I am putting off cleaning my grody-pachody house because I feel the need to tell you all a few things.
1) I am feeling MUCH better. Thank you for your outpouring of support over this post. It was the first time I've actually be afraid to share myself, and you guys proved yourselves worthy of getting the truth ALL the time, like it or not. I appreciate the support, even when you didn't sometimes "get" me.
2) Thank you for reaching out to me via text messages, comments, emails and phone calls. I have never felt more cared for by a group of friends and it was just what I needed.
3) I have no doubt that the funk I was in for the last week and a half was, in fact, depression. Temporary depression, but depression nonetheless.
Knowing that, I feel compelled to share with you exactly what I was feeling. Not to make anyone feel guilty or sad, but because it was like nothing I had ever in my life felt. It was hard, and icky and painful, and I know there are thousands, if not millions, of people who feel that way every day. And yet, most of those people live their lives, day after day, with that load upon them. I cannot imagine such. 1.5 weeks was almost more than I could take.
I'm not sure what triggered my depression, probably just a culmination of many, many things. I have made friends with a new woman and her day to day living just breaks my heart on so many levels. Add that to the stress of just normal life, coupled with some disappointing discoveries and it just settled on me before I realized what was happening.
At first I thought it was just "Aunt Flo" coming for a visit. I usually get moody and cranky a few days before and it just bugs the crap out of me that I cannot control myself better than I do. Therefore, I began beating myself up over not being able to control my emotions toward my husband and my kids. I was angry, very angry and I could not hide it.
Then, I realized that I wasn't spending enough time in The Word. So, I set out to read some scripture, anything really, just to be in the word. However, I could not focus. I couldn't sit and read anything (not even blogs - which is HUGE for me people!) for more than a few minutes. I would read the same 3 or 4 words over and over and over again, yet not be able to remember what they were. I became frustrated with my "lack of love for God" and slammed by Bible shut. I continued to beat myself up over every little thing.
It wasn't long before I had dug myself a little hole and jumped right in. Everything I did hung on me like a wet blanket.
The kids were fighting with each other - therefore I must be an awful mother.
Luke got frustrated with the pile of dishes and laundry - I must be a horrible wife.
Friends weren't calling or inviting me out to dinner - I must a backstabbing, no good friend.
God wasn't hearing my casual prayers to bring me out of this pit - I must not really be important to Him.
Everything, I'm telling you, everything hung on me and I couldn't shake myself free. It felt as though I was standing in the bottom of a very deep pit, looking up at the people standing around the rim. I knew that if I could only get their attention, then they could help pull me out. The problem was that I didn't know what to say, I wasn't sure they'd understand and I didn't quite know how to get to them. So, I just sat there.
I felt lonely. Afraid. Sad. Tearful. Betrayed. Angry. Hurt. Selfish. Worthless.
If I died, would anyone even care? How easily/quickly would I be replaced? (I did not think about killing myself - just FYI - but I hear that many people suffering from depression do.)
I mean, what kind of person cannot just shake these feelings? What kind of person slips, so quickly, into this hole and cannot get out. So then, came the blame.
"STOP IT, JESSICA! Stop being so stupid! Get over yourself!" These thoughts echoed through my brain. Satan saw a foothold and took advantage.
"If people really loved you, if they really knew you, they'd come and help. If God really loved you, he'd pull you out. You're just not that important." The Enemy's whispers pushed me further into the pit.
Looking back, I can see how quickly I spiraled out of control. Keep in mind, all of this happened in a MATTER OF DAYS. Even still, I cannot believe that I felt so lost that I could not even form the words to speak to my own husband.
The only thing that I understand, the only thing I can assume pulled me out, was prayer. I finally broke down and told my BFF how I felt. She said she would pray. Then, another friend called after my post and prayed with me on the phone. By opening up and allowing myself to be vulnerable, I came through.
However, I know that there are many people who have been dealing with depression for YEARS. I cannot imagine the hopelessness they must feel, the burden, the sadness. Depression is a lonely, lonely place. I pray, with my whole heart, that if you are experiencing this that you will open up to someone, ANYONE and share your struggle.
A week and a half seemed like a month of torture. Please feel free to comment on this blog (I will open anonymous comments) or email me (beaverbunch (at) gmail . com) if you find yourself in a pit. Or, talk to your Doctor, or a trusted friend (which I know sounds ridiculous becasue you probably don't know who that person is).
The despair is lifted and the burden is gone. Thank you all for allowing me to be real, personal and free. Thank you. Thank you.
1) I am feeling MUCH better. Thank you for your outpouring of support over this post. It was the first time I've actually be afraid to share myself, and you guys proved yourselves worthy of getting the truth ALL the time, like it or not. I appreciate the support, even when you didn't sometimes "get" me.
2) Thank you for reaching out to me via text messages, comments, emails and phone calls. I have never felt more cared for by a group of friends and it was just what I needed.
3) I have no doubt that the funk I was in for the last week and a half was, in fact, depression. Temporary depression, but depression nonetheless.
Knowing that, I feel compelled to share with you exactly what I was feeling. Not to make anyone feel guilty or sad, but because it was like nothing I had ever in my life felt. It was hard, and icky and painful, and I know there are thousands, if not millions, of people who feel that way every day. And yet, most of those people live their lives, day after day, with that load upon them. I cannot imagine such. 1.5 weeks was almost more than I could take.
I'm not sure what triggered my depression, probably just a culmination of many, many things. I have made friends with a new woman and her day to day living just breaks my heart on so many levels. Add that to the stress of just normal life, coupled with some disappointing discoveries and it just settled on me before I realized what was happening.
At first I thought it was just "Aunt Flo" coming for a visit. I usually get moody and cranky a few days before and it just bugs the crap out of me that I cannot control myself better than I do. Therefore, I began beating myself up over not being able to control my emotions toward my husband and my kids. I was angry, very angry and I could not hide it.
Then, I realized that I wasn't spending enough time in The Word. So, I set out to read some scripture, anything really, just to be in the word. However, I could not focus. I couldn't sit and read anything (not even blogs - which is HUGE for me people!) for more than a few minutes. I would read the same 3 or 4 words over and over and over again, yet not be able to remember what they were. I became frustrated with my "lack of love for God" and slammed by Bible shut. I continued to beat myself up over every little thing.
It wasn't long before I had dug myself a little hole and jumped right in. Everything I did hung on me like a wet blanket.
The kids were fighting with each other - therefore I must be an awful mother.
Luke got frustrated with the pile of dishes and laundry - I must be a horrible wife.
Friends weren't calling or inviting me out to dinner - I must a backstabbing, no good friend.
God wasn't hearing my casual prayers to bring me out of this pit - I must not really be important to Him.
Everything, I'm telling you, everything hung on me and I couldn't shake myself free. It felt as though I was standing in the bottom of a very deep pit, looking up at the people standing around the rim. I knew that if I could only get their attention, then they could help pull me out. The problem was that I didn't know what to say, I wasn't sure they'd understand and I didn't quite know how to get to them. So, I just sat there.
I felt lonely. Afraid. Sad. Tearful. Betrayed. Angry. Hurt. Selfish. Worthless.
If I died, would anyone even care? How easily/quickly would I be replaced? (I did not think about killing myself - just FYI - but I hear that many people suffering from depression do.)
I mean, what kind of person cannot just shake these feelings? What kind of person slips, so quickly, into this hole and cannot get out. So then, came the blame.
"STOP IT, JESSICA! Stop being so stupid! Get over yourself!" These thoughts echoed through my brain. Satan saw a foothold and took advantage.
"If people really loved you, if they really knew you, they'd come and help. If God really loved you, he'd pull you out. You're just not that important." The Enemy's whispers pushed me further into the pit.
Looking back, I can see how quickly I spiraled out of control. Keep in mind, all of this happened in a MATTER OF DAYS. Even still, I cannot believe that I felt so lost that I could not even form the words to speak to my own husband.
The only thing that I understand, the only thing I can assume pulled me out, was prayer. I finally broke down and told my BFF how I felt. She said she would pray. Then, another friend called after my post and prayed with me on the phone. By opening up and allowing myself to be vulnerable, I came through.
However, I know that there are many people who have been dealing with depression for YEARS. I cannot imagine the hopelessness they must feel, the burden, the sadness. Depression is a lonely, lonely place. I pray, with my whole heart, that if you are experiencing this that you will open up to someone, ANYONE and share your struggle.
A week and a half seemed like a month of torture. Please feel free to comment on this blog (I will open anonymous comments) or email me (beaverbunch (at) gmail . com) if you find yourself in a pit. Or, talk to your Doctor, or a trusted friend (which I know sounds ridiculous becasue you probably don't know who that person is).
The despair is lifted and the burden is gone. Thank you all for allowing me to be real, personal and free. Thank you. Thank you.
I lift up my eyes to the hills—
where does my help come from?
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth.
Psalm 112:1-2
In my distress I called to the LORD;
I cried to my God for help.
From his temple he heard my voice;
my cry came before him, into his ears.
Psalm 18:6
I cried to my God for help.
From his temple he heard my voice;
my cry came before him, into his ears.
Psalm 18:6