Depression

It's time for some real-ness here.

I have been struggling lately.

To keep up.

To maintain.

To keep the daily pace.

I dawned on me a few week ago that it's depression.

I battled the baby blues with Abby.

Those were some of the lowest.

I think it all started when I was going through the miscarriages.
But when going through something like that when you have a husband, a child, a job and a grieving family you survive.
You put one foot in front of the other and survive.
So, I did that.


Yes, I grieved.
I cried, yelled and sobbed.
But, the heaviness of it didn't surface.


Fast forward through time and I was making it through life.
Plodding along, one foot in front of the other.
This feeling though was growing and taking shape.


I thought
All mothers feel this tired, worn out, anxious, frustrated...
It's totally normal to dread getting out of bed in the morning {EVERY morning}
Everyone would rather sit on the couch all day doing nothing.


Yes, I still got things done
baths
meals
laundry
dishes
vacuuming


I did it because I had to, not because I wanted to {in all honesty though, does anyone enjoy these things?}.
Everything started to feel like a chore and I was just not enjoying things like I felt/wanted to.


Sure, I would feel joy at watching my children and the interactions, but something, some intangible thing was missing.
I was off somehow.


There became this desperation of sorts.
Something, something is off.
What is it?

I'm not feeling like me anymore, I feel like this cranky person.
Where did the me go that would crank up the music and make a fool out of herself dancing with the kids?
Sure, she would pop up every once in a while, but finding her so rarely didn't feel right.


The sleeplessness started as did the feeling of constant exhaustion.
This is normal, right?
All mothers talk about how tired they feel, this must be normal.


But then, one day, out of the blue, the answer hit me.
Depression.


Doh.
Why didn't I think of this sooner?
We have a family history of it.
I've seen it before.
Why didn't I think of it sooner.
Depression.


If I am being honest here and I am among friends, time to be totally honest.


I think part of it was pride.
In my mind, I had survived my previous struggle.
People told me that they couldn't have gone through what we went through and come out doing so well.
So by golly, I was going to get through this thing with flying colors.
I was going to make it.
I was not only going to survive it, I was going to THRIVE.


There depression sat though, bidding it's time.
Waiting for the light bulb moment, aha.


I kind of sat on the idea for a while.
Letting it permeate my brain.
Trying to decide how I felt about it.
Was it depression, was it not.
What to do, what to do.


I talked with K about it, he was supportive.
Call the doctor, he said.
I talked to my mom about it.
Call the doctor, she said.
I talked to a good friend about it.
Call the doctor, she said.


Finally, I called my doctor.
Two days later I was sitting down talking with her.

With tears in my eyes and a desire to feel better.
To be the mother I want to be.
To be able to find joy again, not just rarely but when the time was right.
To feel like myself again.
The girl that has been patiently waiting for me to figure this whole thing out.


So, I am doing something about it.
I am becoming me again.
Slowly, but surely.
Me.