Depression, Part 2

Many people around someone struggling with depression end up frustrated because you can't "fix" us. Don't try to fix me: I'm not a broken toy to be fixed. Trying to fix me only adds to the feeling of not being "good enough," because I'm not in the best shape. Just be there for me: someone to lean on when I'm not strong, & a shoulder to cry on, to let me know I don't have to go through it alone. You can't fix me, but you can help me by not making it worse: do not yell or snip in frustration, because this makes it worse. I already feel like I'm not good enough,  so I don't need the reminder. Please be patient, & with your support & prayers,  I will find my way out of this hole, even if it's not in the timing either of us would prefer.

Depression Is Real

People don't usually share openly about depression... I certainly haven't talked to very many people about it, but those who knew me growing up probably know a little bit about the depression I have fought over the years. It went in waves, "triggered" by events in my life. People that have been through this kind of depression know that you can't just "snap out of it." As much as you want to, you can't find your way out of the deep chasm without help. The problem compounds when you're afraid to ask for help.

A few years ago, I was fighting depression because of infertility. I didn't talk to people about it because it "was none of their business." It annoyed me when the few people that knew about the situation kept asking for details about how it was going. (By the way, it still annoys me if anyone asks about my reproductive system.) While all of this was going on, we had a huge fight with some people & lost some very close friends because we refused to choose sides in their fight, & they interpreted that as choosing the wrong side. A handful of people at church had been involved in thw whole thing and also treated us like we had taken the wrong side, without even asking why we made the decision we did, (which for the record, was because people chose sides with my family, whether they knew both sides or not, which can devastate a child's relationship with one or both parents and ruin any or all friendships the parents had). As a result of what people assumed of us, I stopped trusting pretty much everyone at church with the exception of a few. I became paranoid & wouldn't talk to anyone about my problems,  even most of my family. Having built up these feelings before getting pregnant with my first baby, it carried over to severe post partum depression that I wouldn't admit I had. I couldn't figure out why I was depressed when I finally had the baby I had prayed for over four and a half years to receive. I couldn't ask for help because I didn't trust anyone. I barely told my husband what I was feeling,  because I was afraid he would tell Mom & Dad, & I was just sure I would get nothing but judgment from anyone but DH after what had happened with the fight that made me not trust anyone.

Fast forward 13 1/2 months from the birth of my "Faith baby"... I was "late" & scared that I might be pregnant. I kept asking myself "why are you scared?" then "what would dh say?" & "what would Mom & Dad say?" After I found out for sure, I was scared to tell them. I was shaking when I told hubby. All that fear was part of the paranoia that came with the PPD that I wouldn't admit I had & get help for. Throughout this pregnancy,  I dealt with bouts of unexplained rage, uncontrollable weeping, the all too familiar fear of abandonment, & more & more distrust of others, especially those in leadership. I was struggling between wanting to crawl into a shell & knowing I shouldn't. When I found out I was having another boy, & not the girl I was sure I was going to have, I was crushed & depressed, then felt guilty about the disappointment, & afraid that he would sense the disappointment when he was born.

When baby was born, I was relieved that all of those feelings went away, then 3 weeks later, out of the blue, they started coming back. This time, I knew I could talk to people about it. I went to a friend that had offered her help when she must have seen the signs when I was pregnant, then I got up enough courage to post some things on FB without coming right out and saying it. I was thankful when a couple of people recognised it as a cry for help. A couple of weeks later, I made myself go to one more couple that I hadn't trusted in about 3 years because of the paranoia. I'm glad I did.

Blessed Be Your Name by Matt Redman & Blessings by Laura Story are two songs that carried me through the years of infertility for different reasons. Today, they are victory songs for me. Both songs came to mind after I put my boys down for a nap. They brought a peaceful calm over me, & I was able to smile - really smile for the first time in a while. I still have a long road ahead of me with ups and downs, but now the up days & moments truly feel "up."

The reason I am sharing this is in the hopes that it can help someone. I have a few people in mind that I hope I can help, but won't name, so they can keep their privacy.