For the last several months I have undergone Lupron therapy as a followup to a a laparoscopy I had back in June for infertility/endometriosis.

Knowing what I know now I would have never agreed to the Lupron therapy. I knew that there was a definite possibility of emotional/mental side effects which is why I chose to do the month to month shot, in case something went wrong I could stop after the first shot.

I could handle the physical side effects of Lupron without much trouble, who doesn’t enjoy a good hot flash now and then? But the feelings that came with Lupron were so subtle that I didn’t even realize what had happened to me until the drug had swallowed me into a black inky devastating fog, and by then it was too late.

To put it mildly Lupron has destroyed every aspect of my life in one way or another.

I would never suggest Lupron to anyone if they had any another option of treatment. Especially someone who has been dealt the depression card.

I feel that the effects have finally begun to wear off, although I know I’m still not 100% myself. Those closest to me noticed a difference, that I wasn’t myself. And those who know the me who suffers from depression knew that the Casey that sat in front of them was even worse off than Casey with just depression. And me with ‘just’ depression is bad enough.

I am ashamed that I withheld and avoided friendships because of how the Lupron made me feel. I was not the mom Addie deserved while on this medication. And as far as being a wife? Fail. Fail. Utter epic fail. To go back and say “Oh sorry I’ve ignored you for the last few months, it was the medication overtaking my life.” seems like such a lame excuse. But when I look back over the last five months? I was simply an empty shell walking around, void of any and all hope. When I looked in the mirror I saw nothing. Nothing worth fighting for, nothing worth loving, nothing worth living for.

I tried faking it. Pushing through with a smile. For the most part it was all a lie.

I wish I could have those months back. I know I wanted a baby, and was ready to do almost anything to get one, but knowing what I know now? Babies can wait, babies can come other ways, babies aren’t necessarily worth risking your entire life for. (Coming from the lady who tried to kill herself while seven months pregnant? I know what I’m talking about.)

I know medication affects so many people in so many different ways, I also know a lot of you read my blog because you see some part of you in some part of me. And the part of me that has been beat by this medication says to that part of you, don’t risk it.

I almost lost it all in several different ways and all I have to show for it is a pit in my stomach and a black fog over the last five months.

I haven’t been a good friend (or even human being) the past few months, I was so concerned with making it out the other side of this in one piece. To those of you who have stuck it out with me? Thank you. Thank you a thousand times over. To those of you I lost or hurt? This is my apology, I’m so sorry.

I move into my house on Tuesday. A fitting new start to the old me that is coming back around.

solace.

I’ve missed me horribly.

Comments

  1. We’ve missed you, too. <3

  2. I feel like I don’t have the right words to say… so instead I’ll just say {{HUGS}} and lots of love headed your way.

    Here’s to a fresh start in your shiny NEW house!!

  3. Oh honey, so glad you’re starting to find yourself again. xoxo

  4. I’m so glad you’re “coming back”. It’s a little sunnier when you’re around, you know.

    Big hugs.

    Della Reply:

    It’s so true. This inspired today’s post.

    http://daily-della.blogspot.com/2009/12/noticing-weather.html

  5. Wow, that really sucks Casey. I’m going off my beloved Zoloft (too many side effects outweighing the waning positive effects) and have been in a dark place myself lately. I can fake it so well, that I can almost convince MYSELF that I’m ok, but then…. well, then I’m just not. I think you understand that.

    Hang in there. I’m so incredibly excited about your new house, and I sincerely hope that it will be just the fresh, bright place you need to be now.

    Kisses!

  6. I love you. I love you and adore you immensely. I’m here always and forever – no matter what.

    I’m glad you’re getting back to you.

    XOXOXOXOXO

  7. We’re all right here for you, Casey. Now and always. Fog or sunshine. We desperately need you in our lives.

  8. You hang in there, you brave girl, you. Enjoy that new house!

  9. I follow u on twitter and read this post. I did the Lupron shots for 6 months after the same proceedures u had for endometriosis. I was not told about most of the side effects. I remember wa/ting to throw up when my then 1yr old wanted to hug me because it made my skin crawl! Also didn’t realize having twins could result: we lost one 9 wks into pregnancy. But I now have my 4yo that I cannot imagine not having in my life. Here’s to new beginnings post Lupron!

  10. Three cheers to coming back around!

  11. I know this has been hard for you – I know we’ve never met, but I could feel you disappearing a bit, just from your tweets and posts. And I admit I was worried for you, but I knew you would come through this. No matter your changes though, I’m still here and it would take a heck of a lot more than drugs or depression to get rid of me. You are an amazing person, Casey. :)

  12. Welcome back. With tears in my eyes and love in my heart.

  13. Casey –

    So sorry you went through all this. IMO, the people who matter know that it wasn’t really you all those months, it was the treatment and they will forgive and forget. They will embrace you and everything will be alright.

    So glad you’re feeling better, “coming out of the dark” if you will – and thrilled you are moving into your house!

    Fresh starts, everyone deserves one now and then.

    Big time hugs to ya!

  14. “…a lot of you read my blog because you see some part of you in some part of me”…Oh, so true, and thank you for having the words that a lot of us do not.

  15. As someone that has struggled with secondary infertility, I completely understand that drive that gets down deep inside of you and makes you feel like you HAVE TO have another child.

    But honestly, the measure of a person is not the kind of mistakes they made in their lives but the way they atone and learn from those mistakes. It takes big ones to say I sucked for the better part of half a year, and to admit you took the wrong road. Not many people are big enough to look within themselves and say that.

    Finally, do you think you would have been able to get to this point without the Lupron? Maybe you had to go through it to get here, to this point with the new house and the new perspective on your life. We all have to walk through fire sometimes, my dear.

    Glad to have you coming back though.

  16. I’m so glad you’re back and I’m sorry it was so horrible. <3 you!

  17. Even while on Lupron, you still managed to show me sincere and selfless friendship. You did more than I think you realize. And that is what I’ll remember more than all the other stuff. Well, unless they offer me Lupron, then maybe I’ll remember the other stuff as a sticky “note to self”.

  18. Lots to grateful for, wouldn’t you agree? xoxoxo

  19. I’m glad that you are feeling yourself again. I’m wondering what kind of effect you think the Lupron therapy would have had on you if you didn’t already suffer from depression? I am starting on Clomid soon, and as I think of the things that may or may not follow in case Clomid doesn’t do it for me, it is really daunting and terrifying.

  20. I’m sorry it’s been so crazy. I noticed you weren’t posting as much, but figured it was more the moving crazies.
    Do you have to do anything more about it now?
    I wish I had a drug to blame my crazy peevishness on…

  21. Oh Casey – hugs. prayers. and lots of love. and all the hope I can throw your way.

  22. So sorry you were lost, but glad you are now found. (Amazing Grace, isn’t it?)

    No better time than the holiday season to have a new beginning.

    God bless you!

  23. Wow, what a horrible ordeal you’ve been through. I’m so glad to hear that you are working your way out. The best apology you can offer yourself or anyone else is to keep working at taking care of yourself and getting better. <3

  24. I do see much of myself in parts of you, it’s why I’m so attached. You’re so real!

    Now I’m terrified! I know Lupron is somewhere in my future. It’s been talked about since I was 18. I will definately think long and hard before the final decision when the time comes!

    I’m so sorry it has been so hard on you. I really have no idea how you feel but I do know how it feels to be on medicine that has sickly side effects.

    You’re an amazing, hilarious, and brilliant lady. Thanks for being real and sharing this with all of us!!!

    Have a wonderful time making your new house your home!

  25. i am so so sorry you’ve been grappling with this, casey. it is nice to hear your voice, though, and see you say you want yourself back. we missed you, too.

  26. Casey you are so loved. I know you’re just trying to work on yourself through this, but you are an advocate for others dealing with depression whether biological, chemical, medication side effects, etc.

    It’s good to hear your honesty, and we’ve missed you hun.

  27. I’m so glad you are beginning to feel like yourself again. And I am so happy that you are moved into your new home! It is a physical and symbolic fresh start and you deserve them both. Loves.

  28. What an amazingly authentic post. I recently found your blog through Ohmommy at Classy Chaos and have loved reading it. I can relate to so much of what you write and while I have never taken Lupron, I have had severe post-partum anxiety and depression and have battled the side effects of several meds. I call the finding yourself again, “coming out of the fog” – all of a sudden everything starts to feel “normal” again and you start to feel like there may actually be someone “in there” again. So glad you are getting back to “normal”… Thanks for sharing your story.

  29. I haven’t lost myself to medications, but I know exactly what you’re talking about. I miss me too. And I hope to get a fresh start too.

    Good luck, I hope things are smooth from here on out.

  30. Oh honey. Missed you too. Hope it’s an easy trip back.

  31. Ugh. It sucks when something that’s supposed to make you better or help you does something so awful to you. I’m sorry that it had such horrible effects on you, but I’m glad you’re back too!

  32. So glad you’re back and on your way to being better. :)

    Unrelated: I think(?) you may have dropped your daughter’s name in here by mistake? (or maybe that’s not her name, what do I know?). Anyway, I figured I’d point it out, just in case.

    All the best!

  33. Oh honey. I’m so sorry. Thank you for telling us, it must have been hard. I have a feeling you will help so many people. You have friends all over. Internet ones and real life ones who are here for you. Anytime.

    Congrats again on the house. Your bamboo floors are making me quite jealous. xoxo

  34. Looks like we’re both turning the depression corner at the same time. Welcome back. This is real, not that other place we visit.

  35. Welcome back, Casey. I hope things get better for you.

  36. You know what? You still have been a good friend, even during this time. I’m looking forward to seeing your eyes twinkle with a smile again, though – that hasn’t seemed to happen nearly as frequently recently. xo

  37. Lupron can be nasty – welcome back. New house – new start – and a New Year less than a month away. Good timing.

  38. Here’s to the beginning of your new life in your new house. So exciting! Focus on the exciting things coming up and rejoice in the fact that the Lupron is behind you…

  39. I so feel for you. I am a fellow endometriosis sufferer and was on the dreaded Lupron before my first child was conceived. Reading your post made me realise, and remember, just how badly that drug affected my life and spirit. Like you said, the physical side effects were just that, temporary and managable. I didn’t even know I was prone to depression till after my experience with that drug and I think it simply kickstarted the depression cycle for me or even worsened it. I, like you, was told it was my best chance of having a baby, and I like you, took that chance. It’s too late to look back now but I would never, never recommend it to anyone if they asked. It was simply put, “evil”, in my book. I am also incredibly sensitive to any hormones, even the pill, so the side effects of Lupron were pretty devastating.

    I am lucky to have two children now, one conceived right off the Lupron and the other naturally, after a second laparoscopy. Both were meant to be and it will be the same for you if it is. Please know you are not alone. Endometriosis on it’s own is a huge thing to live with and anyone who doesn’t get depressed from the constant pain would be unusual. I wish you all the best in the rest of your journey and am so glad that this horrible, horrible treatment is over for you.

    Tricia : )

  40. I’m so sorry–please know that we’re all still here–perhaps invisible to you at times, but still a safety net beneath you all the while.

  41. I’m very sorry for this. I elected to skip the Lupron because I am bipolar and I was so scared of the side effects. I always wondered if it was the right thing to do.
    I held my breath for you but as a stranger… it’s not my place to say: HOLD UP! You’re feeling all poopy? It’s the Luuuuuupron!
    I hope your hormones get back in line soon.

  42. mommabird2345 says:

    I’m glad the clouds are clearing for you. I hope there are only sunny days in the future.

    Congrats on moving into the house on Tues.

  43. Glad to hear you are feeling like you again. Hopefully the move and a fresh start will be the icing on the cake!

  44. I have no answers… but am so thankful for your openness and honesty and will share your story with folks (like on MomsLikeMe) who are considering this treatment. Infact, I’m going to go link this up now.

    Welcome home.

  45. Good for you! I’m happy that you have chosen what is best for you.

    So excited about your new house and the “new/old” Casey returning. You deserve all the best.

  46. I’m happy that you are starting to feel like you again.

  47. I feel like I’ve gotten to know more you more in the past few months than ever before. And I like you foggy or sunshine-y.

    And yay for new houses!!!

  48. Casey, I’m glad you are coming out of the dark! I also appreciate your headsup about lupron, since I am prone to depression I will certainly not go that route if it turns out we need scientific interference to conceive!

    Here’s to a truly joyful holiday season for you (in your NEW HOUSE!)!

  49. Amy in StL says:

    Depression is a scary insidious disease that you can always convince yourself isn’t really happening – but it is. I can’t imagine how bad it was for you. My friends always wonder why I workout and yet don’t eat right if I’m trying to lose weight. The truth? Exercise keeps me mostly out of the really dark places and helps me stay in the shadowy ones even when it gets bad. I don’t think they’d ever understand.

  50. I love the honesty that you always share. I’m glad you are turning the corner, dear friend. 2010 will be your year!

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