My husband and I were chatting in the kitchen Monday morning. Being self-employed, he’s home for a while most mornings, and on my days off, I’m around for a couple hours before I run off to work out and get my errands accomplished. This is when we remind each other what’s on the agenda for the day, and on Mondays, the weekly outlook. I decided to reveal something that I’d noticed lately: I’ve barely taken my daily doses of Prozac over the last few weeks. It wasn’t a conscious decision to stop taking it. I quite honestly had forgotten it every day. There have been many days in the past that I’ve forgotten a day, 2-3 at the most, but I always notice that I’m feeling really tired and then realize that I’ve skipped a few doses when I sit and think about it. My doctor and I had decided nearly 12 years ago that I’d likely be on Prozac for life, given my personal history (it was my 3rd diagnosed depression at the time) and my family history of depression and suicide.
Tim scooted his chair away from the kitchen table and turned to face me. He told me that he’d been reluctant to say anything for fear of jinxing things, but that life seemed to be so great right now. Our kids are well-adjusted and happy, his business was going well, our marriage is strong. I’ve been working out (and enjoying it!), and I have a job that I love. He said, “You just seem so happy.” I took a deep breath, and said, “I AM happy!” Just saying the words out loud moved me to tears. But I couldn’t help myself; I leaned over and knocked on our butcher block island in the kitchen.
Just like Tim, I’ve had a fear of giving voice to my happiness. We’ve all seen the thriller movies, where you’re close to the end and the heroes are saying, “Whew! The worst is over; nothing can stop us now!”, only to have one final conflict, the biggest they’ve faced throughout the movie. And we in the audience are saying, “Idiots! You’re jinxing yourself!!” It seems that if I say out loud that I’m happy, Satan will bust up in here and say, “Haha!! That’s what YOU think!”, then all Hell will break loose. Maybe I have a hard time admitting life is wonderful because I don’t want to sound cocky or overconfident, or worse, appear to have it all together. Our life here is FAR from perfect. As we were having this conversation, Tim and I were in front of the picture window in our kitchen that gives us a clear view of our very nasty pool that is in serious disrepair. And, because our mower is once again on the fritz, we have the longest grass in our neighborhood right now. Another thing that keeps me silent is knowing that so many people I love are not happy and are struggling just to keep their heads above water. Telling everyone how happy I am would be like flaunting my good fortune. I’m afraid I’d sound selfish and foolish.
No matter how happy I am, I don’t know if I’ll ever shake the feeling that the bottom could fall out at any minute. Perhaps it’s from the years of having so much illness in my family. I never know when a phone call or text will come in alerting me of the latest health crisis. I’ve been trained to never get too comfortable with stability. So, I’m taking a big risk here and telling you all that yes, I am very happy right now. Almost deliriously so. I’m working out regularly, because I found a class that is FUN. I haven’t lost much weight yet, but my body shape is changing, I’m stronger, and I have more energy. Most important of all, I feel better about myself. My job at Bates Nursery is tougher this spring than it was last fall, but I’m still loving it there, even when I come home and collapse on the couch and tell the family they’re on their own for dinner because I’m too exhausted to think, much less move anymore that day. I especially love when I get to help customers put together plant combinations for their pots or landscape. I’m learning so much more than I have from the gardening books I’ve read over the years. Tim has been and continues to be my rock and the best possible partner for me. I’m still totally in love with him. My kids are AWESOME. I know all parents think that of their kids, but mine really are. Reagan told me the other day of a friend who is always fighting with her parents and how it concerned her. I had to tell her what an abnormal teenager she is that she DOESN’T fight with us. Praise God she’s just like her dad, the peacemaker, and not like I was at her age. Pierce continues to do amazingly well in the life skills program at Brentwood High. He inspires us all and is loved by so many. No matter the challenges, he still makes us laugh constantly. He really is a joyful guy. Am I completely done with Prozac? I very seriously doubt it. Even on drugs, winters are always terrible for me. But if I can make it through 3/4 of the year drug-free, I consider that a HUGE breakthrough. I’ve never been into the “name it and claim it” spiritual practice, but today, I’m laying claim to my joy, my contentment, my peace. And I’m not going to fear what Satan might do to me by saying all this out in the open.
POSTSCRIPT: On Facebook last week, I tossed around the idea of starting a series on gardening, using knowledge I already possess and the wealth of information I’m gathering at my job. Several of you were in favor of this idea (bless your hearts), so I’m gonna do it. In fact, I think I may just start a separate blog for this purpose and keep this one for my musings on other aspects of my life. Stay tuned! Now to come up with a catchy name…