This is a tough thing for me to write about, so bear with me.
Several years ago, while I was in college at BYU, I found myself struggling. Through some poor choices on my part, and some situations which I had no control over, I was barely keeping my head above water. I was failing my classes, constantly out of money, and deeply depressed.
It was extremely difficult to do everyday things, like get out of bed and go to class. I lost weight, I became sick more than usual; every aspect of my life was affected. I was desperately sad, and even worse than that, sure that I was worth absolutely nothing. I was certain that I would never be happy again. I was certain that I never
deserved to be happy again.
Eventually, my friends and family started to worry. My roommates suggested that I make an appointment to see the Bishop, and I was shocked. I thought I had been hiding what was going on. It was a wake up call.
I started meeting with church leaders and soon moved home to OK. From counseling, I learned that most of my problems were from a result of very low self-esteem; I had been berating myself for years. After months and months of working on myself, and with the support of my family and the love of the Lord, I started to find my happy again. Shortly after, I met Brandon, and started a new life.
I have now been married for almost 5 years, and have two of the most beautiful baby girls. In the height of my depression, I never imagined a life as wonderful as what mine is now.
But that doesn't mean that I don't still struggle now and again. As a mom of two very young children, I am often worn out physically and mentally. I have many responsibilities and sometimes feel overwhelmed.
Now, I want to clarify again, that I know my life is good. I am married to a wonderful, devoted man whose first thoughts are providing for me and our daughters. My girls are my life, my everything, my reason for being on this earth. I have a beautiful life.
But I have found myself stagnating since Margot was born. Mostly, I think I am just tired. But there are days when a little nasty voice that I remember from so long ago starts reminding me of all my failures and insecurities. These are the days that I sit on the couch in my pjs, can't seem to get the house clean and dinner made, am impatient with the girls and Brandon, and go to bed feeling horrible and bewildered. Why was I doing this? Why couldn't I be a better mom and wife?
I ran across a
blog post today by a girl who reminded me of me. She spoke about her past struggles with depression, and having bad days. She gave a few tips to help those days get a little easier, like getting up and getting dressed, making a plan for the day, and eating a good meal (it seems silly, but on the bad days, it really is hard to do these simple things).
I had a little epiphany while reading. I am allowing myself to start down a dark road again. I have struggled with depression in the past and am never going to be completely cured. I will always have bad days, and there will always be that nasty voice in there, just waiting for me to let it creep back into my daily life.
This is a new concept for me. Until now, I thought that my bout of depression was a one-time thing. A small dot on the timeline of my life. But it's not. It will always be there.
Strangely, this is a comforting thought. I know now that when I have bad days, I am not being a bad mom and wife, I'm just working through my problems and tomorrow will be better.
I am suddenly struck with the thought that maybe I have been struggling a bit more than I have let myself believe. And it's ok. I can now make goals to work on it. I can recognize my hard days for what they are, and make them better.
I am not posting this to get sympathy or anything like that. Writing for me is therapeutic, and helps me put my thoughts together. This blog also serves as a bit of a journal for me, and my mom always taught me that writing things down helps you to remember them (betcha didn't think I was listening, huh Mom? hehe).
