It's time to be normal

It's been a while since I posted. However, in my defense, I thought blogger had deleted my webpage because it didn't load properly the last time I tried to get on. This blog is mainly being written for my daughters to read some day. It's more of a journal than anything else. And not one that I'm good at keeping up with. But, everyone once in a while; I will have a moment in life that just bears having record made of it.

Today is the Saturday after Thanksgiving. We had a very pleasant Thanksgiving with Liz and Josh and David. Just a small, humble gathering. We didn't get rowdy playing games or sit around a fire doing s'mores; but we did good. It was fun. With mom and dad being in Chicago there was a fear of the winter holidays being a drag. I give credit to God for giving us all a peaceful, enjoyable Thanksgiving. Nice to know we CAN survive with out the parents, when needed.

The girls and I got our tree today and set it up. This time last year marks the anniversary of my depression worsening to the point of getting on medicine again. I have upped my dose once since I got on it again last year. That is good news because that means I'm still taking a pretty small dose. This time last year I was crying uncontrollably on my couch as I sat in front of our newly lit tree and wished to have someone in my life to share it with. The girls were with their Father at the time and I wasn't living with Dave like I had the year before that. I was truly alone for the first time on a memorable day and I truly felt very alone. I remember inviting a couple friends over, all of whom couldn't come over for one reason or another. I had fallen into this downward spiral that I couldn't get out of. Finally, my mom came over and sat down with me in my living room and just listened as I expressed (rather in a hypervigilance state) how down and depressed I really was feeling. My mom insisted I get some help. Coincidentally, (or a God-thing) I had my yearly doctor's check-up that very week. When my doctor asked me how things were going and I started bawling again, she sent me to the psychiatrist right away.

So, that was what I was doing this time last year. I admit as the holiday neared, the tree was carefully picked from the rest, decorations were chosen and we began to transform the living room to the holiday spirit once again, I was became a little nervous that things would be bad again. God knew my heart and mind this year just as much as He knew it last year. He allowed the day to go exactly the way He wanted it to go. He knew I was ready for the day He was about to give me.

I thoroughly enjoyed watching the girls choose the decorations and hang them on the tree. Emma mainly just wanted to hang the tree-topper star. Jacey helped me a little with the lights, but otherwise, her favorite job was hanging the ornaments. She likes to hang them on the light bulbs instead of the branches. I just sat on the couch and watched. I didn't care or feel anxious if two blue ornaments were too close together or if the majority of the decorations were in the bottom two feet of the tree. I just watched and took pictures and enjoyed. Who cares of it's not picture perfect? The girls and I bonded, fondly. This is one thing that I think God was waiting for me to learn. The concept of "not everything has to be perfect."

The tree was up and decorated by 10 in the morning. So the day continued. The house was a mess and over the course of the last few days I was really becoming sick of it. Because it wasn't just becoming a mess over time. It was clean as a whistle one day and the next looked like a tornado went through it. In the past year and previous years before I was on meds, I wouldn't have even cared. I was so anxious all the time making me feel exhausted all the time, which made me feel depressed all the time. I simply didn't care what happened to the house. Well, this past week, for some reason I just decided enough was enough. Why did I have to live this way? Now, this question is important to remember for later on in the story. I began to assess the situation and something I had always known, became very clear to me as I did so. I have these two children who just run around the house doing whatever pleases them. They eat when they are hungry and leave the food out, they take good toys outside and lose them, they don't respect their things, they leave their clothes on the floor where ever they happen to be when they change (and mind you they are changing about 17 times a day.)

It was things like this that made me feel like a bad mother. People would sometimes tell me I was doing a good job and that my kids were doing great. I would just blow off their comments as "they are just trying to make me feel better." Because surely they wouldn't say those things if they knew what went on in my house. I started to ask myself another question. (Which is also important to remember) "Why should I let my kids rule the roost? Why can't I start making some rules and enforcing them?"

This sort of thing happened through out the week. I began to feel like "nesting" and wanted to start throwing things out left and right. Working full time and doing full-time, online schooling didn't give me much extra time to do anything. So, finally, I get this lovely 4-day weekend. I made a plan in my head of what I was going to do and how I was going to do it. Now, bear in mind, that always in the back of my head I'm dreading the start of this new life-goal because of the depression and anxiety that I'm so used to haunting my drive and sucking my energy dry. As I carried about my day yesterday and today preparing for "the new normal," I would stop every so often and take a moment to realize I still had energy. I still had my drive. I still had the gumption to complete my goals. My ideas still felt fresh in my mind. I have those thoughts after completing my various tasks and chores of the day. Yet, still in the back of my mind I would think, "Ok, that may all be true for now; but I better get this done while I can because soon the depression will settle in."

Well, we are up to-date. The girls were good about picking up some clutter around the house before we decorated the tree. So, after we decorated, they went to play outside and I got busy with the main task that was keeping me from feeling the "new norm"....laundry. Today, I literally washed every article of clothing (of the girls) that we owned (save just a handle of outfits that some how managed to stay in the drawers.) On top of that, I also washed all the blankets and bedding that was strewn about the home, for some reason. "Why did I do this?" you might ask. As I had mentioned before clothes were just being thrown every which way and staying put where ever they landed. Well, in spite of many of them being clean to begin with, there was no hope of just putting them back in the drawer now. What with all the cat and dog fur that accumulated on the floor, I had no choice but to wash them all. I stood on my feet all day by the edge of my bed folding clothes, going through all of them piece by piece and only keeping the ones that we really needed. Two big trash bags later, I had narrowed down their collection. Sure, I put on my show as I folded laundry. But, this did not keep me from noticing how badly my feet were beginning to ache and how much I would just like to sit down. As soon as one load was folded, sorted through and put away, another was dry and ready to be started on. This kept me busy until it got dark outside. I noticed the tree again as I walked in from the dryer with the last load I was planning on folding tonight. The lights were so pretty. I had that moment where I stopped to consider my state of mind. Was I depressed? Was I on the verge? I strangely felt ok. I started to feel it creep up a little bit as I considered the feeling of sitting alone in front of the tree again this year. So, I fired back by letting the girls stay up a little later than planned. We sat together on the couch silently and just watched the tree. That was enough for me.

I laid the girls down in their own beds, which was part of my "new normal" goal I was going for. I took my load of laundry into the bedroom. Jacey wasn't quite asleep yet so I decided to put off turning on my show. I didn't want to distract her from sleeping. The girls had fussed a little bit about being in their room again. After all, they had been sleeping with me every night for the last several weeks due to the various number of house guests I seemed to keep inviting into my home and regretting later. As I laid them in their beds this night they started to fuss a bit and I said, "Girls. It's time we start being like a normal family. The kind where we sleep in our own beds, we do our laundry in a timely manner and we pick up clumps of fur that are hanging out in the corners of our home." The said, "Ok and good night." ha ha

That comment I made to them, though, stopped my in my tracks, mentally. I ran another assessment of my mind to find the depression that was sure to be there after being tired, my feet aching and all these menial tasks that I would normally find so overwhelming. And I smiled on the inside. Because for as silly as I would seem to a "normal" non-depressed, non-anxious person; I wasn't feeling my usual overwhelmingness from the parts of life that were making me feel normal again. I have always preached that as a depressed person, you must accept the "new-you." When depressed you just can't do things the way you used to. I used to care about picking up the tuffs of fur. I used to enjoy laundry. I used to see a spill on the floor and clean it up right away. I no longer did those things because they genuinely felt like more than what I could handle in a day. So, the relief of discovering that I was not going to wallow in depression tonight from all I had tried to accomplish, made me feel like a victor.

If you don't currently or have never suffered from a real, honest-to-goodness, diagnosed depression then you won't think anything of this victory of mine. And that's okay. Because I have accepted that this is who I am now. I can't keep trying to compare my house and parenting skills to my mom or other moms who seem to have it all together. Every individual person deals with a variety of different things in their lives. If it isn't depression its something else. Depression happens to be my thorn in the flesh. And yes, I do grow tired of fighting back the urge to defend myself when I know another mother is judging me for the way I brought my kids to school or for the way my house looked a mess or the things I forgot to do that any normal mother would have remembered. But, I've embraced the fact that other people don't have to "get" me. God is putting me through a trial that is not understood by everyone. If I had some kind of cancer, no one would say a word about my messed up house. In fact, many would probably offer to come help me out on a weekly basis. Because people understand physical illness. It's something they can see and be sympathetic towards. Yet, my cancer, is invisible in my mind. It doesn't show on my face as I'm quite capable of carrying on a normal conversation and holding smile with a steady gaze. It doesn't show in the way I dress because I still value professionalism and want to be classy. It doesn't show in hair loss like other cancers. It doesn't show in my body with illness in my eyes. Or does it? Depressions shows in many ways in a person's life.

Here's some wisdom from my mom: an observation, which I clung to and remembered whenever I felt I like I just wasn't cutting it. "It's not normal to be ok with sending your kids to school without brushing their hair." (And I'm paraphrasing here.) "It's not normal to watch your house fall apart around you and not care enough to just do some basic pick up." My mom wasn't being mean. She was trying to understand me. She recognized, when many others don't, that, yes, something is wrong with me. And though it's not a physical illness like cancer that people can see, relate and sympathize with, it's still just as serious. Depression: the cancer of the mind, as I affectionally call it.

NOT TODAY, though! And what a relief! Remember those questions that were important to remember. I can not tell you the last time I cared enough to even make a quandary of such questions. It was like all of a sudden the depression went to sleep long enough for me to open my eyes and in astonishment think "Why am I living like this?"

As I puttered around the house and realized all the things I was doing that used to overwhelm me and make me crywere no longer bringing me down, I had no choice but to just praise God. He has brought me through so much in this last year. I think it's pretty neat of Him to celebrate the anniversary of starting meds with such a successful day. I don't plan on tomorrow being the same as today. I've lived with depression long enough to know that it doesn't go away. But, what a joy would it be if God actually saw fit to heal me of this burden. Could the "me" I used to be really ever pop up again? I try not to hope. I've accepted who I am with depression. I've accepted the tears, embarrassment, changes and looks of judgement from others. I've accepted that its a feeling I will most likely always have. So, if God works a miracle and gives me my mind back, I'll have no choice but to rejoice in His Name and serve Him more fervently. Tonight, on my anniversary with zoloft, I say "goodnight" with the Joy of the Lord in my heart and hope for tomorrow.