The fact that I’ve had to cut out regular coffee from my exhausted life has made me sad. And now, I’ve had to bid adieu to all caffeinated beverages. So long, Diet Coke.
On the one hand, I’ve wanted to cut out soda for a long time. I’m aware of the warnings of artificial sweeteners, but as a type 1 diabetic, I thought Dammit, you can’t take everything from me!
I’ve been without regular coffee for about a month now with the exception of a couple of cups which sent me into an anxiety spiral. I’ve also been sober from alcohol for about as long as well. I wasn’t drinking heavily or anything, but I enjoyed an occasional glass of wine. But I noticed that I always felt more depressed the next day, so I decided to dump the rest of my pinot grigio down the drain one day and haven’t looked back. Although I am open to a good beer if I’m out somewhere. That has yet to happen though.
With those two comforts gone, I still made time for diet soda – about one a day. And recently I noticed that my anxiety will be low until I decided to pop open the fizzy drink. Ugghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
So until the baby starts sleeping through the night (if ever!), I will be walking around in a constant state of sleepiness.
But I like to think that it’s worth it. With caffeine, I’d say my anxiety had been hitting a six on a scale of one to ten. Before I sought help, it was running around an eight or nine. Staying decaffeinated lets me buzz around a three. Manageable.
I also have good hopes with my Zoloft. I was prescribed 50 mg, but opted to cut them in half to ease into it and have a better chance of side-stepping any side effects. I’ve been on 25 mg for almost a month now and got a brief glimpse the difference the remaining 25 mg will make.
Last week I decided to start taking the whole pill as it had been several weeks and I hadn’t dealt with any side effects. A couple days in and I didn’t notice any difference.
Then came Day Three.
I woke up nauseated, bloated, and incredibly tired. Just generally unwell. I had no appetite and had to force down what little food I actually needed to eat. Went home from work early that day feeling so awful and mad at myself for upping my dose, because I was convinced I was experiencing the side effects I had read about.
Once my husband got home for the day, I headed to bed around 6:30 with the baby. My husband took the three year old out for dinner so that I could have some quiet. When he returned about an hour later he said my son wasn’t feeling well. So he gave him a bath and put him to bed.
At 10:30 I was woken up by my husband running the bathtub while my oldest son whimpered. Something was up. I got up to check it out and made a stop in his bedroom and that’s when I saw it. Puke had been spewed all over his bed.
My poor oldest baby was sitting in the bathtub sleepy-eyed and sick, crying for his mommy while my husband quickly bathed all the vomit off of him. This was the first time my son had ever had a significant bout of puking, so I felt for him.
Once out of the tub, my husband took him to the couch to sleep while I stripped his bedding off and began that clean up process. It’s really amazing how having your own child changes you. I hate puke, and I do whatever I can to avoid it. But there I was, elbows deep in vomit-soaked bed sheets and wasn’t bothered in the slightest. I guess you really do what you have to for love.
At this point, I was actually feeling slightly better, my body aches had gone away. It’s then that I started to suspect that I had caught a stomach bug like my son and wasn’t feeling any side effects from upping my Zoloft at all. This suspicion was confirmed the next day when my husband woke up feeling the exact same way I had the day before.
And I will say, once the 24 hour virus began to wear off, I felt the best mentally that I had in as long as I can remember. I woke up energized and ready for the day. And all day, I felt happy and at ease. It was a magical feeling.