Have you ever thought “why did I just do that?”. I’m sure you have, many times. But imagine having that feeling for several years. Image how lost you’d feel. Image how hard it would be to make/keep friends or be in a relationship. Image trying to love someone but then forgetting how to love. Image trying to raise your kids a certain way but then forget why you wanted too. This has been me for years now. I look back at different time throughout my adult life and not even know what I was thinking, nor can I remember how I felt. Now I know everyone forgets things and we all make mistakes, but it goes far deeper than that for me. When I was 16 I started my first anti-depressant, I almost immediately felt far worse. I returned to my doctor, she then of course told me it take several weeks for your body to really get use to it. Weeks of feeling like that? No, thank you. I stopped taking the medication(it wasn’t one that can have severe harmful effects when stopping it). I returned to the doctor several weeks later, at which point the doctor practically yelled at me upon finding out that I had stopped the medication. She also refused to try any other medications until I gave that one another chance. She didn’t believe me nor seemed to care that I felt completely unable to function on that medication. I never went back to see her, which meant for over a year I went not medicated. Which was tough but I didn’t really understand my feelings or moods. Somewhere late in my 17th year I once again began a search for a doctor and possibly a new medication. I found a doctor really seemed to care but sadly she wasn’t super knowledgeable with depression medications let alone how to help me. She tried, I ended up on a medication that made me have random thoughts about wanting to die. For example if I was driving I’d start thinking maybe I should just drive straight into a tree or ditch. I would realize that what I was thinking was off, but couldn’t stop the thoughts. So I went back to the doctor and she told me to stop taking the medication immediately, and she thought I needed to see someone who specialized more in that area. I didn’t find anyone at that point, which meant I went about 6 months or so off medication completely. A few months after I turned 18 I was hit with an extreme a lot of anxiety. I had gotten really sick and ended up in the ER. The doctor there ignored me when I tried to explain that my had heart problems and it wasn’t an anxiety attack that has also caused my heart rate to go sky-high. I let him convince me that maybe it was an anxiety attack so I took the medication he prescribed for anxiety. Fast forward maybe 2 or 3 days and I was already beginning to completely lose control of my own thoughts. I was hit with so much anxiety and fear I would ask my mom(I was living back at home at this point) to lay in my bed with me so I could sleep for a bit, because I was too scarred to be in a room alone to sleep. I didn’t leave the house. I didn’t drive. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I didn’t want to shower. I didn’t want to move. Every single minute of every single day I spent completely terrified to even be alive. I finally got into see someone(45 mins away) that seemed far more able to help me. They took my off my current medication at the time and changed them to something totally different. It didn’t take to long to realize they were helping. It took a few weeks for me to get back to myself(whoever that is). But over the next couple of months I felt better than I had in years. About 5 months later I found out I was pregnant and the medication I was on was extreme dangerous to a fetus. Therefore I had to stop talking it at once. I felt okay for several months, but towards the end of my pregnancy I started getting really fearful again and didn’t want to be around anyone. After the birth of my first daughter postpartum depression hit me like a fright train. I had no idea what was happening. I didn’t understand my emotions at all. I was 19, I didn’t know how to seek help or how to explain how I was feeling. When my doctor was 4 or 5 months old I went back to the doctor and get back on the medication I had been on before I got pregnant. I started feeling human again and was able to start enjoying life again. I did mostly okay for the next 2 years or so. Then I lost my insurance which meant I couldn’t afford to go to the doctor for more refills or pay for the medication. I had also gotten married shortly after this. I honestly can’t tell you much about myself during that time, I remember what was going on but not really anything about me specifically. I had spent two years on that medication and suddenly I no longer had it. I wasn’t sure how to process what I was thinking or feeling. In many ways I felt just as I did after I had my daughter. I knew I wasn’t in the right head space but I couldn’t pull myself away from the ledge I was on. I spent about 2 months total off medication. It took me awhile to find my grounding again, but slowly I thought I was feelings better. The end of summer in 2014 I was starting to realize I didn’t really recognize myself anymore, but I wasn’t sure how to fix it. I think I was more in denial of how different I was acting. I knew it wasn’t me, but at the same time I didn’t. I spent the next 2 years getting further and further away from the me I once was. I would do or say things and for a moment I would realize how strange I was acting, but it was only for a moment and I’d go right back to what I was doing. How do you not even know yourself? Why did no one listen when I tried to explain my confusion? If I started feeling odd on one medication they’d just give me another medication to take with the one I was on. That’s like throwing trash on top of trash and hoping it turns into a unicorn. No doctor I ever went to pondered the thought of why nothing ever worked well for me for longer than about 2 seconds. I will say that when I was younger I didn’t always fully go into how I was feeling because I felt like they’d either be shocked or they’d think I was lying, if I told them how bad I really felt. But as I’ve gotten older I now try to fully go into detail about what I’m feeling and still no one seemed to take me seriously. I come from a family with history of depression and anxiety, I lost a parent at a young age, I dealt with verbal abuse, I have now gone through postpartum twice. All of these factors have given them what they thought were good enough reasons to dismiss what or how I feel. Honestly I can’t remember a time that I didn’t feel this way. I can actually remember being about six years old(before any of those things had happened) and being so anxious I couldn’t sleep or I didn’t want to leave our house because I worried of all the different things that might happen. But how to you tell someone your anxiety was already that bad at 6 years old? You don’t. Because they will either think you are absolutely insane or you’re full of crap. I had to grow up pretty fast to be able to handle my ever-changing life, so by the time I was actually an adult I was already too tired to deal with adulthood. I would’ve probably made better life choices at 15 than I could/did at 20. I was tired. I am tired. I am tired of fighting for myself. I’m tired of not even knowing who “myself” is. Most of 2017 has been me trying to convince myself I don’t actually want to die. It’s an ugly truth. Try to think about how lonely your life starts to become when that’s all you want to do. Image trying to tell the people you love that you just don’t want to live anymore. It took about 10 years to reach this point. 10 years of trying to find help, only to be given things that got me further away from that. I have always felt misunderstood in a world where everyone feels they have the right to be. I’m not going to lie and say it wouldn’t be easier if some just understood. I have found people here and there that can relate to some of my chaos, but no one who really got it. The thought that gets me through rough times is that I think one day I’m going to find someone(maybe more than one) that is at the end of their rope and I am going to be that piece to the puzzle they have missed . I am going to know how they feel and what they’ve gone through. It would’ve made many things far easier for me if I had just one person who got the depth of my struggles. I don’t want to be the mother I am. I don’t want to be the wife I am. I don’t want to be the friend I am. But I am who God made me to be and I know where is a reason for it.
I’ve really been struggling this past month, my depression has over taken my life at the moment and caused me to hit rock bottom. Why? I don’t know, maybe it’s just everything that has happened in the recent past is catching up with me. Or maybe it’s for no real reason at all. After all depression has no textbook standards and may come and go as it pleases. I have fought everyday to get out of bed, to cook, to clean, to wash my hair, to spend time with anyone. Two or three weeks ago if I wasn’t at work I was home in bed crying or just unable to make my seemly extremely heavy body out of bed. When I struggled with depression as a teenagers it was different, I could stay in bed all day and could wallow in self pity. After becoming a mom it became more difficult to handle when I was having a bad spell, but she was small and we would just be home body’s for a few days. Now that I’m married it’s become even more difficult. I can’t completely keep to myself, which for me is a huge struggle. I don’t want anyone around to judge me or think I’m being lazy or ungrateful. I need my space to hide. I also need comfort and lots of it, if you’re in my space please at least make the space feel loving and safe. I’m slowly coming out of my shattered state of mind. Only sadly now I’m coming to the end of another TTC cycle which I’m pretty sure failed, so that’s once again crushing. I sing to K-Love late at night on my way home, sometimes with tears streaming down my face, sometimes saying silent prayers to myself or around these times, with some hand over my belly praying for a miracle.
Today is my daughters first day of daycare. I had enrolled her in daycare about a week last October, when then my husband changed jobs, so I started working night shift and on the weekends in order to save on childcare cost and worrying on my part. The first day I sent her last year I bawled my eyes out and was completely beside myself. This time I’ve decided to take a different out look, a brighter one. I started her a week or two early(depending on my work situation) as a trail run to see how she’s going to handle being there everyday and if she’ll like it there, and if she doesn’t it will give me a little time to sort that out. Where as last year I had to find a daycare very last minute and I wasn’t very fond of it. The lady’s working at her current daycare seem really nice, which helps. This time in between is also giving me sometime to work on some projects I’ve needed or wanted to do all summer, but haven’t had the chance. I’m trying to stay positive and take it one day at a time.
I have written posts discussing my fertility dilemma or rather the lack of fertility. After receiving the news a couple of months back that I will need to remove one or both of my ovaries I’ve been struggling to deal with its realities at age 22. I have cried, prayed, talked, blogged and drove my husband crazy about it. Considering I had just lost my job and we’re trying to climb our way back out of debt my husband saw this is just about the worst time to try to have a baby, and of course me being the hormonal train wreck I was I totally lost it. I cried and prayed seemly endlessly, I called friends(all who took my side, because girl code) and I continued to talk to my doctor about my options or the lack there of. I just couldn’t handle the thought of not having another baby, now don’t get me wrong I love my daughter endlessly, but I also imagined somewhere down the road I would have another child. When that road got washed away and it is now or never the need to fulfill that desire needed to happen. But still my husband stood firm on not “trying”, as much as I did on wanting to try. I know our circumstances aren’t ideal, I also know that are a lot of families who have more children with less then we have, I have been one of those people. My husband and I don’t completely see eye to eye on the importance of family and money, that has caused us to butt heads more than once. When you grow up the way I did you will look at life, love and money differently. I’m not saying its all his problem and I’m right, in the worlds eye I am wrong and I know that. But with my upbringing and through my eye’s I feel differently about finances. It’s simple you live with little, you love a lot. Because in the end you’re brand new car won’t be entering heaven by your side. Now fast forward a month or two and I had a job lined up, so my husband finally agreed to let me go ahead with my fertility medication that would hopefully give us a better shot at conceiving. I was thrilled!! I just thought for sure this medicine was going to work. About a week into the medication trial and I was totally sick! I felt so nauseous, tired and emotional I almost couldn’t get out of bed. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t stop crying, I couldn’t keep my temper from exploding, and was having a freakin’ hot flash every 5 minutes. It was awful, and to top it off the medicine wasn’t working. While spending a Saturday afternoon with my husband he decides to drop the bombshell on me he doesn’t actually want a baby(or at least anytime soon, so in my case never). I didn’t know what to say, I did however want to push him out of my moving car, but orange just isn’t my color. I tried to stay quiet long enough for me to be able to speak calmly and without name calling. I stayed pretty calm for me considering my state of hormonal chaos. We argued, I cried. He went to sleep and I left. I went to stay with friends while I tried to sort our mess. After lots of text messages, I said I would let the baby thing go if that’s what was really going to save our marriage from farther distraction. When I returned home he acted as if nothing happened and I tried my best to as well. Then it hit me, I actually had to let this go, I had to let go of my wants, hopes, motherly feeling and such. How in the heck was I going to do that, I had spent the last couple of months trying to do just that. As I laid in bed that night I prayed over and over again for God to give my peace to let go of this, and the strength to trust that he has a plan. Because really after all I was only trying to make my own plan, and not letting God even try to show me his. The next morning I didn’t feel any different, I went on my day as usual(slow and nauseous still), that following night I prayed before I went to sleep. The next day after I got up and I was doing things around the house I realized I wasn’t upset anymore. I could watch any baby commercial, look at anyone’s baby pictures on-line they had upload that day, and I didn’t get a ping of sadness in my heart. When I realized this I almost wanted to cry! God had given me exactly what I needed, what our marriage needed. I have peace, I’m no longer worried or saddened. I know God’s got a plan for my life, and whether that includes 5 baby’s (AHHHH, just kidding) or just my little girl and step-son. Do I think I’ll be a little sad down the road if we’re not able to have another baby at some point, yeah probably will. But I know God will help me get through it, just as he’s helping me get this obstetrical in my life.
I feel this woman pain, while I am lucky I don’t have an ex-wife to deal with, I do feel her struggles to my core. I want the best for my family, I love each of them endlessly. We officially joined our family’s when we got married less than a year ago, and since then we’ve very little progress. Now for me it feels like progress has been made, but from an outsider looking in it probably looks like I’m not even trying. I hold back is I know all to well what having a step-parent enter you’re life feels like. My stepson was only five when we got married, but none the less he’s old enough to know who he does and doesn’t want in is life and how much attention he does and doesn’t want from certain people. So I have safely kept my distance and eased myself into his life. My standoffish behavior isn’t because I don’t care about him, it’s because of the endless love I have for him that I never want to push myself into his life. I want him to feel like he has the choice of how much I apart of his life. I’m sure to some people this seems dumb, with he being five I should have jumped right in and tested the waters, sharing my love and mothering comfort with him. But no I put my foot one toe at a time into the water, to ease into it. I just simply can’t bring myself to make someone feel like I’m being forced into their life, 6 or 25. If that makes me seem cold hearted, a bad mother or just plain mean then so be it. But everyone is only an outsider to the situation and there for has no idea what it actually happening in our family. I’m confident that in time we will grow to be close, it’s just going to take longer then other people’s standers perhaps.
Get set, GO!
As a child your taught to wait at the start line for a Go! Your take off as quick as you can, go as fast as you can go, and watch out and avoid any optical in the way. As an adult you’ll find out that those all to familiar guide lines still ring true. While waiting you might be still waiting at the start line, for your race to began. God sometimes wants to give us more time to mature, maybe you’re just not ready to take on the race quite yet. God doesn’t want to give us responsibility to our way out of our league. God will push you to step outside of your comfort zone in order to do the work God asks you to do, but he isn’t going to completely throw you out in the ocean without at least a kiddie float (so to speak). So while you meant still be waiting for the horn to sound, enjoy your moment of rest and use it to prepare yourself for the road ahead. Phase two; you push as hard as you could, and off you went. Now you’re in a hurry to get to where your going, whether that be marriage, kids, new career and so on. You’re probably pushing so hard to get to your “finish line” you forgot to slow down a minute and rest, and regather your thoughts. While there is nothing wrong with hard work and determination, it can easily take over you as consume, that by the end of the race there isn’t anyone there waiting for you, or you’re not sure where you ended up. Pace yourself, think things through, don’t over tire yourself, because you can’t do what God’s planned for you if your laying on the ground exhausted and hydrated now can you? You’ve almost made it to the finish line, you can see it, it’s beautiful isn’t it, but oh wait theirs a beautiful/hot young lady/guy running next to you, maybe you should slow down so they don’t pass you. We easy get detracted. We’re human, which means we’re constantly seeing things we want, so we get off the beaten path a little (or maybe a lot), we might fell like we have lost our way and aren’t sure where to go from there, and we’re beating ourselves up about how bad we messed up. Well guess what? God doesn’t care that you got diverted, he knows the devil is there to trick you, and will try to pull you in every other detection but the one God wants you to be on. All you have to do is ask for his help, he doesn’t rub whatever you did in your face, he will pick you up off the ground if need be, brush your shame and guilt off and point you back in the right direction. Crossing the finish line, may not mean there are 100 hundreds of people cheering for you and dumping Gatorade over your head, while giving you a thumbs up. But you will probably feel pretty good about yourself, knowing that you were strong enough to make it through that marathon, and knowing that you’ll be able to handle anything the Devil throws at you with God on your side. So no matter whether your just starting to stretch before the race, or you’re about to cross the finish line, God will be by your side no matter what.