Friday, September 30, 2011

Day 1: Asking for help

I wanted to share a little bit personal about myself. Not a little personal A LOT personal about my depression. I have had a very very long hard year. Going through a divorce, having a baby, getting engaged then married, along with a lot of other things that I have kept very private. I have dealt with being depressed in the past, being in an unhappy marriage for a long time. I actually was medicated for a while. Took one medication but had to stop it because it was giving me heartburn. So the doctor put me on a different one. Shortly after he put me on that I got pregnant with Zellie and it wasn't a medication that was safe to take while pregnant so I stopped it. Cold turkey. Needless to say my system was screwed up. The summer after I had Zellie was the hardest summer I have ever been through in my life. All I wanted to do was cry, and cry and cry but I had to put on a brave face for me and my family. My insides were a disaster. Things settled down a little and I found out I was pregnant. My life was ruined. I wanted to do everything I had to do not let anyone find out about it. Zellie was only 4 months when I found out I was pregnant. A few months later I was moving out and signing papers for my divorce. I hated myself. So many people hated me. 
I was going through a lot on top of having the pregnancy hormones. I didn't get back on anti-depressants because everyday I thought it would get better. I thought, "once we move, it will get better", "once Aylee is born, it will get better", "once the wedding is over, it will get better". It was always excuse after excuse for me to not get help and to ignore that I was just fighting myself with depression.
The depression was winning and I didn't realize it until I realized how lucky I am. I have 5 beautiful children, a house with a neighborhood that is safe, pretty and has a lot of great people, and a husband that adores me no matter what. all these things I had and I still couldn't be as happy as I felt. It was like I had a shell. The inside of my shell is super happy, the happiest I have ever been. I have everything I have ever dreamed I would. But there is that sneaky outer layer that doesn't want me to be happy and has trapped everything inside. All the feelings I have a trapped underneath this layer that is making me sad and angry and down right depressed. I don't want to do anything but sit and cry or stare at the wall. But it's not that I don't want to its that I physically and emotionally can not make myself. No matter how hard I try its an epic fail to be the person I want to be. I don't like crying and being pissed off and insecure all the time. It's a horrible horrible feeling. I noticed how bad it was when my daughter had a friend over for a sleepover. I normally have a lot of patience for that sort of thing because I never got to have sleepovers when I was a kid. I was doing dishes and the kids were bored. Normally I would find something for them to do or play with them but I just wanted them to go outside and leave me alone. It took everything I had in me no to yell at them. My 'inner shell' didn't want to yell at them and wanted to play and have fun and laugh but my 'outer shell' just wanted to be alone and yell and finish the dang dishes. I want so much to feel on the outside what I feel on the inside. I want so much for it to be very noticeable that I AM happy and I love my family and I LOVE my husband. I want him to see how much he really does make me happy. I want him to see in my eyes that he is the love of my life.
In order to do that I needed help. Help is not easy to ask for not matter what it is you need help with. Pride gets in the way. For me and asking for help with depression it was pride, guilt, and embarrassment. Pride because I don't want people to think I am weak. I try to be strong for the people around me and it isn't to admit that can't do it and that I can't be 'super mom' and 'mega wife'.
I was feeling guilty because instead of asking for help along the way I was ignoring it and making excuses. I could have been THAT much better of a mom and wife and neighbor and whatever else. I could have maybe helped my kids a little more with things they were having a hard time with. I could have played with them more. I felt like their hole summer was wasted because I was too prideful to admit I needed a little help. Guilty because I shouldn't have let them see their mom like that. Their mom that is supposed to be there for them and take care of them.
I was so embarrassed that I had to ask for help. Its not easy admitting that you feel hopeless and depressed and anxious. To sit there and talk about yourself and about how you feel like you are failing your family is humiliating. But once I asked for help, I felt a weight had lifted. I felt like I finally did something for me and my family that was going to 'make it better'. Finally I was on the road to feeling being better and breaking down that outer layer.
Seems so easy to just go into a doctor and tell him what's going on. Its strange that something so simple can be so defeating.

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