I had a breakdown in university. One that was so bad that I had to be hospitalized more than once. I was suicidal, depressed and I couldn't for the life of me feel an iota of hope. Lucky for me I found a wonderful psychiatrist that helped me through it and ten years later I can't even imagine being that low.
I took my last anti-depressant in February 2000 and I haven't looked back. I decided to change my life and the circumstances that made me sad.
Don't worry I'm not going to go all Tom Cruise and say that anti-depressants are evil and that chemical imbalances don't exist. I was imbalanced. Horribly. If it wasn't for the yellow oval pill that I took for four years my life would be completely different.
My experience with clinical depression has brought me many gifts. I am open with my feelings with the people that matter (and that listen). I try avoid people and situations that I know will cause heartache or stress. I also realize that things could be A LOT worse.
Which brings me to today's rant.
My hubby's best friend and his wife just had a baby. Wonderful for them, sad for us. Yes?
The sadness part is something that I've dealt with. My best friend is incredibly fertile. I have numerous friends that are pregnant and have become so with no struggle. I stamp my feet (literally and figuratively) and wail at the universe for a short period of time, then I move on.
[insert disclaimer for selfish JellyBelly thoughts]
When we found out that hubby's friends were preggo I had the familiar pang of jealousy. A couple of months later HBF tells us that the baby was diagnosed with a cleft lip and palate and that his wife is really upset by this news. We both thought that her sadness would pass and that the excitement of the impending arrival would ease her worries. Well that didn't happen. She continued to be so upset that she said low until the birth. She didn't have a baby shower because she didn't want to face people. They'd cancel at the last minute if we made plans.
I can appreciate that she would be disappointed that her baby was going to be born with an affliction -- a correctable one, but an affliction nonetheless. I'm sure that most mothers don't dream of their baby having any sort of difficulty and that it would cause great concern. But the one thought that I couldn't get out of my head was that she was pregnant. She was going to have a baby. A baby that had a problem that could be corrected.
Wouldn't it make more sense if I was wallowing in my childlessness? She still got to pick out baby furniture and buy baby clothes. She got to wear the pants with the panel in the front.
AND MOST OF ALL: SHE HAS A BABY!!!! HER OWN BABY!!!!!
I just couldn't wrap my head around the fact that she was sad about a correctable problem. We have friends with autistic children. We work with children with Down Syndrome. I have a cousin that has ADHD and another who was born with a hole in her heart.
I really wish that I didn't feel so resentful of this situation. I would take a baby, any baby, regardless of the affliction. I'm even willing to adopt a baby with a disability (although hubby isn't too hot on that idea).
So here I am. I'd much rather be watching the Grammy's than ranting. But I knew that if I carried this around in my head for any longer I would be driven to distraction. I wish I could be happy and send them flowers, but instead I'm going to internally pout about this particular injustice.
So this is where the 4% comes in, I guess.