What is contentment?

And how do I achieve it?

M said something in therapy last week about contentment that was interesting. A couple of posts ago I wrote about how I needed something to look forward to to keep me going. Whether it was therapy, a tattoo, going to the mountains, a 3-day in a row off stretch . . .something, anything. I've done it as long as I can remember.

Except I haven't. That's what J pointed out. From when we started dating, to when we had our son, I didn't do that. For 7 years I didn't do that. For 7 years I was relatively stable - though I didn't know it at the time (I had plenty of depression, and a few manic episodes before this, but I had yet to be diagnosed). What the hell is up with that?

Contentment. At least that's what M said. I was content. I was happy. I had everything I needed. And, save for one ugly manic episode and subsequent short depressive period, that was true. That was the norm. I was happy and content and everything was right with the world . . .

So what happened? How did everything fall apart? It was around 8 weeks after we had our son. I became horribly depressed. I was diagnosed with post-partum depression and put on antidepressants. I felt mildly okay for about a year when the depression was back full swing. Switched meds. Became suicidal. Switched meds. Was okay for about another year. Then started upping the dose until I had my major break down this past January. The one where I almost killed myself. The one where I met Dr. C and M and started working with them, was diagnosed as bipolar, and started on mood stabilizers.

Through out all of this, I found it increasingly necessary to have something to look forward to. I've been trying to figure out why. Part of it, I think, is fear. Fear that if I don't have something to look forward to, I won't make it. I'll crumble. Collapse. Fail. Die. Even though I know that won't happen. But it's what I feel - like I can't go on without it. I'm conditioned - much like Pavlov's dogs.

So why? Why this change? How did I become so sick after 7 years of being so well? How did I loose that contentment? From a medical standpoint, it makes sense. I come from an alcoholic home. I was used to chaos, inconsistencies, unpredictability. I was in an abusive relationship - more chaos, more inconsistencies, and unpredictability. Is it any wonder I had mood swings between depression and mania? Is it any wonder I needed some form of hope to latch onto? And then, then I met J. He showed me love and stability, affection and praise. He was my savior. I calmed. I was happy. I had my hope all around me and in me and I didn't need to look for it anymore.

Having a child produces a massive hormone shift. The placenta puts out great heaping boatloads of estrogen - a feel good hormone. Once that placenta is delivered, there's a dramatic drop in estrogen and other hormone levels change. This is called the "baby blues". It can lead to post-partum depression. In someone who's bipolar, even if stable, it can start mood cycles. When this happens in the post-partum period, and you haven't been diagnosed as bipolar, you get put on an antidepressant. And antidepressants perpetuate bipolar mood swings. You don't put someone who's bipolar on an antidepressant. You don't.

But I was on them - for 4 years before having my breakdown. This is why I'm so sick. This is why it's been so difficult. This is why I struggle. And you know what? I know this. I'm an RN. I'm smart. I've done tons of research, I've read numerous books.. And I know this. And at the same time, I don't understand why I'm so sick.

That doesn't make sense. How can I know and still have no idea? I do everything right, everything I'm supposed to do. I'm on proper meds, I have a psychiatrist and therapist I work very closely with. So why? Why do I struggle? Where's my contentment?

I've been running myself ragged trying to analyze this. Turning it over and over in my head. I can't quite grasp it . . .it's just beyond my reach. J gave me his interpretation - he says I'm scared. Scared to feel good. That when I start to I set myself up for failure. It's easier to stay with the familiar than to let myself feel okay. He says he's seen me do this time and time again.

Sabotage my own happiness for the sake of depression? That sounds stupid. That sounds crazy.  That sounds almost plausible. One can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness . . . I've noticed something since he told me that: anytime I have a really good day - one where I'm joking and laughing and talking and feeling good - I wonder when the crash will come. Surely I won't feel like this tomorrow. Or I wonder if this normal. Is this how I'm supposed to feel? Or am I getting hypomanic? And maybe these thought are my downfall. I should just enjoy the moment, the day, and not analyze what might happen next.

I'm not sure if this is the case. Maybe. Maybe it's something else entirely. Maybe it's a combinations of things (most likely). But the big question, the million dollar question is: how the hell do I stop this? I've tried, and obviously, I've failed.

That's the question. Maybe one day I'll have an answer.