One Step Forward, Three Steps Back

It’s days like today that make me question how I could possibly help anyone struggling with depression. Today was a particularly difficult day because I felt blindsided by the sudden bout of depression and because I found myself back in depths of significant darkness.

So, since I can’t offer any words of wisdom or healing, all I can do is tell you what I feel so if you are there now, have been there, or will be in the future, you know you aren’t alone.

Happy Thanksgiving

I’ve heard that Thanksgiving can be the most depressing time of the year, but never personally experienced it. This year when I thought about what I was thankful for in the past year, I thought about my son Declan being healed, and I thought about the time I’ve had with each of my sons.  But what struck me the most was the fact that I was here, alive. God had mercy on me so many times throughout the past year to carry me through those darkest moments of guilt, worthlessness, and sadness.

I am alive today because God gave me the strength to fight for my two sons.

It’s not every second of the day that we reflect like we do at Thanksgiving, so I was quite emotional imagining the alternative.

Being the Perfect Host

Despite those thoughts of thanks, as the weekend wore on I became more stressed, more irritable, and more overwhelmed. I just wanted to enjoy my children, to be with them, love them, and absorb every moment I could. Like with all holidays, we are surrounded by family who we defer to and allow our children the joy of bonding with. But this year, as I remembered all the time I missed with them, I felt that sense of loss so great that all I wanted was to be alone with my kids. But, as a gracious host, I powered through.

Still Holding it Together (Barely)

I should have recognized the signs when my husband, brother, and I went to the store and left the kids with my parents and I nearly had a panic attack. I am almost never away from my children and all I could think about was what if I died while we were out, I didn’t even get to spend time with them the last few days. Again, I pulled myself together and things seemed to turn out fine.

Sunday Morning

Sunday morning came and I was a mess. I felt like I was mentally spent, exhausted, emotional, and numb. All I wanted was to lay in bed without any responsibilities for others since I could barely take care of myself. Jason was more understanding than usual, and unlike most times when the boys go to church without me, I didn’t even care that I would miss out on whatever newfound wonder they would discover, I was that numb. Of course, I had pangs of guilt, but I knew I had nothing left to give. As usual I hoped that sleep would help rejuvenate my mood and for a little bit it did. I enjoyed a lunch with my family and a nap with my boys.

Depressed, Again

I don’t know what brought me back to my depression and then plummeted me even further down, but I found myself there again. Feeling hopeless, worthless, apathetic, irritable, and lonely. Things that I would usually find cute that the boys would do, was driving me crazy. At one point I even wanted to smack Rocco for constantly whining. I immediately felt regret, guilt, and worthlessness. What kind of mother wants to hit her own child? As I sat there I wondered what my sons would remember of their childhood. A miserable mother who was always short-tempered and angry? Would they wonder if I loved them? That’s when I hit the lowest of lows, thinking about how much better off they would all be without me. No one to bring them down, no one to worry about or take care of, only happiness.

I hate that I am back here again. Even as I write this I just don’t understand this horrible disease. I want so badly to be better and I worry by the time I am, it will be too late for me to enjoy my children. How do you ever get back the years you’ve lost?

So, here’s to surviving today and hoping that tomorrow is a better day.

Please know you aren’t alone.