Ramblings of teh Ammer

A 19-year-old newlywed college student who works in the wonderful world of daycare rambles about things important to her that may or may not interest you.

Saturday, October 23, 2004

Birth Control Can Make You Crazy? Thanks For Telling Me, Doc!

Oh, how could the adventures of my life get any more interesting than they have been the past week. This past week alone has been full of so many ups and downs it makes the world's fastest rollercoaster feel like a pansy ass bitch.

Basically, on October 12 when I had the world's fastest gynocological visit, it was decided I would go on birth control. What my doctor failed to tell me in the 5 minutes in my presence was, "Oh yeah, these pills can cause or exacerbate the symptoms of depression." Ya know, that's a good thing to tell someone with a family history of depression!

I was against taking them from the beginning, anyway. It was basically one of those things I did to appease my husband who said he just wanted to see what it did for me hormone wise and regulating my period wise, as I have only had 5 periods this year, 3 since we've been married. Let me tell you what these pills did for me. They made me CRAZY!

I started taking them last Sunday. I was fine up until Wednesday. On Wednesday, it's like all this crap finally snapped. Some drama I inadvertently started at work came to it's climax, which lead to me leaving work in hysterical tears and not going back that day. I cried hysterically all night, about every 5 minutes. Not even my mom could calm me down, which has never happened before. So, that was a long, rough night for the husband and I. Thursday I went in and quit my job, and I came out of that meeting with my boss feeling terribly guilty and like I was the world's most horrible person. I came home fully intending to kill myself. If I hadn't of sent my husband a text message, he wouldn't have come home, and I would not be here.

Thursday I got as low as I could go. I spent hours in a semi-catatonic state. When I snapped out of that, I called my mom. She told me that the pills were what was most likely causing me to feel like that, exacerbating my symptoms of depression, and that I needed to go to the doctor. So, I went to the doctor yesterday. He took me off the evil pills of doom and put me on an anti-depressant that also treats general anxiety disorder (which I also have).

I feel a lot better today. Finally getting help after 4 years of suffering on and off with depression is the best feeling of relief. I got help. I'm not alone. I am going to get better.

Friday, October 15, 2004

I hate my job

My job sucks. It sucks huge old man donkey-type balls. It makes me depressed and angry and want to cry all at the same time.

Must find a new job so I can quit this miserable one. And so I can go 10 minutes without wanting to cry because I feel like a worthless idiot of a human who can't take care of babies.

My husband needs to get rich so that I don't have to work. I want to be a stay at home type person.

Dear God, I am pathetic and useless. I should just curl up and die.

*this has been a moment of self-pity. The above is in no way a true reflection of how Amber truly feels about herself most days.*