Early morning thoughts

I was going to call this entry "Thoughts at 5 am", but it is now much later. So although I thought these thoughts around 5 am, I can't lie and pretend it's still 5 am. I could call it "Thoughts at 6:42" but then again in a minute it won't be 6:42 and another lie would surface. Let's just say I'm awake way earlier than usual and my fuzzy brain is racing.

One thing I didn't mention in my first entry is that I'm on Prozac. Sounds so Hollywood, but it isn't. Since going on medication I have found out that many, many women my age, right here in our city, are on Prozac. (Considering the crime-rate here, who can blame us? Just kidding....sort of.)

I did not just wake up one morning and say "Hey, I think I'll try some Prozac. Sounds so cool." On the contrary. It started with sleeplessness and worry. Continued with crying and despair. Next came the inability to eat or swallow. That's when I knew I needed help. It's not normal for me not to eat. That's how people recognize me. When they see a middle aged blonde stuffing her face they automatically go "Hey, isn't that Liz?"

I first went to a doctor regarding my mood changes about three and a half years ago. This particular MD was more like a drug dealer. Without thought he asked if I wanted drugs. I responded "What do you think?" at which point he'd already filled out a prescription for anti-depressants. I must have looked as crappy as I felt, because he sure didn't probe much. I was not ready to do drugs. I feared the drugs more than I feared the fear. That changed.

A year later I was loosing weight rapidly. I learned that skinny people are unhappy people. The reason they're skinny is because they walk around with a knot in their stomach and another one in their throat so they can't eat. I decided I'd rather be fat and happy than skinny and miserable. I missed my love affair with food. I also missed sleeping. And I missed being able to not cry. I cried each time I looked at my kids, sure that their lives would turn out terrible. I cried when I went to bed, knowing I wouldn't sleep that night either. I cried in the morning when I had to get up. What to do with life, what to do? I cried in the washroom at work several times a day. I cried as I walked the neighbourhood praying for all the lost youth. God help them. GOD HELP ME!!!

I felt like the writer of Psalm 88. Rod calls this the darkest Psalm with no good ending. That's how I felt. Like there was no good ending. As the last line reads "The darkness is my closest friend." Thankfully, after Psalm 88 comes Psalm 89! It starts out "I will sing of the Lord's great love forever, with my mouth I will make your faithfulness known through all generations."

After much prayer and involuntary fasting, a year after my first offer of medication, I met a wonderful doctor who really cared. He counselled me weekly for months until I finally agreed to try Prozac. (Actually I'm using a cheaper brand, but Prozac sounds more familiar and is much easier to spell.) Within a month I was back to normal. I could think again, I definitely could eat again, and I started to enjoy life once more. It felt just as if someone had turned on the light.

Of course I don't credit just the medication for my getting well again. Many friends prayed for me. I did what the bible said and went to the elders. I also have the most patient and loving husband in the world so that too helped. With the help of a fabulous surgeon I got rid of my uterus. That did wonders. A handfull of dear friends shouldered my misery and listened patiently to my cries. But above all, God himself heard my weeping. He answered my prayer. When I was spread across my bed, desperate for relief screaming "God help me, where are you, do you care????" he was right there by my side saying "This too shall pass".

I also found a friend in books. Authors like Barbara Johnson who use humour as a balm, introduced me to laughter in the midst of pain. May God bless writers everywhere!

Why am I thinking about all this right now? Because, after a year of taking Prozac I am thankful. A sleepless night no longer means the end of the world. I know I can sleep again later.

Praise God for intelligent, caring doctors. Praise God for praying friends. Praise God for early morning rain. Praise God for laughter. Praise God for eternal perspective. Praise God for his guidance and care. And as Psalm 89 ends, so shall I. "Praise be to the Lord forever! Amen and Amen."