For months I was only on the one med so that if/when postpartum hit I’d be ready.  For months I took my Cymbalta because I might get sad around the end of February.

February came and went, but the sads never showed their face.

Oh I had my moments but they were all life moments.  Easily enough explained and dealt with.  Not reasons to pop a pill.

So 2 weeks ago when it came time to refill my script for the pills that beat the sads that never showed, I asked if we could skip that part of the appointment.  We had talked along of me going off meds once I was in the clear.  Why wait?  I was/am doing tremendous.  So, I went off meds.

This week I have:
Started my menstrual cycle, which always makes for wholesome hormonal goodness.
Went off caffeine cold turkey.
Gone to put on a skirt that fit me at 9-months pregnant but apparently doesn’t fit me now.  This week anyways.

Oh hey, we may have found a house if everything goes as planned.  Though, of course, moving is fun.  Plus, 30 year mortgage is a bit of a weight.  Good, but still heavy.
Had to inform my Grandmother that her son will be homeless in 2 months.
Had my father assault my husband.
Been made to feel numerous times, by people I can trust, that I’m not good enough and/or I can’t do anything right.
Made the first car payment.
Realized exactly how fun the next year of car payments will be.
Destroyed my left ankle.  6 days and it’s still fucked.
Left Band Back Together.  Not because it’s what I’ve wanted to do but because it’s what I had to do.  Drama free aside from broken heart(s).
Found out that a good friend who is deeply cared about by the whole family has Crohn’s disease.  Which isn’t fatal, usually.  As long as you stick to a diet.
Had to search every random corner of my life for pads because my period started 4 days sooner than it should have which means I didn’t make it to the paycheck.
Realized that despite me being sterile now, I have 30ish more years of buying tampons and pads so that I can go through a process that is pointless.

So this week… This week it looks like, based on my mood, that maybe I shouldn’t have gone off my meds.  However I’m not sure how any of the above can be fixed by me taking a pill.  (Some of it could be fixed by someone else who shall remain nameless but apparently has had a known diagnosis of exactly what I figured for years now but doesn’t choose to see it as a problem…)  Fine.  Maybe it could help me cope?  But when you aren’t searching and aiming for my buttons/last nerve, I’m coping pretty well.  Even if that means crashing into bed at 7PM.  But then, sometimes that sleep can be very healing.  When following a day as a functioning working adult.