Depression. It isn't a pretty word. It wasn't a pretty word in the 20's and it isn't a pretty word now. I have prayed long and hard on how to describe my situation to my friends and family. It's scary being where I have been and where I am now. No amount of "self talk" helps. In your mind you know it is wrong but you can't do anything about it. Let me clarify a bit.
I love this picture. I have stared at it, studying every detail, trying to feel what she was feeling. I think I feel like her, children by my side, overwhelmed. My face is in my hand trying to keep it up because if I move it surely it would fall.
In this picture I am so tired I don't smile, I don't cry, I just sit, I can't move, I am paralyzed with pain. I am worried, my kids are hungry, I don't have the energy to feed them, I lose patience with them then feel angry at myself for losing patience. "Why" I ask myself.
My kids are feeling it now. They are losing their joy. They fight more. I sleep more. I am tired, tired of it all, but I don't know what it is exactly. Everything is always dirty. I can't keep up. I am losing faith. I feel that I am not a good mother. I am stopping. That's it. I am stopping. I can't keep going. I don't have the strength. I can't see into the future, I can't see clearly, big things I can't comprehend, so they don't even exist. Small problems are huge and unbearable. Therefore I sit, my children by my side crying, probably, and me just sitting because that is all I can manage right now.
That was me a couple weeks ago. I was sad and embarrassed but knew I needed help. My Dr. said the only way I could get the meds I needed was to be admitted to the hospital. Right away I thought I couldn't do that with all my kids, but in the same thought...how could I not. Thursday night I was admitted to the hospital where I would stay for a week to get the help and meds I needed to be Jill again. It is embarrassing to share this story, but in a way liberating.
It is me. I made it through the rain. I am on my way to being me!
