Signing off for a bit..

My heart feels heavy lately. I don't know if I can really find the words to explain it.

I look at my Facebook memories and I see 9+ years. But 9+ years of what? At first, MySpace and Facebook were a fun addition to life. I could chat with friends after I came home from school. I could share pictures and, at first, it felt like a way I could say the things I didn't have the courage to say in person.

But now, it just feels like a facade that I hide behind. Bluntly, social media has been devastating to my anxiety, depression, self-esteem and confidence. It has been devastating because I have allowed it to be.

I need some time to get away and clear my mind, so I am signing off for a bit. I need my real life back. I need myself back.

Likes do not make me a good person.

A beautiful face, a beautiful picture do not equate to a beautiful soul.

Arguing over issues from behind a keyboard has not changed anyone's mind in the history of EVER.

I am still passionate about the issues and movements that mean a lot to me, but I have been using the wrong platform.

Posting a status about it does not help the problem.

Gloating about my accomplishments and receiving "cyber praise" does not make me feel better about who I am.

Comparing myself to other mothers online does not make me a better mother.

It is a platform that is meant to show the surface, but I long for the depths of life.

We all have good intentions. But for me, it has been destructive. And I need a break. I long for more friendships. True, wholesome, raw friendships and relationships. I have unknowingly and unintentionally consumed my life with a social platform that has brought very little positivity into my life. I have used it as a crutch for my general and social anxiety for far too long. And now I feel that I can't get those years back.

Please call me, please text me, please show up to my house. If you run into me, please come up and chat. Please hang out with me. I want the realness and rawness back in my life.

I'm ready for a change.

Thursday Thoughts

Did your mom ever tell you, "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all"? She was right, and talking nicely also applies when you're talking to yourself, even inside your head.

Just yesterday, my brother was telling everyone about the time my daughter said, "I look so beautiful. Tell me how beautiful I look!" And even though it gave us all a good laugh, I wish I could take that confidence, save it all up and somehow keep her from ever letting go of that. Ever.

As a parent, one of my biggest fears is watching my child go through the same things that I struggled with. As I watch this world become colder and more critical, I want to ignite a confidence in my child that can't be dulled. No matter what anyone has to say to her.

More important than confidence, though, I want to instill in her a a genuine sense of self-awareness. For when you are self-aware, you truly can't be cut down by the words and thoughts of others. When you know your strengths and weaknesses intimately, you can take pride in what you do well and work on the things you lack. When you know yourself, others' perceptions of you cease to matter. This is what I want--for myself, for my daughter, for everyone. No one's words can hurt worse than the ones you tell yourself, so speak kindly and honestly.

"It all begins and ends in your mind. What you give power to, has power over you." --Leon Brown

Untitled

I've spent a long time going back and forth on whether I wanted to publish this post or not. I have felt embarrassed, ashamed and weak. I finally decided that I'm just going to put it all out there because a) I have no reason to be ashamed and b) if there is even the slightest chance that I can help someone going through a similar situation, I am JUMPING at the chance.

I've dealt with depression for years. I've always been pretty open about it. I've mentioned it a few times in previous posts. It has been a part of who I am for as long as I can remember. Up until a few months ago, my depression was ~sufferable but endurable~. I lived with it. It got hard sometimes, I struggled through. I cried a lot. Felt completely numb other times. Was exhausted, always. And I had many, many times that I felt I just wanted to die.

In November, I was admitted to the hospital for four days because I was suicidal. I hit a new low that I had never even fathomed before. I did NOT want to endure the pain of living for a single second longer. In my mind, there was absolutely NO chance that things could get better.

I felt doomed. Like there was absolutely no hope.

I felt guilty. I would tell myself, "This is against my religion. This is a sin. This is wrong. I am a bad person for having these thoughts. Only bad people find solace in death."

I felt like a failure as a parent. I felt like my daughter was better off without me, that she deserved a mother who could be more present, a mother that could be happy, like I was "supposed to be."

I felt defeated. So unmotivated that I didn't even want to move.

I felt selfish. Like I was letting my daughter down. Spending too much time worrying about myself.
I felt ungrateful. I knew I had a wonderful life and so many things to be thankful for and happy about.

I felt embarrassed. I felt weak. I felt like I was less of a person because I had "allowed myself to get so bad."

To make a long story semi-short, I spent four days in the hospital with no connection to the outside world whatsoever, aside from my Mom coming to visit me during the evening visiting hours. I fought it, I had no desire to stay. I had no faith that any of it was going to get better. My loved ones pushed me to stay and take care of myself. It was, by far, the hardest thing emotionally, that I have ever been through. But it was, EASILY, the most important thing I have EVER done for myself. The doctors took amazing care of me, and got me to the point that my depression is now manageable.

However, my whole experience still leaves me feeling a bit uneasy--and here's why: The stigma of depression and other mental illnesses is just unreal. If someone is in the hospital with a broken leg, they receive an outpouring of love and support. When someone suffers with depression, the fact that the sickness cannot be seen seems to give people the idea that it is make-believe.

I have a chemical imbalance in my brain.
I didn't DO anything to myself to create this chemical imbalance.
I am not less of a person because my brain's chemicals are imbalanced.
I am not looking for pity or attention because the chemicals in my brain are imbalanced.

At a time when people NEED love and support more than ever, they are met with shame and embarrassment. I am blessed beyond words because I have a wonderful, wonderful family and a few, select friends who have been overwhelmingly supportive. My fear is for the people who don't have that support. Because, even when you do have it, battling depression is still excruciating. Belittling what someone is going through just because their illness is not physical or visible is WRONG. More importantly, it cultivates the stigma and makes it harder for all of those dealing with depression to recover or even just treat it.

I hope this post is not met with any ill understanding, because I am just hoping to give light to an issue that I have dealt with (and continue to deal with), personally. Though my hope is that I will never have to see anyone in my life go through these things, I want to use this as an opportunity to share my hope to help anyone, in absolutely any way I can.

xoxo

"Happiness. Not in another place, but this place..

...Not for another hour, but this hour." --Walt Whitman

Too many times in my life have I waited and waited for the "big day" to find happiness. I'll be happy if I can just graduate. I'll be happy if I can just get a job. I'll be happy if I just have a clean house.

Today I was driving home from the store. Dave Matthews Band was playing on the radio, the windows were down and I looked in the rearview mirror at a smiling May, reading her new Barbie book in the back seat. I thought to myself--this is it. This is pure happiness. This is what it's all about.

For me, it's the moment when the Keurig starts to gurgle, signaling a full fresh cup. It's the moment when Maylene says to me, "I knew you could do it, mom. My mama never gives up!" (talk about a heart melter). It's lying down in freshly clean sheets. It's feeling the grass under bare feet. It's the pains you get in your stomach from laughing too hard. For me, happiness is finding the pure, unadulterated beauty in the little moments. Looking back, it's easy to see. My hope is to recognize these moments more frequently and to bask in them for as long as I can. For, too often, I'm looking to the future instead of embracing what I have right now. And that, my friends, is a very full, good life.

To The Person Who Has Never Lived With Depression: a PSA

There are just a few things that us, the collective "us," want you to know about our depression:

We would like you to stop telling us to be thankful for what we have. Being depressed doesn't mean we aren't thankful for our lives, our families, our friends, our homes, our belongings, etc. In fact, we feel things in such a way that we are so thankful for these blessings that sometimes we feel a heavy sense of guilt and undeserving. Our appreciation for the more meaningful things in life is sometimes the source of, and not the remedy for our depression.

We are going to push you away. We are going to test the limits of your love. We want to know how much we mean to our loved ones, we think it defines our worth. We wish we didn't have to be this way.

We have good days, too. We laugh, we smile, we joke. It doesn't mean the depression is "cured" or gone. It just means that maybe that day had clouds, but no rain.

I'm going to say it bluntly--sometimes being alive is exhausting. When your mind is endlessly running a million miles per hour, it is mentally draining. Every movement can be a stressor. Conversations can be overwhelming.

We're sick of being embarrassed and ashamed of something that we have little to no control over.

We're so glad that you're happy. Though we might be jealous of your happiness, we want you, more than anything, to be happy. Never in a million years would we wish you to feel the same as we do. We wouldn't wish it on our worst enemies. Though, all we want is someone to care enough to try to understand, try to understand that this is real.

And try to understand that we are trying. Every day, we are trying.

Just me

Recently, I was at the dentist's office with Maylene when the hygienist came out to bring us back, she questioned me, "is it just you with Maylene today?" I've gotten that a lot over the years. Signing up for parents' night at the preschool. Watching, by myself, at ballet class. Doctor's appointments. Hair cuts. Heck, being the only one who was alone, at nine months pregnant, for my birthing class. It's always been "just me."

I surely don't mean to say I haven't had help. I certainly have. And I certainly wouldn't have made it this far without all of the help, love and support from my family and friends. At least, not without losing all of my hair.

But it's always had a negative connotation. "Just" me. For anyone who doesn't know, deciding to become a single parent was THE single hardest decision I've ever made in my life. By a long shot. I still struggle with it often. But I don't regret it. Sometimes, the traditional way just doesn't happen. Sometimes, that's not what is best for everyone, most importantly the child. I had to come to terms with the fact that I wouldn't be living my teenage fairy tale. Getting happily married, buying a house, having children. Just like anyone else, that was the order in which I pictured it.

But you know what? Life happens. And that's okay with me. I wouldn't have the deep appreciation for life, love, family, friends, education and money if life didn't happen the way that it did. And though I question and pray everyday that this path is what is best for Maylene, I know that it is. However non-traditional or non-ideal it may be, this is our life and we are happy with it.

I am happy that it is "just me" who gets to put her to bed at night and wake her up in the morning. I am happy that it is "just me" who gets to share the big smiles with her. And wipe away all of her tears. I am happy that I am the one she wakes up at 3AM when she has a bad dream. I am happy to deal with all of the whining and the tantrums. I am happy to hear her giggling in the backseat. I am happy that, in just 28 days, I will graduate from college and finally be able to give her the life she deserves. I am happy that she has shown "just me" the true importance of life.

"The Only Way Out is Through"

I am not someone who sugarcoats things. I am a realist. Life is a roller coaster. Sometimes, there are bad times. Sometimes, there is pain and suffering. And I believe that, sometimes, the only way to get out is to take some time for mourning. People never want to tell you that. Because being anything other than constantly happy is a sign of weakness in our world. But I, for one, would never have gotten where I am now without all of my lows: learning from them, and moving on. And I expect to have many more. Just as I expect to have many more high points in my life. I think the hardest part about feeling low is wondering whether things will ever get better. There is also a difference between recognizing a hard time and dwelling on a hard time. I know, better than most, that it's not always easy to avoid the latter.

I thought I would share some things that have really helped me when I am feeling low. Some little, some bigger. They don't always work. And sometimes it's a push to get myself to do anything at all. Though these things are based on my personality and my own personal preferences, I think the common theme is that we need to slow down, step back, breathe, rationalize and practice some self care. I know I've talked about some of these things before but I'm gonna talk about them again.

Here they are:

Maylene in a tree pose

• Stepping outside and taking 3 minutes to breathe. Just breathe. No thinking, no worrying, no planning. Just breathing.
• Yoga. Staying calm is not one of my strengths. To say the least. But yoga has helped me with this tremendously. I also love yoga because it is a non-competitive way of challenging yourself. I'm proud of myself when I'm able to get into/hold poses that I wasn't able to before.
• Coffee dates with Maylene. I am going to be honest, I still struggle with taking time at home to set everything aside and give my daughter the attention she deserves. Our frequent coffee/hot chocolate dates give me a removed environment that allows me some peace of mind. I put my phone away (except for the occasional picture, of course), try to put my thoughts away and give her my full attention.
• Bike rides or hikes. That's a given. The older I get, the more I appreciate the beauty of nature. I breathe better when I'm outside. And the vastness of the wilderness reminds me that most of my problems are small and trivial in comparison.
• Reading. It takes my mind elsewhere.
• Writing. It gets all of my thoughts out of my mind and onto paper. Which can easily be set on fire. And burned.
• Thought replacement. I analyze some of my reoccurring thoughts, break them down and work to replace them with something that is more rational, realistic or positive.
• Turn up the music and dance or sing. Let it all out.
• Replace coffee with tea. Most of the time, I need coffee. But sometimes, the wired effect heightens all of my emotions and quickly turns into panic. Tea wakes me up and comforts me at the same time. 

There are plenty more, but those are some of my favorites.
Trick-or-treating tonight! I will try to share some pictures later this week. Pretty excited about the costumes I have up my sleeve.

xoxo,

M

Mama and May yoga class

Wheel pose