For the last few years, I have been poked with needles, prodded by the best specialists. I’ve been through every test imaginable-no scan has escaped me. They have found a few things wrong along the way. Issues with my heart (non life-threatening). Something they will retest on an annual basis from here on in. The white matter in my brain is scattered. They told me when you get older, your white matter will definitely drift. My white matter has drifted a little too far, but they are only going to retest it every year to see if it Is expanding they attribute that damage to my many falls.

They almost hospitalized me-but there were only six available beds at the time. A nurse told me that there were six people ahead of me who were sicker than I was. So I was sent home with an arsenal of pills and the orders to do nothing for a week! (Don’t I wish something like that was even possible!)

Since Michael passed, for the first time in my life, I have experienced panic attacks. I have fallen, quite a lot. Generally, it’s on stairs. I black-out, I don’t remember the fall or the landings. What usually brings me around is Kota whining and pawing at me and licking my face.

The doctors initially told me, I might have a brain- bleed. I was also told that I might be in the early stages of MS. There were other dire predictions-but the test results didn’t support their guesses.

My eyes have been playing tricks with me. One night at the top of my very claustrophobic stairs, although the bright stairway lights were fully on. I could not see the stairs. I knew they were there. But the only thing I could see was this inky blackness that reminded me of the old-time movie; “The Blob!” This inky blackness was moving up the stairs like black fingers towards me. Honestly, it scared the bee-Jesus out of me. I wondered if I was going crazy.

Before Michael died,  my oldest sister (who I hadn’t seen in over 30 years). Called me out of the blue. She said her and Frank were on their way to Canada. They were in the area and they wanted to take Mike and I to dinner. Wanted to know what our favorite restaurant was and they would meet us there. No mention of coming by the house. That I was confused by this call would be an understatement.

When we arrived, they were already there sitting in their car. I got out, opened her car door and asked her “What gives? I haven’t heard from you or seen you in what,  30 years, yet suddenly you show up like this?”

That’s when she told me, she could not stand to be in the same room as me for over 10 minutes! I looked at my sister who I idolized the entire time I was growing up. I asked her what I ever did to her? She told me that I made her feel guilty. My mind was spinning. I asked her. “Why do I make you feel guilty? What did I ever do to you?”

That’s when she told me that every time Mother and Daddy were beating the pound out of me, she  never stop them. She said she could have but she never did. (She is quite a bit older than me) she told me  ” I can’t handle the guilt!”

I was the only one out of three daughters that was being abused. I had a counselor years ago tell me that when you are in a dysfunctional family. If you are different, sensitive, giving, artistic or what have you. The odds are, you will be the subject of the darkness that lurks in family members.

With Gwen telling me that it brought so much back that I have been trying to repress all these years (in spite of going to multiple counselors.) These days, my parents would’ve been arrested, but back then-child abuse wasn’t spoken about. It simply didn’t exist in the main collective thought. What happened behind closed doors, stayed behind closed doors. Thankfully today that is not the case. It’s also why I am drawn to only rescuing stray and feral cats who have been abused or mistreated.

So why am I putting all of this out here so raw and open? I had a feeling this morning when I woke up that someone out there might be in the same boat as I was. Being depressed and being in denial about it because then you have to deal with what makes you depressed. Not speaking out due to the fear that I faced a week ago, when I realized that nothing was making sense. All these tests, being shocked and flopping around on a table like a dead fish. Everything that they did to me nothing was coming up.  no actual diagnosis was found. There was no cure waiting in the wind.

After an incident in my kitchen about a week ago. Where my body was betraying me. I knew that I had to get down on the floor and get this mouse out of the house before Addie decided to kill it. But my knees would not bend. They simply wouldn’t bend. I was sending messages to my brain to bend my knees. Nope wasn’t happening. Ended up,Addie got her trophy.

I went to my office and I started writing down my thoughts. I am infamous for making lists. So I started a list. At the end, when the realization hit me, I googled the following: “Can depression, manifest itself, and cause physical pain and other symptoms if not dealt with?” I was shocked at the answer and led to a reputable website where they offered a questionnaire with the list of 15 symptoms of depression. I checked 14 boxes!

Now I was scared. There is such a stigma regarding mental illness now. Back in the day, you were instantly sent to a sanitarium for a 72 hour hold, if you even hinted that you had a touch of mental illness. But I took a deep breath, made an appointment with my doctor and asked him if this could be true. Could this be the catalyst of all the pain, the debilitating headaches, the vision problems, the black-outs and the falls?”

I was surprised at his reaction. He smiled at me and he told me that I was a brave person to go down this road. He said I was brave to even speak of it, considering how it has become so politicized. He said it is entirely possible that this is all about depression. He excused himself from the room and came back and handed me a paper. It was another questionnaire about symptoms of Depression. It was a lot longer than the one I took online. I checked nearly every box. He has diagnosed me with MDD Major Depressive Disorder. He still wants me to see the oral surgeon, there is a concern that I have a fracture in my jawline after one of my falls. He also wants me to keep my appointment with the neurologist.

Dr. Chad has put me on Citlipram. It’s fairly new in the market as far as anti-depressants go. I told him I didn’t want to go on Prozac or Ativan or anything that would turn my brain into a zombie. So we are trying this first. I’ve been on it under a week and can already see and feel a positive difference.

This is also why my blogging has been so sporadic for so long. My eyesight comes and goes (even after an annual eye exam showed very little changes in my vision.)  The only way I can explain it is; it’s as if I’m underwater at times. My eyes blur out. I can’t read or write.  If I’m driving, I have to pull over till it passes. I know now, I am not crazy. I did ask Dr. Chad does this mean that I could be psychotic? He smiled and told me that he sees no psychosis in any of my behavior or character. My older sister who I never met, was born with hydrocephalus. I’ve always felt my entire life that my mother had an undiagnosed mental illness. I don’t see how mother could do things to my mother. I was glad to hear that I am not Psychotic I  am just depressed and seeking the help I need to find my center again.