I thought long and hard over this one, but finally decided to post.
In 2009, my then-neuro put me on diazepam for the twitching legs at night. It really does help, but I still have trouble some nights. This spring, my family doctor diagnosed depression and put me on sertraline. I was hesitant, but decided to follow through. It had been a rough winter full of death and difficulty and further disability, so I figured it couldn't hurt.
This week I was filling up my little day-by-day pill dispensers, and I held the bottle of diazepam and looked at all the pills in there. For the first time ever, I made a mental note that one could easily kill oneself with that many pills. Then I finished prepping the dispenser and put away all my drugs.
Two years ago, such a thought would have me tearing up and reaching for my Recovery books. I would have been afraid that I might carry out the notion.
This time I simply finished what I was doing, and decided to think about it later. When I did, I finally concluded that I just don't want to die right now.
For the first time in my life, I am in a fairly decent place. I am not overworked, although I am now naturally underpaid. No one expects too much of me, either as family member or otherwise. It is obvious that I cannot be the go-to person now.
Wouldn't it have been so much better to have learned to say NO sooner, instead of waiting until I was undeniably ill and incapable of performing as Superwoman any more?
I would love to say that I am teaching my daughters not to be Superwomen, but... BUT.
They are much more likely--and already are--doing as I have done, rather than listening to my good advice. Now I simply pray for all us Superwomen, and hope we can bow out before we are knocked out.