My Struggle

Deep breathe! Yeah, this isn't easy to put out into the world like this. Anybody that has followed me before know or have gleaned that I struggle with depression, but I don't think I've ever just laid it out like this. Here goes: My story goes back to my pre-teens. I distinctly remember my mom threatening to kill herself with me being the only other person in the house when I was 12. It was terrifying, and I'll never forget that fear. It wasn't the first time I'd seen my mom's struggle, but it was the first time I got a glimpse of the seriousness of the situation. A few years later, I was almost constantly at odds with my mom. She didn't like my boyfriend. She didn't like my wanting to be on the phone with my friends all the time. And I remember the silliest fights over me taking a shower because I didn't want to do it when she told me to. There was probably some rebellion in me on that one. It was around this time that I experimented with cutting. I was in the shower and used my shaving razor. It burned. I tried a few different times, but I wasn't much for the pain. By the time I got to college, life was a roller coaster with my mom. One minute she would brag about my accomplishments, and another she was chastising me for finishing 9th in my class instead of 7th (thanks foreign language not being my forte) which she blamed on a boyfriend. This was probably when the seeds of self-doubt and inadequacy, planted in high school or earlier, sprouted. There were some serious fights with my mom, and a BIG break-up with my boyfriend of 3 years. After college I moved to NW Arkansas to attend law school. I can't say this was my heart's desire. I didn't have any real direction going into my senior year of college, and Mom always thought I'd be a good lawyer because I liked to argue. A couple of friends were aiming for law school, so I tried and got in. I knew on day 1 that it wasn't for me, and for the life of me I don't know why I stand with it. A lack of skill to study, the distraction of my soon-to-be hubby, and no desire to be an attorney lead to me "failing out". I put that in quotes because failure in law school comes from Cs not Fs....... It's semantics, I know. The year I turned 25 was really my first real bout with depression. I was NOT where I thought I would be in life at this point. I had always thought I'd be married and successful and ready to have babies by 25. I guess 1 out of 3 wasn't bad, but I was a mess - mostly about the successful part. Not only was I not successful, but I didn't have a clue what I wanted to do with my life. My hubby, Joseph, thought I was kinda silly, but he supported me as best he could. A year later, I had started my 3rd job in as many years after quitting a job at the mall and being fired....twice. The new job was a good one with a good company, but I didn't want to be an administrative assistant (fancy title for secretary). It took me years to accept that this job provided me with all the markings of success - a good wage, benefits, perks, great friends. I'd even made it to the top of the fancy title options - Administrative Assistant III. LOL Life was pretty good for a long time. Joseph and I bought a house, started a family (baby boy - Aiden), vacationed, spent time with friends and family, and added to the family (baby girl - Rylee). We were living the American Dream. I was 36 when I had Rylee. I still felt unsettled, and she wasn't as easy of a baby as her big brother. My workplace had been struggling for a while, and the day after I returned from maternity leave, there was a HUGE layoff. The kind of layoff that completely changes the landscape of a company - the upper management and people who had been there for MANY years. Not only was I sad to have left my daughter, but now I'd lost so many of my co-workers AND significantly increased my responsibilities. Around this time Joseph was also having a cancer scare that resulted in surgery on his leg. I had really hoped to put my Scentsy/Velata business on a front burner this particular year, so I could be home with my family. Life had other plans, and I was bummed. That was probably one of my hardest year. I was so unhappy at work, and my hormones went completely haywire after I quit nursing Rylee. There was about one day every month that I felt absolutely crazy. I felt worthless and tired and unappreciated. There were days I thought about suicide because I thought the world would be better without my crazy. A few times Joseph talked me down while I sat in the shower and sobbed for no really good reason. The truth is I'm too chicken to kill myself. I don't like pain or pills. More importantly, I know how badly it hurts for those left behind to deal with the aftermath. I've had friends and family choose that path, and I still struggle with their death. I'll always wonder what more should I/could I have done to help them. My head tells me only they could help themselves, but my heart aches for the ones I've lost and all they are missing out on. A little over 15 months ago, I was laid off from that job. It was my prayers answered, my dreams coming true. Joseph and I decided to sacrifice our savings to paying on debt, so I could stay home to be a wife and mom and run my business. Boy, was I in for a rude awakening! The transition was hard on me. Rylee turned 2 just a few weeks after the layoff, and I was putting a lot of pressure on myself to be perfect. Joseph always reassured me that I didn't have to be so hard on myself, that we were going to be OK on his salary. It took me a LONG time to realize that the rug wasn't going to be pulled out from under me, that I was going to get to stay home, and that nobody expected instant success as a work-at-home-mom. I think I've finally found a rhythm with this life, but it's still hard. Rylee is now 3 and pushes my buttons in the ways only she can. Some days are harder than others (today is one of them). The thing that has helped me the most is reconnecting with Jesus. I found a church that I love last year, and I've begun serving when and where I can. I also make an effort to spend time in His word everyday. I can definitely tell when I'm not spending quality time with my Bible. In all honesty, I've never been diagnosed with depression because I frankly haven't talked to a doctor about my issues. It seems the only answer doctors offer these days is pills, and I am not a a fan of medication (other than ibuprofen) just because they do almost as much harm as good. While I can fight a good fight with my support system and my Savior that is the road I will take. However, I completely understand that other people need medical intervention, and that is best for them. My next step is to share my struggle more openly and more regularly. I want others to see that they aren't alone and to know they that I'm willing to listen. There is a lot of ugly and hurtful things in this world, but there is also a lot of goodness and light. I choose to focus on the light and will spread it as far as the Lord allows.