I really wasn't sure if I wanted to publish this post since the majority of my 20 or so readers are friends of mine and only a few really know of the struggles I've had (most prominently) in the last few years. However, as a "public service" message and in an effort to be forthright and honest with you all, I decided to go for it. Today will be anything but Wordless...
For years I battled issues in my head that made me feel like I was losing my grip. I felt unfocused, overwhelmed with even the simplest of things, and generally unhappy with a life that had all the makings for true bliss. In December of 2006, I decided I needed to talk to someone about it. It had begun to creep into my job as a Mom and I was not having it. I found myself getting easily frustrated, being short tempered, and losing my patience at the drop of a hat. I couldn't focus at work, felt like a miserable failure at home and lacked the motivation to just DO what I knew needed to be done (be it dishes, laundry, shopping, working out, or simply putting down that cookie that I knew was making and keeping me fat).
The day I made the phone call to EAP (Employee Assistance Program, a counseling service offered to employees of the company I worked for), I remember telling the woman on the other end of the phone that I just wanted to be a better Mom, wife, and employee. I was struggling in all areas. And I finally realized that I needed real help.
The verdict? Depression and Anxiety.
I waiver between thinking I'm a player in yet another all-too-often-diagnosed "trendy" illness of the moment and thinking "Yes, of course!". Looking back now it makes sense. Even still, some days I don't feel like I deserve the diagnosis. Like to be depressed I would have to have led a rough life or traveled a difficult road and since I haven't, I somehow haven't earned the right to "suffer" from depression. After all, what do I have to be depressed about? I grew up with the Cleavers, I have a great family, a roof over my head, a job that pays the bills and then some, two BEAUTIFUL and HEALTHY children. I just need to get over it. Change my perspective. Look on the bright side and focus on my blessings. Right? Shouldn't it just be that simple?
I wish.
The day I made the phone call to EAP (Employee Assistance Program, a counseling service offered to employees of the company I worked for), I remember telling the woman on the other end of the phone that I just wanted to be a better Mom, wife, and employee. I was struggling in all areas. And I finally realized that I needed real help.
The verdict? Depression and Anxiety.
I waiver between thinking I'm a player in yet another all-too-often-diagnosed "trendy" illness of the moment and thinking "Yes, of course!". Looking back now it makes sense. Even still, some days I don't feel like I deserve the diagnosis. Like to be depressed I would have to have led a rough life or traveled a difficult road and since I haven't, I somehow haven't earned the right to "suffer" from depression. After all, what do I have to be depressed about? I grew up with the Cleavers, I have a great family, a roof over my head, a job that pays the bills and then some, two BEAUTIFUL and HEALTHY children. I just need to get over it. Change my perspective. Look on the bright side and focus on my blessings. Right? Shouldn't it just be that simple?
I wish.
Fast forward to today. I have been in and out of counseling, tried various medicinal supports, and have both good days and bad days.
Do I still struggle? Yes. Often.
Have I learned ways to cope? Yes. Many.
Does that make it easier? Yes. Sometimes.
It's hard to accept that this is my life. It's difficult to admit that I may always have to "deal" with this on some level. It's definitely not the worst hand life could have dealt me but it has its moments. I don't know if there's a stigma in society about it. I honestly never thought about it until just now. I guess (for once in my life!) I don't care if there is. This is who I am and what I live with. I do the best I can.
Do I still struggle? Yes. Often.
Have I learned ways to cope? Yes. Many.
Does that make it easier? Yes. Sometimes.
It's hard to accept that this is my life. It's difficult to admit that I may always have to "deal" with this on some level. It's definitely not the worst hand life could have dealt me but it has its moments. I don't know if there's a stigma in society about it. I honestly never thought about it until just now. I guess (for once in my life!) I don't care if there is. This is who I am and what I live with. I do the best I can.