http://dooce.com/2014/08/26/stacia-drepression-suicide/
Read this. There are millions of people living with depression. Millions of people suffering silently because of the stigma attached to this disease. They are scared to say anything about it, to reach out for help, to let people in, because in today’s society, depression is still feared. When you say you are clinically depressed, people look at you like you’re broken. Crazy. Someone to avoid. They avoid you because there is still not enough public information about this disease and they don’t know what to do. Or worse, they very incorrectly think it is something you can control or “fix”. I’m here today to tell you that depression will never be “fixed”. At least not until people start talking about it and people start LISTENING. The two go hand in hand…one can’t happen without the other. I was on the brink of suicide. I’ve been there twice. The last time, I was hospitalized for a week. In the time leading up to that I had convinced myself that my family, my friends, and co-workers, were better off without me around to screw up their lives and bring them down with my sadness. I was positive that everyone around me had reached the point of wishing I would just go away and quit bothering them. These were lies, and a year later, they are still lies I sometimes have an urge to believe. I’m better at fighting it off now, but there are still days those feelings seep into my head and I spiral. Reading this post, for the first time ever, I really got the devastation that is left behind when a person deliberately ends their life. I was able to see things from my husband’s perspective had things turned out differently. Reading this, I felt the pain, anger, frustration, disbelief, and sheer agony, that those left behind feel. I have very strong feelings about the fact that I still get scared to talk about this as candidly as I have. I shouldn’t have to be afraid to discuss an illness. AND THAT’S WHAT THIS IS. It is NOT something that you can will yourself out of, or “positive think” yourself out of, or “healthy lifestyle” yourself out of. I can’t think about how much I have it better than so-and-so and be happier. It just doesn’t work that way. It takes so much work to battle this disease. It also takes luck, the right doctors, and awareness by both the person suffering and the people in their lives, to fight this thing. I’ve been in very intense talk therapy, tried 10-15 different medications, prayed hundreds – possibly thousands – of prayers to be here today. And though better, I still struggle. Please. I ask you to read the post in this link and let the raw truth of it flow into you. Whether you are a person suffering with depression, or someone who loves someone suffering with depression, you can take something away from this. We have to stop being afraid to discuss it. I firmly believe we will continue to stagnate in the treatment of depression – and any other mental illness – until people stop being ashamed of it, people stop judging it, and we all start talking about it.
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For maybe the one millionth time in my life, I wonder why I am the way I am. I've been a nervous, twitchy thing all day, and the only thing left for me to try is to just sit down and write it out.
This weekend has been one I've dreaded all summer long. It's the Saturday night before one of my babies starts school in a brand new school, knowing not a soul, and the other baby is starting school for the first time ever. We are living with my uncle and aunt, two entire counties away from where we are eventually going to be living, and where we have to get the girls - on time - off to Monday morning. My aunt and uncle left this morning for a wonderful sounding vacation for the week, so I'm maintaining a house that, though it's familiar, is not home. I would think all of this alone would make anyone who struggles with anxiety a basket case. But then you throw in the whole situation with the house being back on the market and it turns up the butterflies a notch. It's an amazing thing, but everything on this front seems really, really solid. The first deal fell apart on the day of closing, 4 1/2 days ago. We regrouped on Wednesday, and here it is Saturday and we've already accepted a new offer on the house, which has ended up being even better than the one before. And we're still showing. Until we get through the dreaded 7 day option period again, we'll continue to show. We've had 8 or 9 already since Thursday. So, I can't really say that things aren't going well. It's just I was thinking we'd be past this part already and I would only have paragraph 1's worries to deal with. I also had some really fantastic news on Friday completely unrelated to houses or school or any of that. I'm not ready to share yet, and no it's not a baby, so anybody who's mind just went there, you can just reel that thought back in. But, that is also on my mind and I'm sorta swirling it around in my head, looking at it, and trying to figure out which way I'm going with it. Going back to being nervous and twitchy. Restless. That's a good word for it. I took the girls to finish up some shopping at Justice and I really wish I could have those 2 hours of my life back. It did NOTHING to help with the jitters. The store was packed, my phone was constantly ringing with agents about showings, the girls were off in 2 different directions looking at everything BUT the clothes we were there to get, and the line was literally - no kidding here - from the register at the back of the store to the doors at the front. Because they were having a "Flash Sale" that weekend. And it's the weekend before school. So, naturally, there's mass chaos among glitter, sequins, bling, and neon colors. I had nothing to drink with me or I would have been popping some meds to help me calm down. It was horrible. And I'm a girl! Who likes bling! But that place is like bling on crack with a side of acid. We still have to go buy shoes, by the way. Haven't done that yet. I couldn't bear the thought of continuing after we got out of that horror store. And I have to do laundry for the entire family still. And then I have to do the store run to make sure I have all the goodies and whatnots for lunchboxes next week. It's weekends like this where I feel like the suckiest mom in the world. I am hating every single minute of this. Does everyone else feel this way, or is it because I already deal with depression that insists on dragging me down no matter how great things really are??? Please, God, someone tell me it's not my illness this time. Tell me this is just a terrible time of year and every mom hates it. K, thanks! I guess what I'm trying to convey in this mess of a post is that everything is actually going really great. And my mind says, "Oh no, no, no, no. You don't deserve great, there's a catch somewhere, and it's going to come slamming down on you when you let your guard down.". Which means I'm walking around like I would in a haunted house, practically looking around corners, jumping when the phone rings, and taking a deep breath before I look at a text because it might be the bad news that I'm 100% certain is coming. It is so frustrating! I want to tear my hair out because I'm sabatoging myself just when I need my strength and confidence the most!!! I'm sure God is watching me shaking his head, thinking "What am I going to DO with her?" I know I am. I keep wanting to apologize to Him for being such a freaking...well...freak. The last thing on my mind is something about work. Not the work itself, it's fine. But it's the fact that this has not been my best year. I've had to take so much time off work with spinal injections, sick kids, hospital stay because of course I'm the 1 in 1000 that turns into a marionnette on crack (what is it with me and crack?...haha, KIDDING) when I take an antibiotic of all things. And I know we are going to have to take time off Monday to walk my brand new Kindergartener into class and for the Boohoo breakfast. And for closing on the sale of our home, and the closing on our new home, and then moving, and that means that nobody in my family is allowed to get even a sniffle the rest of the year. I'm not allowing it. 'Cuz this mom ain't got no time to take off! So, that's that. That's what is going on in my head right now. It's 6:10pm now. Still haven't started any laundry. Still haven't bought any shoes for the girls. Still haven't even thought about dinner. Still twitchy. Basically, sitting here wondering what I should do first. Fighting the urge to cover up and put some earbuds in and just zone out. But instead, I'm going to start with posting this, and then tackling dinner. And then some laundry. And I'll deal with the rest tomorrow. Remember what I've said previously? Pre-evening (Prevening for those that watch Big Bang Theory) is hard on us with mental/mood disorders. It's a light thing. Which means, I'll be better in the morning. Know how I know? Because I have God on my side, the best husband in the world who just keeps telling me to "stop thinking" (he's right, you know), and because I know - KNOW - I have the power within me to make it a good day. We all do. I’d like to say that I’ve kept my sense of humor the past few days, but that would be a lie. Everything went to shit at 4:45 Monday afternoon. Fifteen minutes before the banking and mortgage industry closes, we get a notification from our closing agent that the buyer for our house had a “problem” show up on her credit report when the lender did their final credit check. We were supposed to close at 3pm the following day. Naturally, since it was nearing 5pm, nobody was returning her calls to find out what was going on. Me, being the super anxious person I am, started going to “that place” and it was everything I could do to not just completely shut down. But, be proud of me, because I fought against it, and managed to semi-finish cleaning the house and then get back to my uncle’s and be a semi-productive person for the evening. That’s a lot of “semi” existing, but hey, this time last year you would have found me in a fetal position in some corner of the house with my thumb in my mouth. I kid…but not really.
So…cut to today, and the buyer is off our list. Our agent sends a blast notification to all the people who previously made offers on our house and also re-listed us. So far, we’ve had 4 or 5 showings scheduled today. I’ve actually lost track. This makes me happy on one hand, because it shows that we still have plenty of interest in our property. However, we’ve had literally zero time to do any kind of major cleaning since moving our stuff out, not to mention, we had MASSIVE storms this past weekend, so our pool looks like shit. I was torn. Do we decline/reschedule showings so we can get it cleaned up? Or do we take the chance that people will look past that and realize it can and will be cleaned by the time we closed? I called our agent and asked for the opinion (since he is the expert, after all) and he said don’t decline any showings. Go with it, and people will most likely look past that kind of stuff and fall in love with the house for what it is. SO. We are proceeding with letting them show tonight, but hubs and I are sitting here wondering when the hell we’re going to have time to work on the pool. We have people scheduled up until 8pm, when it starts getting dark, so yeah, I don’t know. It has definitely been a mixed bag of feelings going on today. Part of me is proud of myself. Really, I could have been a complete waste of space during this, but I’ve pulled it together and marched on. But part of me is still squelching the desire to just scream into a pillow, shut my eyes, and wait for somebody to wave their wand and just fix it. I had a talk with a good friend today and we discussed the fact that during times of high stress or need, it’s really easy to forget to put our trust in God and instead we just start trying to control everything ourselves. I have to slow down, and sometimes it takes a friend to remind me, and remember to put my fears and struggles and worry on His shoulders. He’s much better equipped to deal with it than I am. That is a proven fact. In the grand scheme of things, this isn’t a huge deal. I know that. I know there are people starving in the world, people who don’t have any home at all, people who are abused, jobless, struggling just to meet the bills, you name it. But, this is still a big deal for my family. And it’s stressful, even if it’s not “end of the world” stressful. I’m trying so hard to keep that in mind and loosen up. Go with the flow. But, wow, is it hard. It’s hard for those that have the easiest dispositions in the world. It’s really, really hard for those of us who have to take medication and struggle with mood/mental health disorders every breathing minute of every day. I’m looking forward to this being over, one way or another. I’m hoping that there is a day where I can look back on this and be laughing and joking over it. Actually, I know that day will come at some point. Most things can be reflected upon with humor given enough time. This will be no different. But in the meantime, I’m having a serious martini, some serious time with my Netflix guilty pleasures (I’m not revealing what I watch because it’s just too embarrassing to admit that I’m 38 and watching some of these shows), and then I’m going to do my best to go to sleep and totally forget everything for at least 8 hours. And I’ll start the process over again tomorrow, armed and ready to do battle another day. Today marks our last night in our house. Tomorrow the movers come and move all the furniture and boxes we’ve already got packed to storage. The rest of the weekend will be spent moving the last of the boxes into storage and then moving our clothing and personal effects to our wonderful uncle/aunt’s house. I have somewhat mixed feelings. There is a part of me that is sad, of course. This was our first home together and it’s where both girls have come home from the hospital. It’s where Grace (my precious puppy) and Tiberius (the good guinea pig) are buried. It’s where we’ve laughed and cried and celebrated together. But, there is joy, too. I will be ready to let go of the worries about pool upkeep, the neighborhood concerns I’m starting to see, and I’m looking very forward to having my new beautiful home all bright and shiny and ready for new memories to be made in.
Right now my oldest is struggling the most with leaving. It’s the only home she’s known, and she’s very sensitive, so there have been a lot of tears shed. I’m afraid I haven’t been able to help has much as I want to. She just cries harder when I try to convince her that the memories she’s made here will forever be with her, and that she will have a bigger and better home with a lifetime of memories ahead of her to make in it. No, that doesn’t seem to help her cope one bit. She just cries, and then I start letting that little sliver of fear about doing the right thing take hold and grow and grow. I’ve even gone so far as to consider backing out of this whole thing just to make her happy about staying. Luckily, I’ve mentally shaken myself when those thoughts get too big, and I remind myself that we are doing this for both girls’ good. They will be in better schools. We will be saving money in the long run. And we are still right here in the area, so she’ll see her grandparents and extended family just as much as she always has. I’m telling ya, H has the ability to tug at my heartstrings and threaten my ability to do what I should do as a parent in the name of making her happy. So, tonight is going to be bittersweet. We still have a lot of packing to do, which I’m very quickly getting sick of. Who knew how much stuff can be accumulated in 11 years!! But we’re ordering pizza, playing with the dogs (who are back home with us!), and enjoying our last night in the house together as a complete family. Hell, maybe I’ll even get fancy and have a celebratory martini tonight. I used to have one of those almost every evening after work, and I miss it. We’re restocking our bar in the new house and I’m re-instituting the practice when we move in. I’ll make my martini, sit on our back porch, and listen to the stillness. In other news, I am soooo close to finishing chapter 3, and I am so in love with what I’ve already written, and what I have planned in my head for the long run. I have a very detailed storyline laid out, and it twists and turns. I don’t know how long this process will take to finish, but I’m not in any rush. I’m just enjoying the ride right now. So, I’m switching modes again, bear with me. This is going to sound really strange, but it’s actually pretty important to me. Let me start by saying that I have always absolutely abhorred/detested/loathed/despised/hated my freckles. H.A.T.E THEM! They’re just…ugh. Anyway. Towards the end of last week, I had a severe allergic reaction to an antibiotic that I was taking for a kidney infection/UTI. It was scary as hell. I had a dystonic reaction to Cipro and let me just explain what the hell that is. It looked like I was having seizures, but I wasn’t. My body, though, was experiencing powerful muscle tremors and I had zero control over anything. I don’t remember too much about the ambulance ride or the first few hours in the ER. I do, however, remember making a hideous moaning noise over and over and over again, and I remember hubs there holding my hand as I jerked around on the bed. My arms and legs and head were flailing about willy nilly, doing their own thing, and it was just horrible. I was in the hospital for a few days, but here is what I am trying to get at. My nurse that first night was the most adorable thing I’d ever seen. She was hilarious, she was gorgeous, and guys….SHE HAD FRECKLES! Not a few, not just a smattering. No, they were everywhere, just like me! And I realized that I hadn’t even noticed them at first. I just noticed how pretty she was. I mentioned it to hubs, and he just gave me that look that says, “uh-huh, and what have I been telling you all these years?” This may not sound all that important, but it is to me. Because one of the main complaints I’ve had all my life is the fact that I have these mother f’ing damn freckles. But this past week, I’ve looked at them in a new way. I don’t see them as something that is hindering my appearance. Now, I’m not going to go to the other extreme end of the spectrum and be in love with them. No, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to embrace them like that. But I DO believe they are not nearly the detriment to my appearance as I’ve always thought they are. So, that my friends, is progress. Back before I took my break from this blog, I had made a decision to stop trying to be who/what/how I thought everyone around me wanted me to be. I’ve focused on doing and saying what comes natural to me. That has probably been one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. Everyone I interact with gets the same version of Alison. The one that I’m comfortable in, because it’s me. No more masks, no more variations of myself. If that means I drop a F-bomb, then I do. That’s me. Sometimes it’s just satisfying to drop that F-bomb or even multiple ones. Why give that up? It’s just a word, and a fun word at that. So why change it? It doesn’t mean any of my beliefs are different, and it doesn’t mean that I don’t have a good vocabulary (because I challenge anyone to accuse me of not having a solid grasp of the English language and a relatively extensive vocabulary). And it certainly doesn’t mean I’m not a good person. It just means I have that word in my repertoire, and I use it. I like to tell jokes. I have a dry sense of humor that some people just don’t get – while others totally get and those people are the best. ;) It’s been liberating to say what I think and not alter anything according to the audience. I invite anyone who struggles with putting on a certain show for certain people to stop. Even if it’s only for a certain time period. Just try it and see how free you feel. I’d be willing to bet you’d never go back. Because it’s just not worth the pain of trying to hide your true self. Believe me, I know both sides of the coin, and let me tell ya, I’m sticking with this one. Consequences be damned. That’s about everything I wanted to say today. You can probably tell by my subject switching that my mind is going ninety to nothing and I’m just writing my thoughts as they pop into my head. Sort of chaotic, but I’m good with it. I’m certain things will calm down after we close on the house next week. I mean, really, they have to, right? Have I mentioned lately that I’m thankful to be back? I am. This is where I belong, so next time I get the crazy notion to stop, somebody slap me, would ya? :) I knew when I wrote my last “goodbye” post, that I would struggle with the decision. And I was right. I finally accepted my passion for writing as one of the ways I can combat my depression, anxiety, and other silent struggles. But right when I felt like it was helping me, I did a 180 and shut it off like a faucet. Why would I do that? I did it as a way to harm self. It’s not just a saying…you are your own worst enemy. I never knew how hard it would be for me to just shut up and not keep a running commentary going about myself and my life, my kids, friends, and family. For someone who doesn’t like to talk much in person, I have plenty to say on paper.
So here I sit….the place I’ve wanted and needed to sit. In front of this laptop, music in my ears, I just let myself go and write. Whatever it is that’s bothering me, or lifting me up. It doesn’t matter. I’ve become super duper in tune with myself so that I 100% know for a fact that writing lifts me up and helps me reach a calm that I’ve never been able to find before. When I didn’t have this blog to write in, I turned more of my attention to the book I’m writing. It’s coming along nicely, and I’m really excited to start showing more of the world what it is. I have a select few that gets to read each chapter when it finishes, and I’d probably have stopped about 6 months ago if I didn’t have them to give me such support, guidance, and feedback. It’s such an exciting journey. But it has its ups and downs. I can leave it untouched for a week, all while I’m playing and replaying scenes in my head …mentally scribbling that part out and adding this part here, and then replaying the whole thing again to see if flows and fits the characters I’ve created. It’s intense, and I’ve had actual arguments “out loud” with my characters because they aren’t conforming to what I want them to do. I will never give this up, though. I can spin character’s and their stories to match up to my younger daydreams and by doing this, I get to actually live out my fantasy. I can seek revenge upon those that have crossed me. I can spin a story so crazy and out there that it could only take a brain of a “crazy” to remotely understand it. I’m going to transition away from the writing talk for a moment. I wanted to give a quick snapshot of me the past 5 weeks. Hubs and I decided to put the house up for sale one night as a “whim”. I hate to call it a whim because I had been thinking about for a lot longer than that, but when the school zones changed, that sort of gave me the kick in the ass I needed to convince Hubs it was time. We’ve been going 100000mph ever since. But here we are, our house sold in 6 days. We had 9 offers in the first 2 days of showings. We picked the most attractive one, of course. We flew through the option period, the inspection done, minor repairs we agreed to fix are almost done, and the appraisal came in and is looking good. Movers are arriving Saturday to move us out and into storage and then we are all off (including my poogly woogly dogs that I’VE MISSED WITH ALL MY HEART!) to live with family the next 2 months while our own house is finished being built. The girls are about 90% prepared for school. Both are registered, school clothes shopping nearly done, and after school care program for L selected, enrolled, and paid. School supplies have been bought (that was such a fun trip. I’m OBSESSED with school supplies and I had so much fun looking at all of it). H has gone to the 1 day camp at her school to get her acclimated, show her the ropes, practice on a combination lock, meet some people. If we’re to be totally honest here, the only thing left that has me nervous is H’s first day of school. L will be fine, I am confident in this. Her best little friend is going there, too. He lives 2 doors down from our new house, so she’s just as happy about everything as can be. H is a little older, a little more aware of what school is really like her for age group….and it all hinges on making friends. She is super easy to make friends with, though, and I’m hanging on to that knowledge like it’s the thing holding me to this earth. Lots of prayers and conversations between me and God have been had, and I know He will take care of her. And when I lose sight of that and start to get nervous again, I just re-center that though in my mind, and I’m immediately calmed. So, really, as absolutely insane the past 2 months could have been for me, I’m actually in pretty good shape. Hubs and I have reached a new point in our relationship and I am so happy and blessed and I JUST LOVE HIM SO MUCH! I’m happy right now. I’ve been happy. The only thing that was really missing is….this. So, here I am. I’m back. And my smile is SO BIG right now. |
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