This is a hard post to write, but I have learned that there is a world out there that shares my same struggles.
One thing that I have figured out, is that I have anxiety and depression. It was exaggerated and noticed more after I had my first child. Going to work as a teacher was a struggle. I was happy with the kids, but my director noticed that the moment I thought no one was looking, I went numb. I didn’t notice this. They did. My director called me into her office and told me all the things she was noticing and told me she was concerned. I’ll never forget that day. I’ll never forget the tears that streamed down my face. I’ll never forget that door that was shut behind me. I looked at that door, wishing it was open so I could run out. I knew that if I did, I would not get the help I needed.
Several years later, I thought I was better. I felt better. Then I had a miscarriage. This put me over the edge. I couldn’t get out of bed. I didn’t want to get out of bed. I cried. A lot. My mom came over, because my hubby didn’t know what to do. He had to go to work, but we had a 2 year old. He didn’t want to leave her “alone”. My mom got me out of the house a few days later. I didn’t want to be seen out and about in my town. I didn’t want people I knew to ask why I wasn’t in school. I didn’t want to talk about it. I did agree to drive an hour away to go shopping. It got my mind off of things and I enjoyed my time with my kiddo and mom. I went through some therapy, and was put on meds. I was feeling better.
I continue to take my meds. I have up’ed them and have a backup med that is for “emergencies only”. When I feel my chest can’t be “sat on” any more. When the “burning” on my face, neck, back, and arms gets to much, I take this extra med. I want to be off of them. I want to be able to “control it” on my own. But as my sister has said, if I had diabetes, I wouldn’t turn down my insulin. Why would I turn down my meds now? I need these to feel better, and to do better.
There are days, even recently, that I don’t leave the couch. I feel I’m the worst mom out there. Days that I hate being a mom. Where I want to run away. But I have learned how the meds I’m on can be used to bring me back. I have learned that some deep breathing, sleep, a goal of what to make for dessert (dinner is too much for me at this point!), can sometimes help with these things. The sad part of these days, is that I don’t want to be the worst mom ever. I want to play. I want to make fun foods for my kiddos. I want to hang out with my sisters and parents. I want to clean my house. But all of those things make me more anxious. A clean house makes me anxious, because I worry it will be a mess soon again. A messy house makes me anxious, because I worry about what everyone else will think about me and the mess I live in. Anxiety gives me the chest pain and pressure, burning sensation down my arms, on my face and back. Depression keeps me doing nothing, laying on the couch, not wanting to do anything or go anywhere.
“I want to go shopping!” “no, I don’t, that means I have to get dressed and drive there.”
“I want to do an art project with my kids.” “No, I don’t, that means I have to get up.”
“I want to clean my house.” “No, I don’t, that means I have to get up. And it will be messy again.”
“I want to lose weight, I should start walking.” “No, I don’t, that means I have to get up and go.”
We need to share our stories. We need to stick together and support others.
My family is great at wanting to help. I love them so much. When I’m not doing good tho, I worry a lot about even what they will think of me. Why do they want to help me? The struggle is real.
Walking and talking helps. But, to get out and walk and talk is hard to do. Anxious that I’m gaining weight. Too depressed to get out and work it off. Ugh. Who feels my pain?
Is this your life? Do you know someone like me?
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