Worn

I have felt the need to write this out for awhile. I have no idea why. I feel like this is all over the place and will make me sound crazy but I also feel like it is important for some reason unknown to me at this time. This is something that at the moment I battle on a daily basis. I am worn but Wednesday I feel like God told me to keep getting up. I refuse to give in. I refuse to let it take over. I refuse to let the devil win. I refuse to let him distract me from my calling. So here is my story. Here is the reason I am worn, but still finding the strength (thanks to a BIG God) to get back up.

I'm not sure when it all started. For as long as I can remember I have been fearful. I know that my first struggle with depression started on September 11, 2001. I was in 7th grade in my 2nd period class when a teacher ran into our classroom screaming and crying, "TURN ON THE TV! A PLANE CRASHED INTO THE WORLD  TRADE CENTER!!" My teacher turned on the TV and not even a minute later the second plane hit. I immediately went into a denial state. While my teacher and classmates were blaming terrorists I had convinced myself that it was an accident, and I tried to convince them too. Out of fear the school encouraged parents to pick up their kids from school early. They did. When I got home my mom had the TV on and things had gotten worse. People were jumping, buildings were falling, people were dying. Then a plane hit the Pentagon and one crash landed in Pennsylvania. My denial plan was failing big time. I began to feel this overwhelming sadness that went far beyond grief. So I slept. I know I didn't sleep for days but it felt like it. I would go to school, come home, sleep until dinner, take a shower and then sleep until school. This went on until President Bush told everyone to "move on." 

From that point on I struggled to be happy. I tried to be happy. I really did. I remember in high school having good days where I knew I should be happy, but I felt like I couldn't. My body didn't know how anymore. 

Then I met John. He helped me learn how to be happy again. Life was good. I had Toby in December 2008 and at first I felt amazing. Then out of nowhere it felt like a switch had been flipped. All I wanted was my baby. I didn't want anything to do with John, and I really didn't want him to touch "my" baby. He hadn't done anything wrong, I just didn't think he would give Toby what he needed. When Toby was 2 weeks old it got really bad. I will not put it all on here but it got so bad that I convinced myself that John and I needed to get divorced. Fortunately for me John was level headed and knew that something was wrong and didn't let that happen. We had been told about postpartum depression, but I was convinced I was invincible. John was able to help me get to a point that I knew I needed to ask for help. So I got help.**Before you read the next sentence know that I have NOTHING against people who take medications for depression. I just find it hard to confess to more than a few select people.** As hard as it is for me to admit, I got on antidepressants to help with the PPD and it did. A few months later I was able to stop taking them but after a few months I started struggling again. 

My doctor prescribed me a blood pressure medication because after gaining almost 70 pounds while pregnant I was having issues with it. We did not know it at the time but this particular medication was not good for people with a history and depression. It made me feel like I had lost my mind. I got to a point where I was depressed and anxious and fearful all at the same time. So I had to change medications. 

Then we started going to church and I realized that this depression was a stronghold on my life. I don't know where it started but I know that it was holding me back. I was determined to never need medication again.

I had Ainsley Valentine's Day 2011. On the 15th a nurse came into my room and asked me if I was doing ok. I broke down and could not be calmed down. She called my doctor and he put me back on the medication for a few months. I still struggled in the beginning and probably drove the few friends I had then crazy but I eventually felt well enough to stop taking it again. 

I made it until the end of 2012. I was put on the medication for the 3rd time and took it until I found out I was pregnant with Carson. I really wanted this time to be different. My whole pregnancy I prayed (and had others pray) that depression would not become a problem after I delivered but at the same time I decided not to breast feed just in case. (Hello, doubt.) 

The first day after I had Carson I felt great. I was handling everything well. Then he got sick. Well, I say got sick but I guess I should say we found out he was sick. (I wrote the whole story of that on here too. Check it out if you haven't already.) I cried a lot every time they told us something that was going on. John kept asking if I needed to tell my doctor and get "the medicine." He had the greatest of intentions but I was determined that I would make it this time. Other than crying a lot I did well. When Carson came home from the hospital I slowly started to feel the depression creeping in. I had a choice to make. I could fight it with every tool God had given me or I could let it take over again. I chose to not let it win. I started having this battle more and more. I started to feel like my friends were no where around, John didn't care, and that it would just be easier for everyone if my depressed self wasn't around to bring all the happy people down.

 ****I am telling everyone this because it is important to the story. NO I was not suicidal. NO I never hurt myself or ANY of my kids when I felt this way, but YES I did feel this way every time. And for those wondering, my thoughts were me dying of natural causes or in a car accident alone or something like that. More that I wanted God to do it for me because I thought it would be for the greater good. YES I realize that it sounds crazy, but what's the point in a confession without the truth?? After Toby and again after Ainsley I let myself think that for a long time. With Carson the longest I have let it go is a day.**** 

That day was this past Wednesday. That day I decided to put Carson in the nursery even though he doesn't have his shots yet, BUT I knew that I needed to be in that sanctuary that day. God had a message for me and he used Pastor Frank to deliver it. I have realized in the past 6 weeks that the Lord has put people in my life, or has exposed me to sermons and quotes and Bible verses to help me get through this. I know that I am not supposed to completely rely on people to get me through but I do believe that they are there to help. My friends help without realizing it and I cannot say that enough. Even my closest friend has no clue how much she helps me just by being there when I need someone to talk to about anything. The ministries I am in at church help and the kids that I get the honor of developing relationships with at church help.  

So there it is. The battle is real, so I hope someone is helped in some way through this. I am nothing but a depressed mess without God and the people He has placed in my life. 

"Why am I discouraged? Why is my heart so sad? I will put my hope in God! I will praise him again- my Savior and my God!" -Psalms 43:5