The words

I wish I had the words to describe how I feel right now. But I don’t. 

I wish I had the the words to say how conflicted. How alone. How lost I feel. But I don’t. 

The words I need aren’t here. They aren’t in my vocabulary. And I don’t know how to find them. 

I think of Little Bo Peep. She lost her sheep. She was advised to leave them alone and they’d come home. But being left alone is causing me to feel more lost. 

I’m not alone. Not really. I have a husband and four kids. Friends. Family. People who kind of get how I feel. But each person only understands a part. No one understands the whole. How can they? They aren’t me. 

I’m lost. Confused. Twisted up inside. Torn. Hurting. And there’s no bruise to explain the pain. It’s there. But there’s no tangible reason. It just exists. 

Asking me why I hurt so bad is like asking the earth why it’s round. It just is. I just do. 

And I wish I had the words to explain it. I wish I knew the reasons behind it. I wish there were words I could use to heal. 

If wishes were words maybe I would. 

Advertisements

That time I asked for help. To find I was grasping at straws

My Dr diagnosed me with ‘situational depression’ basically, it means I am depressed as a result of dealing with everything hubs is going through. My Dr is also his Dr. So he knows what he’s talking about. 

I don’t know how much of hubs stuff I’ve talked about. But, in a nutshell, he’s dealing with chronic pain, depression, and anxiety. And a year ago he was released from the military with very little support. Two years ago he was suicidal. No one took him seriously. He was told to go back in to the military Dr is the thoughts surfaced again. He just started getting help in the last 6 weeks for his depression. 

So anyway. Back to me. I’m battling depression as a result of his problems. My Dr, as great as he is, didn’t feel I needed urgent help. He didn’t feel I was suicidal. I’m not self harming. And my children aren’t at risk. All true facts. So he gave me some numbers for counselling and a prescription. And a follow up appointment. 

I called those numbers. No one is taking new patients. Or even assessing anyone. Everyone is on holidays. 

I NEED SOMEONE TO TALK TO.  

The clinic hubs sees a psychologist through has a 1 year wait list for spouses. And a 6 month wait for assessments. 

Why do I need to be ready to do something irreversible before someone will listen to me? 

I think it’s time for the system to change. 

Taking steps

A few weeks ago I mentioned that I was having a breakdown. I had the worst day I’ve ever had and it was a wake up call. 

I acknowledged that I needed help. 

This past Monday I went in and seen my family Dr. The wait for the psychiatric evaluation that I agreed to was simply too long for me. 

My family Dr and I talked for a long time. By the end of my appointment I agreed to start anti depressants. 

I acknowledged that I need help. I am strong for it. I am not weak for needing help. 

I’m going to keep telling myself that until I believe it. 

The stigmas around mental health are dragging me down. 

I seen a post today that a ‘friend’ made to Facebook that stated if a mom needs to be medicated to control her mental health she is unfit as a mother. 

It wasn’t directed to me. But it hurts. I am doing this to be a better mother to my children. I am doing this to achieve consistency in my moods. I am doing this so I can enjoy them. I m doing this to be the best me I can be. 

I am not doing this for attention. I am not doing this to imply my life is harder and I am not doing this because I am weaker then you. 

I am doing this because I need to. Because I acknowledge that I can’t do it alone. And because I am only human. 

The stigma around mental health is only making things harder for people withy mental health issues. 

It’s improving, yes. But how about we all stop making uninformed judgements on how fit I am as a mother based simply on a medication?

Counting down

I am going back to school in one more month! 

I decided I am going to take a project management program At the community college. It’s 8 courses and I have 8 years to complete them. 

I can do that. 

After I am done, I am going to take a wedding planning course. 

It’s a weekend seminar followed by 2 weeks of at home work. Finished with an exam.

I can do that too. 

I can’t wait. I’m started something amazing for myself. 

And I love that I can commit as little or as much time as I need to, to still be able to focus on hubs and the Things. They are still (and will always be) my number one priorities! 

This entry was posted on July 1, 2015. 4 Comments

What happens when…?

what happens when I reach my limit?

When I don’t know how to ask for help?

When I’m having a mental breakdown and feel alone?

Those were my thoughts Thursday. I am so glad my husband stepped in to help me. I agreed to go for a psychiatric evaluation. And discuss anti depressants with my Dr when I see him next week.

We also started using this scale thanks to a friend: 

  
On Thursday I was a 1.5. On Friday a 4. Saturday an 8. Sunday a 6. Monday a 7. Today was a 6. I don’t mind averaging a 6 or 7. I can cope. And it makes it so much easier for me to tell my husband what kind of day I’m having and he can better figure out what kind of help I need. 

I take on my depression day by day. And I am hoping to post more and more about it here. I want to take down the walls of shame I feel. Take down the walls I use to hide myself from the world. I want to heal. To be the best me I can be. 

Getting my a$$ kicked

today was supposed to be a good day. 

I was supposed to get up, go through my morning routine, get the kids bathed, clean the house and take the kids for their immunizations. 

Instead. It’s 11. The kids are bathed. And I’m still sitting in my Pajamas fighting back the tears that have been overtaking me all day. 

I can’t stop crying. I have no desire to move. I’m trying to overcome this. I’m stronger then this dammit. But instead blogging is bringing me back to tears instead of motivating me. 

I wish hubs had stayed home with me. I can’t do this guys. I can’t. 

This depression is kicking my ass. And no one wants to help me. Everywhere I reach for help there us no one there. 

I can’t keep pretending I have this together. I don’t. I don’t at all. 

Drowning 

sometimes as a mom I feel like I’m drowning. Did I say sometimes? I mean 99.6% of the time. 

Seriously. Between the attitude, hitting, pushing, back talking, and straight up ignoring me I am in way over my head. 

I don’t think I can do this. No one listens to me. 

And hubs… He’s far to busy with school to be present. He tries. I know he does and I try not to be angry. But urgh! 

I don’t know if I can do this. I just don’t know. I try. Lord knows I try. I try to be patient. To not tell. To be consistent. 

I know that I’m a good mom. I do. Deep down I know it. 

At least I keep telling myself I am. 

I just don’t know how long I can do this. Something needs to give. I need to figure out how to get through this phase.