I haven’t written anything in what seems like forever.
I think I’m okay with that.
Every now and then, I think a writer needs to refuel,
rebalance, and refocus…I think I’m in that phase, and I’m not sure how long it
will last. I’m enjoying reading other’s projects, finding new books to dive
into, and focusing on the day-to-day of life.
Does that mean I am wasting my so-called “talent?”
I hope not.
In order for me to write and to write well, I have to feel
connected. Sometimes, that’s hard for me to do; in fact, the last time I wrote
something was back in February, and then in March, I was put on Lexapro due to
increased anxiety (this is in addition to a low dose of Wellbutrin). I think I
have felt slightly disconnected ever since (although I can appreciate the
overall calm I’ve felt since then). Although I’m on the lowest possible dose of
the Lexapro, I’ve gained a BUNCH of weight, and am really having difficulties
in areas of self-control. In the course of the last 6 months, I’ve gained 20
pounds. 20 pounds, on an already-fluffy frame. I’d lost close to 50, and now I’ve
gained 20 of it back. I’d like to wallow in self-pity, but what good would that
do? I need to get this weight off; it’s the only way for me to NOT be a
diabetic, it’s the best thing for my heart, and it’s the way I feel the best
about myself….but it’s hard to get motivated when you feel disconnected.
So, do I stop the meds and deal with the stress? Or do I
take the meds and just relegate myself to being fat and calm and somewhat
disconnected? What is it worth, to feel so completely, and to risk the
imbalance of doing so? And what are the consequences?
I know that it’s probably not “normal” to publicly and
candidly discuss medications. It’s been no secret that I’ve been on a pretty
solid routine of meds for the past 11 years. Life experiences have side
effects, as do various medications and surgeries, and there are emotional and
neurological consequences that have to be considered. It’s easy for someone to
look at me and say, “Can’t you just get over it?” I get it. And I also know
that as Christians, it’s really easy for someone to look at me and say, “Well,
we’ll just pray for you to get where you don’t have to take those meds anymore.”
And sure, if God wants to do that, I know it’s possible…but I’ve also seen Christians
stop their meds based on someone’s prayer, and wind up in a padded cell (or
worse). So, I personally think it’s better to be honest about these things, and
to take some of the stigma off of it.
Sometimes, we just need medicine.
Sometimes, we just need to be okay with that.
My biggest struggle right now is with worship. It is so, so
hard for me to truly plug in right now, and to tap into that part of my heart
where I feel I can totally let go and get face-to-face with Jesus. I feel like
the Lexapro is somehow fencing me off from not just my true emotions, but from
my true heart—does that make sense? My
creative process is affected as well, which is NOT normal for me. I’ve thought about trying natural options, but
the side effects usually counter other meds I’m on, so I have to consider that
as well.
So, that’s what’s been going on. Life has been good; my son
is amazing. He definitely keeps us on our toes, which is pretty typical for a 4-year old. I
actually think the Lexapro has been great for our marriage, LOL, because I am
certainly a lot less-stressed about dirty dishes, for SURE! J We have been tackling
home improvement issues (which means we have FINALLY been hiring wonderful,
amazing friends who are far more skilled than us, to tackle plumbing &
drywall issues). We are both working our tails off in our respective offices,
and getting ready to put Jericho in pre-school in the fall. So, life is “normal.”
And maybe that’s also part of my “dry spell”—I am so used to episodes of chaos
that I’m not sure how to handle a calm.
So now I’m going to just shut up and praise God for a lull,
because I certainly think we need it. I’m
going to praise God for “normal.” I’m grateful.
And I’m grateful for medicines that balance hormones,
regulate hearts and blood sugars, replace missing organs, and that help prolong
and sustain life. I’m grateful that I have opportunities and health care and
excellent specialists, and all of that other stuff.
And maybe focusing on that—on all of the things that I’m
grateful for—I can break through the fog and find my reconnect. Maybe that’s
how I plug back in, and restart the creative process. Maybe gratitude breaks the Lexapro lock…
Because I definitely know that God is greater. I may not
feel Him to the extent that I have, but I know that He’s there, and I know He
is far from cut off.
