Underwater.

I’m drowning in work. Pre-baby, this would be a good thing. Now I’m struggling to keep up, get it done, make deadlines. I’ve never missed a deadline in the almost ten years I’ve been freelancing* and I’m not about to start now.

Complicating matters, I will be leaving for Los Angeles next Tuesday to be with my sister who will be undergoing surgery for two herniated disks on Wednesday. B.’s parents have graciously agreed to come help with the babies while I’m gone. I heart them, big time. Because of their help I’m less freaked out about leaving the babies than I am about leaving my work. It’s just not a good time to be away, but supporting my sister is extremely important to me, so I’ll make it work somehow.

This whirlwind on top of my regular state of mind has me significantly depressed again. So much so that (gasp!) I’m actually considering** anti-depressants for the first time. I’ve never wanted to cave in and succumb to medication before. I've always held firm that my depression was purely situational and once “things” would change I’d be fine. Well, things have changed and I’m still largely a mess. I have everything I’ve ever wanted: children, a husband, good work, a nice place to live, good health. So why can’t I be happy? What’s wrong with me? Maybe there truly is something chemically wrong.

I watched crazy sexy cancer last weekend and there was a moment in there that rang very true for me. In a nutshell, this vibrant young woman was diagnosed with a rare, slow-moving cancer that she had to learn to live with. At one point she realized that, flat-out, this was something she was going to have to deal with. Every. Single. Day. From then on. Knowing that somehow lessened the burden for her. And so it is with depression for me. I’m deluding myself if I think that this isn’t something that affects the majority of my life. Yes, I have been happy at times (and I believe I will be again) but something clearly is wrong, has been wrong, and will continue to be wrong. Deal with it and live with it.

So yeah, underwater.

*I’m far too lazy to read back through my blog and lord knows I sure can’t remember if I’ve explained this before, but for those that might not know, I’m a freelance graphic production artist. Which means I’m a graphic designer of sorts, but I specialize in tedium like textbooks, redrawing site maps & floorplans for apartment complexes, that sort of really uninteresting stuff. I’m uniquely suited for the work - a perfect mix of anal retentive and self motivated - and I love what I do.

**Considering is all it is at this point. I’m just so desperate to feel better that I’m almost willing to try anything. But then, hey! I have a good day! Or two or three in a row, and I think I’d be nuts to medicate myself. I’m really torn.