My "Give A Damn" is busted...

In a previous version of myself I had high standards for my upkeep.  I didn't feel human leaving the house in anything less than the best.  I had to put full make-up on, dress in an outfit that didn't make me look frumpy, even wear uncomfortable shoes so long as they looked cute.

Lately, that is so not the case.  It's as if my give-a-damn is broken.  I could care less. The effort required in simply showering and pulling my hair in a pony tail is enough.  I haven't had my hair cut in almost 8 months.  I rarely shower on the weekends much less do my hair or make-up unless I have somewhere to go or someone is coming over. I used to agonize over my outfit, trying desperately to cover my bumps and sags and find the most flattering clothes to wear to work.  Not anymore.  I looked in the mirror this morning, made sure everything was "covered" and "matched" and that I wasn't feeling self conscious in my choice of mindless pants and a sweater and I was good to go.   

In one regard it's somewhat freeing to not care.  I care too much about what people think most of the time so perhaps this is a refreshing change of pace.  However, I want better for my family.  I don't want my boys to look back on every single photo of their Mom from when they were kids and gasp in horror.  I don't want them to be embarrassed to have their frumpy, uncool Mom picking them up from a friend's house.  I want to be that Mom.  The cool one.  The one everyone talks about.  Or at the very least, I'd like to not be the one everyone talks about because I'm a mess.

I don't know how to fix my "give a damn".  I don't know how to find the time and energy and motivation to primp, doll up, heck, even put on lipgloss once in a while.  I don't want to be this tired, haggard, version of myself.  I want to be stylin', and qualify as "hot mama"...I just don't know how.

Depression is...

 

 Photo Credit

For me...

Depression is waking up in the morning, forcing yourself out of bed, going through the motions of functioning because you have to, and wondering how in the hell you're going to make it until 9 or 10 at night when you are allowed to crash and burn and just hide from the world.

Depression is watching the most precious gifts in the world grow and learn and be around you and just not being able to enjoy it and fully take it all in the way you know you should and the way you want to more than anything!

Depression is constantly having to tell yourself "I think I can" but secretly knowing you can't - or worse yet, that you just won't because you don't know where to start or how to motivate yourself to do it.

Depression is dark and lonely and scary and frustrating and hopeless and never-ending.

Depression is barely getting by.

Depression is the deep divide between knowing you have to get something done and even wanting to and actually being able to accomplish it.

Depression is a dark cloud you carry with you even on the sunniest and brightest of days.

Depression is a fog that never burns off in the sunshine.

Struggling...

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.

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.