Depression: How Selfish!

“Mom?”  I turn around and see Hannah standing in the kitchen behind me. She has on her tennis shoes and her long blond hair in a ponytail.  It is a beautiful Saturday and she has finished all her chores.  “Can I ride my bike?”  She asks.  I immediately feel a tug of panic in my chest, but I suppress it.  “Sure.  Just stay in front of the house, so I can keep an eye on you.”  "Okay Moma.", she says as she turns and skips to the front door.  As soon as she is on the porch I walk over to the large picture window and pull up the blinds so I can see outside.  She is getting her bike out of the carport.  Off she goes down the driveway.  I watch her ride back and forth on the dead-end street for a few laps to make sure she will obey my instructions to stay in sight.  Of course she does.  She is a good kid and very patient with her…uhm…overprotective…mom.  I feel the distance between us and my mind is on high alert, but again I suppress the urge to call her in, and go back to cleaning house. 

I unload a few items out of the dishwasher and gather dirty laundry from her room.  I start to walk back through the house and stop to check on her through the window.  I can’t immediately see her and my heart starts to pound in my ears. Suddenly I see her.  A dirty white truck is pulling up to her.  She stops her bike, and in typical Hannah fashion talks in a friendly manner to the man inside.  She shakes her head and looks behind her when he points to the field.  What is he saying to her?  She puts her bike down and walks around the corner of the church out of my sight as if she is looking for something.  He opens the door and walks toward her.  She turns to face him, but just as she does he grabs her around her chest and covers her mouth.  I see the fear in her eyes.  I see that moment when all her innocence and trust turns to shear panic.  He shoves her in the truck, throws it in drive, and squeals away.  She is gone.  I start to run after the truck...What will happen to her? Will he rape her?  Will he kill her slowly?  Is she screaming for me?  I can hear her screaming, “Moma, help me!  Please!” I open my eyes. The shirt in my hand is shaking. I am nauseated and I can’t get air into my lungs. I take a deep breath, but it’s like the lower lobes of my lungs won’t fill up completely.  The band around my chest is tight. My stomach cramps and my hands are slimy from sweat. I drop the shirt on the couch and take a step towards the door as she pedals back into my sight.  I stop and take a deep breath, and for the first time it feels like air reaches the deepest parts of my lungs. My pounding heart slows just a bit.  I still feel like I might throw up.  I push the door open and she looks up at me questioning what I might need. I quickly make up a reason to stop her and talk to her for a minute. She straddles her bike while we have our brief discussion and once again pushes off to enjoy her afternoon as I return to the house reminding myself how silly I must be. 

I have lived through James’ and Hannah’s deaths hundreds of times over the years in my mind.  To be honest, my anxiety is much better managed  than it has been in the past.  Anxiety once kept me up at night imagining the worst possible scenarios from simple needed dental work to what will James and Hannah do when I die from breast cancer like my mom did.   I hate this about myself.  I have an anxiety disorder.  To be very honest this is coupled with an on again off again depression.  Some days I can wake up and the thought of facing the simplest challenges seems impossible.  I don’t want to talk to anyone. I don’t want to participate in life.  This feeling is not based off of any changing variable in my life.  My life is, as I have previously stated in another blog, perfect to me.  I have a loving Christian husband, a perfectly healthy intelligent kind caring daughter.  I live an abundant life. I do not need, nor really want, for a single thing. Most importantly, I am a saved Christian person, who has a close personal walk with God. I acknowledge God’s power and presence in my life.  I know that he is ultimately in control.  I believe in him and I pray to him daily…multiple times a day to be honest.  I give him my life fully.  I want him in charge. I want his will to be done even if I don’t comprehend it.  But, I still worry. 

I’m going to take this moment to give some well-meaning Christians out there some advice.  Telling a person with anxiety or depression that God is in control is like telling an alcoholic that drinking is a sin and it is bad for them.  We know already. Yep. Really. We do!  I know how many times God tells us in the bible to be still and not worry.  I know that despite all the “silly worrying” that I have absolutely no control over anything that God has planned for me. What will be…will indeed be.  I know! For the most part there is no need to remind someone with anxiety or depression of this fact.  They. Know.   Often times these loving reminders just cause more anxiety and guilt.  I mean he is God.  Why can't I trust him.  Am I not a good Christian?  Am I really not saved if I don’t have this constant peace all the real Christians have?  I can’t tell you how many times I have cried out to God to take away my anxiety and depression.  I have prayed prayers for trust in him.  God and I...well... we have had many talks about my anxiety, way before you had the bright idea that I just need to “trust in him”.  Promise.  That may sound harsh, but I just want everyone to understand that it is really not a choice to be this way.  You should all know how much I believe in self-empowerment. I believe in taking charge and being in control of healthy choices.  The only choice I have in the matter of anxiety and depression is to use the tools given to me to live a healthy full life despite it. Also, please know that I understand, sometimes as Christians "trust in him" is just the most comforting thing we know to say to someone when there is nothing else to say. I am guilt of this too. But when dealing with an ongoing issue like anxiety the choice to trust is just not that simple.

Depression is different than anxiety for me.  My anxiety is present daily.  Depression comes and goes. I may wake up in the morning and just be off a little.  When I was younger I didn’t even have the self-awareness to realize when a bout of depression was about to hit. Now I can identify those feelings better. In my personal experience depression feels like slipping and falling in slow motion.  Despite how hard I try I can't stop it and I can’t get my balance to stand back up. My body will feel physically tired and my mind just a little foggy.  There is a loss of excitement and anticipation about things to come that day.  I will go through the motions of getting ready, cooking breakfast, smiling and joking with Hannah and James, but inside I will feel like I could just cry at any moment. I recall the sad moments from my past easier and I tend to dwell on them more.  It is selfish because during this time I tend to feel sorrier for myself due to all the horrible things that happened to me in my life. I recount them and the anger and sadness seeps back into my heart momentarily.  The ride to work will seem overly quiet and, despite the sunshine, the world outside my windshield will seem just a little overcast. People that I interact with would never know that I am struggling with anything.  I continue on this path... Sometimes for a few days, sometimes a few weeks, and sometimes it hangs around for months.  It doesn’t stop me from living. I am still present and find enjoyment in life…I’m just engaged in an internal battle to not let it grab me and pull me under.  That happened in my younger years, and it was something that even I can’t put on paper.  At this moment I can’t articulate how it felt to let depression momentarily win.  Maybe a future blog post... 

People who don’t know me well, would never dream that I suffer from depression. There are a handful of people who KNOW me and I trust deeply.  They are the ones who typically see me during these moments, and softly say, “You okay?” because they can tell I am not truly myself.  I hide it very well.  I hide it for the same reason others with depression hide it.  There is a stigma and it makes others uncomfortable around you.  A lot of people feel like you can and should control your emotions.  You know... suck it up and deal with life.  Those are the same people who feel like alcoholics should just not put themselves in the  situation that leads to drinking and fat people need to push away from the table.  Well, I'm not sure if anything I can say here will change that view.  I can say that I can't comprehend why an alcoholic needs a drink.  I don’t struggle with it, so it easy for me to judge.  I can't know what everyone struggles with, but I know that most everyone has something.  Just remember to be kind and use some empathy.  Before you throw a blanket statement out there about depression or suicide take a moment to sit down with someone and understand their mind and their heart.  I have read some really nasty comments about the suicide of Robin Williams.  No one chooses depression and no one with a healthy mind chooses suicide.  It may seem selfish to you that someone would be sick enough to take their own life without regard to their family's feelings, but most people who have attempted suicide and did not succeed will tell you that they honestly thought their family and the world would be better in general without them here on Earth.  It is a mindset that you possibly can't understand, but should speak gently about unless you do understand it.

Now most of my friends and acquaintances know about my anxiety.  Most chalk it up to being a helicopter mom, which I am, and slightly OCD...which I am!  Being an OCD helicopter mom is easier than having anxiety disorder.  It is not uncomfortable for people.  A few jokes can be made about how I clean too much and I watch over Hannah a little too close.  People often envy the energy that my anxiety requires.  You see...a person with a busy mind must stay busy, hence the really clean house.   If I am scrubbing base boards and making tortillas from scratch I am not imaging my husband’s untimely death and how I would tell our daughter he is never coming home. I don’t have to imagine what it would be like to sleep in our bed without him, and so on.  I assume you understand what I am saying here.  It is a coping mechanism.  I suppose it is healthy enough to be a busy body. I haven't caused harm to my family yet outside of some additional calories from my homemade baked goodies.

It took many years for me to fully understand my anxiety and depression, many more to get a somewhat healthy handle on both of them, and even more to realize that they are just a part of who I am.  For better or worse I will always struggle with them.  Some days are better than others, but I refuse to let them dictate my life.  I will do my best to live in the present and make good choices to ensure they don’t  interfere with this perfect little life of mine.  I say they are part of the perfection.  After all I wouldn’t be who I am today without them and lets face it...I am a darn good mom and wife.  I'm not too shabby at my career either.  It's just yet another choice I make to let my uniqueness make me a better person.  Trust me I don’t feel this positive every second of everyday, but I am the majority of the time and that will just have to be enough.

If you suffer from depression please know that you are not alone.  Know that you are not broken or less of a person.  Know that this world is a better place because you are in it.  Know that someone is happier and whole because you are a part of their life. Don’t be afraid to admit that something is not right and seek help for it.  It is simply a small piece of the bigger part that makes you who you are.  You can use your life and your struggle to better yourself and shine a light on someone else in the darkness.  God intended for us to use our testimony.  He loves you even when you think you should be "better" and "trust him".  He made you just how you are and he has equipped you to overcome and reach out. That is the definition of evangelism. Turn something you think is awful into something powerful.  You do have a say in all this.

The Perfect Life I Have Chosen to Live

I wake up to the soft light peering through my bedroom window and shut my eyes back closed again.  I think to myself, I need to get up… I’m not a morning person so I lie very still and drift back to sleep.  I hear my husband’s alarm go off on his phone and feel the bed move as he hits snooze.  My Yorkie is now dancing around on the hardwood below letting us know he is ready to go outside.  I finally get my eyes to open fully and turn over to see my husband.  He is really beautiful.  I especially love him in the mornings.  He is so warm and soft, and he smells like fresh linen and what I can only imagine to be heaven.  I scoot beside him and put my hand on his chest.  I take a minute to just feel his chest rise and fall while I say a prayer over him for the day.  I doubt he even knows I do this most days we wake up together.  He is my center and my peace on this Earth.  He is the one person that I know I can always turn to and count on.  He is loving and patient, but brutally honest with me.  He is exactly what I need in this life. I kiss his stubbly check and decide to get out of the bed. 

I slip on my favorite ratty pink robe, slip on my navy blue house shoes that have unraveling gray bows, and head to the kitchen.  I look around our little home and I feel at peace.  I love our house.  James and I spent many years making it just the way we wanted it.  All of my favorite things are situated just where I want them, neat and tidy.  I walk down the hall and yell at my pre-teen daughter to get up.  This is not a place for gentleness in my life. She is a beast in the morning! I can’t show fear. I walk back to the kitchen and begin making breakfast for my family and brewing me a cup of coffee.  I use this time to talk to God about my day.  I pray over Hannah and ask God to protect her and guide her through her day. I hate all the darkness in our world that has been accepted as the “norm”. Her mind is young and impressionable. I want so badly for her to never make a mistake, but I know this is not reasonable and she will make plenty of them.  My prayer is that I teach her the important things and she always feels like she can talk to me about anything.

I crack an egg and drop its contents into the hot skillet as I yell out a second warning to Hannah to get out of bed. I hear her moan back at me.  I push down two pieces of toast and watch the red hot heat begin to crisp the bread.  James walks into living area and heads straight to the back door to let the yelping Yorkie back into the house. He follows behind them into the kitchen.  I feel his hand on back my back as he reaches around me for his prescriptions.  He says, “That smells good.  Is your child up yet?”  We always refer to her as the other person’s child when she is being difficult.  I smile and say, “Of course not.”  He turns quickly and heads down the hall to her room banging on the walls and yelling her name to a made up annoying tune. I hear her protest by moaning loudly, “I’m up Dad!”  She shifts her feet slowly to the bathroom.  I hear her bathroom door shut and I yell, “Hannah! Brush your teeth!”  I think to myself, why do I still have to remind an 11 year old to brush her teeth? I run my tongue across my back teeth and feel the crowns that cap my damaged teeth and wish someone would have reminded me as a child.  But this is part of what I love about being her mom, and being a wife.  I love taking care of these two and offering them all of the love they deserve.  They give me so much back, so much that I feel I don’t deserve.  I don’t deserve this life.  This life is amazing! It is…well…it is perfect.  Why do I feel so bad saying that?  Why am I supposed to feel bad for verbalizing that this life is perfect to ME?  It is.

I have written a lot about my childhood.  Most that know my story know that life then was very different than life now.  I think many times that the simple perfection I see in this life I live is pure perspective and the humility that perspective instills.

 

per·fect- adjective ˈpərfikt/:  having all the required or desirable elements, qualities, or characteristics; as good as it is possible to be.

This word describes my existence perfectly, no pun intended! My life has all the required and desirable elements.  It is as good as it is possible to be.  I have lived through times of want and even times of need.  I have survived with less than was required; much less desirable.  I know what it is like to be unhappy.  There was a time in my life when I thought that was the only option in life.  Option. Now, there is a word.  This word brings me to my point.  Life is basically options.  Every single choice you make has a consequence.  You choose to finish high school with good grades. You choose to attend college or enter the workforce after high school. You choose the person you want to marry.  You choose to have children.  You choose your faith and how you will live and respect it.  You choose to go to work every day and how you will perform your task.  You choose the type of marriage you will have.  You choose how you will raise your children, and so on onto every tiny detail of your existence.  The thing that many people don’t realize is that you are free to make any choice you see fit, but you will always face the consequences of those choices. 

My poor daughter gets this lecture more than most children probably do. From the tiny cavity she had filled to the first F she received for not turning in an assignment in the 5^th grade. Every time something “bad” happens I am quick to remind her of the choice she made that landed her in hot water. I’m sure she silently thinks, This again… Sigh!  But, I will continue to remind her that she is in complete control of her destiny.  One of my biggest peeves is when people use the scripture that God is in control as an excuse.  God is in control, but he expects you to do your part.  Don’t pray for God to bless your finances and CHOOSE not draw up a budget. Don’t ask God to bless your marriage and CHOOSE to be a disrespectful spouse.  Don’t ask God to lead your family and CHOOSE to put yourself in places where you are easily tempted to stray from his plan. God did not make you to be a mindless person in this world he made you with freewill.

Looking back over my life with James I get frustrated and sometimes downright tickled at the bad choices we made when we were younger (sometimes at the ones we still make today).  I know that life could have been so much easier had we not fought ourselves along the way.  We created so much financial burden that did not have to exist. I remember sitting up at night with burdens heavy on my mind, occupying the space that God should have held.  In those moments I should have realized this truth, but it would take many years before I would come to understand the effect this had on me as an individual, and my family as a whole.  Finances alone were not the only bad choices I made. 

Let me just go ahead and say I wasn’t the easiest person to love.  My husband just read this and shouted a silent AMEN! I was hell on wheels.  I had been raised in an inconsistent chaotic, sometimes very unloving environment, so I didn’t know. I. Just. Didn’t. Know.  You know what I mean.  I was an immature scared little know it all.  When I took my vows before God I had probably never even read what the scripture said about being a wife, but my husband CHOSE to love me and see past what I was.  He fulfilled his role as husband and taught me what it meant to truly love a spouse…to love another human being.  Over the years with prayer I have CHOSEN to learn how to control my temper and my mouth (most days). My mother cussed like a sailor and unfortunately those words slip from my tongue so easily…  I have learned what it means to receive unconditional love and give it right back to those around me. It’s tough to make the right choices, but when you do you are at peace and that is priceless.  In my opinion peace is worth sharing. 

I always tell Hannah (and myself) the hardest person to be honest with is yourself.  No one wants to think they are doing anything “wrong”.  It is hard to see ourselves as anything other than loving intelligent beings, but the harsh truth is we aren’t sometimes.  It’s okay to slip and fall every now and again, heck I feel like I do it daily.  What matters is that you are honest with yourself and CHOOSE better for yourself.  James and I just recently were talking about how lazy we have gotten about Sunday School. We don’t HAVE to go to Sunday School. It is not required by anyone, but we CHOOSE to do so in order to learn about God and grow in him.  It matters to us to grow in our faith and to share it with Hannah. How can we teach her to follow God if we are unsure of our own faith? We can’t.  

Somewhere along the way of getting lazy we both drifted away from God just a little. Not necessarily because of Sunday School…that was really just an example.  We drifted in our personal walks and we felt it! We were moodier and more anxious about things.  We weren’t as attentive to our budget. Just small things that we know we do, and weren’t doing.  It took some real moments over the past few months with each other where we were both accountable and CHOSE to get back to where we need to be as individuals, a couple, and a family. The good thing about being a Christian is that you serve a God that doesn’t give up on you…even when he should.

So yes, my life is perfect to me.  I made a very important series of decisions over many days that added up to years.  I slipped and fell. I prayed and got back up with God’s help.  My life could have gone many directions.  I could have blamed the outcome on bad choices my parents made, but in the end there are no excuses for your life outside of what you choose to make it. The important thing to remember is happiness truly does not come from anything outside of you…it is what lives in you.  If you truly have God in your heart he does use the Holy Spirit to convict your choices.  You find yourself content with things, because you aren’t searching for what is missing…what is out of place. We were created for God to live in our hearts…not to be without fault, but to realize when we are and to not be okay with it.  We were made to live in his likeness and that is where our soul will always find peace.

So my perfect life that I have chosen is really not in the things outside of me. It is not my very good looking husband, my beautiful daughter, our perfectly decorated little home.  It is not in my savings or checking accounts. It is not in the cars we drive.  It is his presence that lives inside of me, inside of James and Hannah.  It is his peace that resides in us as a family that allows life to have the required or desirable elements, qualities, or characteristics. He makes it as good as it is can possibly be! I know this because there are many people with more than what I have without peace.  There are people with less that still have contentment despite their circumstances. The world around us can change, but when we are centered in him we aren’t as shaken.

The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps. ~ Proverbs 16:9 (ESV)