,
I should be your new spokesperson. Seriously.
It’s been 3 weeks since we.. er… met. I cannot even believe how much has changed since then.
It’s almost impossible to imagine that just three short weeks ago I was fantasizing about how long I could stay under water in a desperate attempt to escape. This time last month I was spending most of my time curled up in my room, trying to sleep away the world that loomed on the other side of the bedroom door.
Within 48 hours of taking that first pill, I noticed a change. The fog lifted and the weight I had been carrying around for so long disappeared. I was nervous at first, wondering how long this would last and when the next meltdown would come.
But as the days, and then weeks, went by – the meltdown didn’t come. And the energy I don’t even remember having returned. And where despair once haunted me, I found instead… peace. Balance. Perspective.
I still cry. I still laugh. I still get mad at my husband. I’m still worried about how my kids will “turn out”.
But now I can see those emotions with a certain amount of perspective that I didn’t have before. The emotions are not overwhelming and irrational. For the first time in a long time, I’m in control.
My laundry room is clean.
My kitchen cabinets are rearranged.
My hall closet is cleaned and organized.
My laundry is done.
My front living room is painted (well, OK, one coat down, one to go. But trust me, that’s progress.)
I have spent two Saturdays alone with my kids all day – and not lost my mind.
I made “the big breakfast” that I “never make anymore”.
I cooked Sunday dinner (while painting, mind you) that included both a ham AND a side casserole.
I’ve given baths and read stories and gotten hair cuts and helped put toys away… all without feeling like I was trying to hold back the avalanche with a pencil. Alone.
My husband has remarked numerous times that he’s considering having me “checked” to see if I’m “on something”. I keep reminding him I am on something. (Speaking of which, do you make something for husbands? Like an anti-retard, try to use your other head from time to time pill?)
ANYway Cymbalta maker people, thank you.
I think I’m getting my life back. I think, maybe, I’m getting me back. And I kind of like this me.
P.S. Seriously, the spokesperson thing – you should think about it. Maybe we can work something out like… say… free pills? Because oh mah shit – the price of happiness these days is steep!