Our almost 3000 mile drive to Atlanta with 2 dogs wasn’t as bad as we anticipated it would be.  We almost died once, but other than that it was smooth sailing.  Upon arriving in Atlanta the biggest snowstorm in recent history struck.  Under normal circumstances this would have been fun and exciting for me.  We had an air mattress (thankfully) and a couple of blankets to sustain us in our rental house for a WEEK!  We were snowed into the house and our POD was stranded due to the storm.  I should have known that this was an omen of bad things to come.

Unfortunately things only went downhill from this point.  My depression was increasing and this was creating a huge strain in our marriage.  Tareak was stressed with his new job and was gone 15+ hours/day.  He felt bad leaving me home, without a car, in my depressed state, but there weren’t many options available to us.  We realized that unlike a lot of couples, we get along best when we spend every waking hour together.  We were spending about 1/2 hr together each day and somehow managed to argue more than we had during our entire marriage combined.  For the first time we were seriously considering separation.

To make a really long story short, we left Atlanta after being there 2 months and got back in the car and drove 3000 miles back to Washington state.  Some would say we didn’t give Atlanta a chance.  Some would say we shouldn’t have gone in the first place.  We did the only thing we could do to save our marriage.  The moral of the story, “DO NOT MOVE ACROSS THE COUNTRY WITH A DEPRESSED SPOUSE IF YOU DON’T HAVE A SOLID SUPPORT SYSTEM IN PLACE”.  Moving is stressful for anyone, but for someone who suffers from depression it can be a breaking point.

Looking back (isn’t hindsight great?), I think we could have made the big move work with a few minor changes.
1- Put a support system into place before you even move.  Your spouse will be your #1 support person, and they need to understand and accept this.  It is easy to tell yourself, “I’ll be fine.”  I was excited about the move and so I didn’t think I had anything to worry about.  I needed human interaction.  I was depressed; I wasn’t going to go and try to make friends with the neighbors.  I didn’t even want to answer my phone.  Ask friends and family to call and check up on you on a regular basis.  Then have your spouse follow up with them to make sure the phone calls are happening.  While I might not have wanted to answer the phone once I went into a depressed state, I would have felt obligated because I was the one that asked for help in the first place.
2- Get settled before starting the new job.  Because Tareak was working such long hours, we didn’t have time to do much of anything.  In an ideal world I could have set up utilities, etc… while he was at work, but my anxiety (especially about phone calls) made me pretty much useless.  Unpack the basic necessities.  Set up your bank account.  Set up all your utilities.  Change your vehicle registration.  Buy a second car.  Get new drivers licenses.  Learn how to get to the grocery store.   The list goes on and on, but you get the idea.  None of these things were taken care of before Tareak started work and that created a lot of unnecessary stress and tension in our home.
3- Meet the locals.  For someone with social anxiety this suggestion is laughable.  I’m about as friendly and outgoing as a rock.  I do however attend church weekly.  This was extremely uncomfortable to do in a new environment surrounded by new people, but I made myself go.  Did I talk to anyone at church?  Not if I could help it.  I did the best I could to sneak in and out without ever actually having to speak.  We attended church about 1/2 dozen times in Atlanta and I will admit that near the end it wasn’t quite as scary and faces starting becoming familiar.  In time I think I could have been more comfortable and maybe even made a friend.
4- Make sure you are both seeing and understanding the whole situation.  The long hours Tareak was working came as a surprise to both of us.  Had I known that he would be working such long hours I could have perhaps prepared myself better mentally.  Because we weren’t spending a lot of time together, Tareak had no idea why he would come home to a depressed wife every day.  He took my mental state personally and felt responsible for “fixing” me.  It took a while for him to realize that the highlight of my day was when he got home from work and couldn’t understand why I’d get upset when he just wanted to sit in front of the TV and unwind.  It took me a while to understand that he had been gone for 15 hours and to expect a happy peppy husband who was ready to conquer the huge list of “to-dos” wasn’t realistic.

Could we have made things work in Atlanta?  I guess we’ll never know.  In order to move back to Washington Tareak had to resign from his job and we are now living on our savings.  But you know what?  We have never been happier.  I love having my best friend and support system around 24/7, and he is finally making the time to explore his entrepreneurial dreams and talents.  Life is good…Finally.

I started taking Paxil just before I turned 19 years old.  The main reasons I started taking it was to help with my social anxiety, OCD, and also in hopes that it would help my trichotillomania (which it didn’t).  The doctor explained to me that since I was still young, the Paxil could help train my brain to think and process in a new way.  The hope was that after a few years I would be able to stop taking Paxil and my brain would have re-wired itself in such a way that I would no longer need it.  I tried a couple times to lower my dosage and wean off of Paxil, but each time I recognized the need my brain had for the drug.  It helped, and still helps control my obsessive thoughts.  I am now able to find the “Pause” button on my brain and allow myself to just stop obsessing about things.  Pre-Paxil, this wasn’t possible.  It also helps me think more rationally when I get anxious.  I accept that I may never be able to stop using Paxil and that is okay with me.

I have now been taking Wellbutrin for 2 months.  I am officially addicted to this drug and I love it!  A day hasn’t passed that I didn’t accomplish something that I could have never accomplished pre-Wellbutrin.  Earlier this week I slept late and was in a bit of a “blah” mood.  It took me back to the feeling that I experienced on a daily basis for the past few years.  I NEVER want to experience that feeling regularly EVER again.  I found myself in complete  amazement that I put up with that feeling for so long and never did anything about it.  Such is the trouble with depression- you know what needs to be done, but you just can’t do it no matter how much you want to change.

Tareak has finally learned how to keep up with me and my new found motivation and energy.   We are both more productive than we have ever been throughout our marriage.  It has been great for both of us to get to know this new side of each other.  I officially declare my dependence on both Paxil and Wellbutrin- and I am not ashamed.

“Are they going to think I’m a nerd for asking them to be my friend?”

“Were they really my friend years ago, or were they just humoring me and are now glad not to have contact with me?”

“Why haven’t they already requested my friendship?”

“I was never really good friends with them, only an acquaintance.  Am I being too forward in assuming they want to be my friend?”

“Are they just going to think I’m nosey and want to see their profile and know that I really don’t want to be their friend?”

Once I muster up the courage to ask them to be my friend (I often feel like a pathetic little child begging for friendship) the waiting game begins.  If they haven’t responded to my request in 24 hours I start wondering:

“Maybe they don’t use Facebook that often and they just haven’t seen my request.”

“They are probably telling all their “real” friends about the request they just got from Leslie and are having a good laugh because I thought we could be friends.”

“Maybe they don’t want to be my friend.”

Then once they accept my friend request my mind still can’t rest.  It is plagued with questions like:

“Did they just accept my friend request because they didn’t want to make me feel bad?”

“Am I one of those people they accept as a friend but then never look at my profile because they don’t care enough to see what I’m up to?”

I also have anxiety when some people ask me to be their friend.  I accept the friend request 99% of the time, but everyone falls into a certain category in my mind.  The categories are as follows:
-There are the people that I am genuinely excited to make contact with.  I usually send them an e-mail or short message after accepting them as a friend because I am so excited to hear from them.  When I don’t receive one of these “I’m so excited to hear from you…” messages from people I request as friends I assume they are just accepting my friendship out of pity.
-There are the people I haven’t heard from or talked to in years that I am happy to know still exist, but I have no idea what to say to them or if they are looking for a full blown reunion, so I just quietly accept their request and check their profile every so often for any updates.
-There are people that request my friendship that I don’t even know, but know Tareak.  Tareak can’t be bothered to create his own Facebook account, and so all of his friends request to be friends with me.  I always check with him before adding them, and then on days when I’m feeling bad about myself I go into my Facebook account and count how many people are my friends and how many are Tareak’s, as though it is some sort of competition.  I am always bummed that he has almost as many friend as I do and it isn’t even his account.
-Lastly there are the people that I would never consider requesting their friendship, but for whatever reason they want to be friends with me.  I start asking myself, “Do they actually think we are friends?”, “Are they just trying to get a lot of friends by requesting friendship with everyone they have spoken to in their entire life?”, “Are they really curious enough about my life that they want access to my profile?- If so, I am kinda flattered in a strange way.”

Oh the dramas of having a Facebook account.  Who knew it could be so complicated?  I guess my life could be worse… =)

When I was younger I remember a time when I wanted to know if a book was available at the library.  My mom told me to call and see if it was there.  I wouldn’t do it.  I was too scared to call.

I worked in an office during high school.  Most office jobs require you to answer the phone.  I wouldn’t do it.  I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to help the person on the other end of the line with whatever they were calling about.

After my first year of college I came home for the summer to work.  I signed up with a temp agency who placed me in a job where I would be answering the phones all day.  I was scared to death, but after saying “This is Leslie, how can I direct your call.” for 8 hours a day you get over the fear of answering the phone.

Unfortunately my fear has only gotten worse over the years.  I am better about answering the phone now, thanks to my many years of Receptionist work, but making phone calls still scares me.  Some people may understand my fear when I am calling someone I don’t know, but even I don’t understand my fear of calling friends and even family.  Here are some examples:

-My cousin is planning on going to school in Hawaii and wants some advice on where to live, lifestyle in Hawaii, what to pack, etc…  She e-mails me her phone number and asks me to give her a call.  Because she is family and I love talking about Hawaii, I finally call her after spending a few hours talking myself into it.

-Friends from Hawaii that I haven’t seen in a while call me and leave a message (I never have my phone with me or don’t hear it ring) for me to give them a call so we can catch up.  I feel bad that we haven’t talked in so long, but I am too nervous to call them back.  Why?  I have no idea.

-A friend e-mails to see if Tareak and I want to go out to dinner with her and her husband.  She leaves her number and tells me to give her a call.  Instead of calling I e-mail her back and arrange the whole dinner via e-mail without ever even talking to her on the phone.

I don’t know why I’m so nervous to call people.  I can call Tareak and my immediate family without getting nervous, but everyone else is basically torture.  I have one theory on why I don’t like calling people, but it doesn’t necessarily explain why I get nervous.  My theory is this:  I don’t like calling people because I don’t want to be a bother and interrupt whatever they were doing before I called.  I can see why this would make me hesitant to call, but not afraid.

So in conclusion- if I haven’t called you back in days, weeks, months or even years (yes, there are people I haven’t called back in years and it is now to the point where it is just too embarrasing to return the phone call)- don’t be offended.  It is nothing personal.  “It’s not you, it’s me.”  =)  My only advice if you’d really like me to call you back, leave a voice mail or send an e-mail hinting at some big news that you will only tell me if I call you back.  My curiosity usually always gets the better of me, even if it means I have to make……. a scary phone call…. dun…. dun… dun….