Let's start at the beginning. When I was about 12, I noticed that I didn't enjoy things that I used to, like playing football with my friends in their front yard. I figured it was just the fact that I was growing up, and that was childish. I also became a lot more secluded and anti-social. Once again, I was growing up, and things were a little bit confusing.
Down the road a couple of years, I wasn't eating as well, and I had headaches all the time. I also had trouble sleeping. The headaches got so bad that I ended up getting an MRI, thinking that maybe I had some kind of brain tumor or something. When I got the results that nothing was wrong, I decided to just pretend I didn't have headaches anymore. I realized that they were mostly from not eating lunch every day, so they got better. But, things weren't great. I got obsessed with things and was never happy enough with what I had.
Fast forward to high school. I had a best friend who told me that she didn't like to hang out with me anymore, because I wasn't ever happy. It was at that point that I knew she was right, but was so mad at her for telling me that I wasn't happy enough for her.
So, if I'm not happy enough, how do I change that? Unfortunately, I never really figured that out. However, I did get pretty darn good at faking it. I started smiling more, even though I didn't feel like it. I went out with friends even when I didn't feel like it. I wish I could say that it solved my problem. I wish I could say that it was mind over matter and that I "smiled" my way out of my depression. There were so many times that I heard "pray" or "do what's right" and that it would all be okay. Well, it wasn't okay, and I didn't know how to tell anyone else why or how it wasn't okay. I didn't know how to tell anyone, especially my parents, that I didn't know how to be happy.
One night I had a break down, and I told one of my friends. It was the first time I had really admitted to myself or anyone else that I thought I had depression. But, I still didn't know what to do about it. So, I went on with my life. I just kept on living my life as before. Don't get me wrong, I was happy sometimes, and I had fun times, but my happiness often was contingent on how things were going with friends, or whether I had a boyfriend, or how difficult/easy my school work was. I found a lot of people and things to blame my unhappiness on. I also wasn't getting enough sleep, which didn't help things at all.
I learned to live with my depression. I thought that it was just who I was and there was nothing to be done about it. When I met my husband and marriage was coming up, I was happy. I thought that this is what I had been waiting for. Now I could be happy. Then I started having panic attacks. I was stressed about getting married, after all, to me, marriage is a one-time thing. And it doesn't just last "'till death do you part." For me, marriage is eternal, and this is not something I wanted to mess up. So, even though I found a wonderful man, and I was sure he was the man that I should marry, I had a few panic attacks along the way. I was only 18, and my parents didn't seem thrilled about my choice, so it would have made it relatively easy to back out. But, I didn't. And 10 years later, I am so happy that I made the right choice.
After we were married, I quickly got pregnant with our first child. We were thrilled. Although my pregnancy wasn't easy, I couldn't complain. I knew too many women who had it far worse than I did. It was after the baby was born that it really got bad.
I had major postpartum depression. I didn't ever admit it to anyone else, because I was supposed to be so excited about my new baby and how precious he was. I wasn't supposed to feel like I wished I had never had him. I didn't want to be a mom. I could barely get up and get dressed every day. Now I was in charge of this little person, who I loved so much, but sometimes my brain didn't correspond with my heart. Of course, after a few months it got better, and I just learned to deal with the times when it wasn't better.
Then I had a second child. Once again, I had postpartum depression, but I was much more prepared for the demands of a new baby, and things seemed to go better. However, when he was just a few months old, my two-year-old was driving me crazy, hubby and I were both going to school, and I found myself yelling at the kids a lot.
A few months later, and hubby wasn't doing too well with his job, so he started looking for something new. He told me he was going to go to the military recruiting office. I thought he was crazy. What happened when he came back was even more crazy. He actually wanted to join the Army. At first it was just the reserves or maybe the national guard, but after a day or so, he wanted to join as an active duty soldier. Two weeks later he was off to Basic Training. It was a whirlwind few weeks, but we felt like it was the right decision, so there we were.
This is when things really started to change. We hadn't been away from each other for more than a couple of days for the four years we had known each other. Suddenly he was gone and we couldn't even talk to him except for a few minutes once a week.
We made it through basic training and went to graduation and saw each other for a day or two. After that, it just made it harder to go the next 7 or 8 weeks of AIT and jump school. I didn't leave the house much during that time. We got ready to move and we were all packed up. We headed to Georgia to pick daddy up and move to Fort Bragg, our first duty station. But, hubby got hurt at jump school, and while we were there, he got new orders. He was headed to Korea. . . .unaccompanied.
After a few weeks at my parents home (since we were now homeless), hubby left for Korea. We stayed and I got deeper into my depression than ever before. Finally, I decided that I needed to do something about it. I went to the doctor and got started on medication. It helped, but I still spent a lot of nights up late crying, and lots of days in bed. I eventually got to go to Korea to be with hubby. But, once I got there, instead of getting better, things got worse. At this point, we had been living apart for nearly a year and a half. We had a lot of things to get used to, and at that point, I decided to go off of my medication, because I didn't feel like it was working and it had some strange side effects.
That is about the time the hardest thing I've ever been through happened. I got pregnant with our third child, but I didn't feel like I was ready to have another baby. I had just gotten used to the idea when I had a miscarriage. For the next few weeks, I spent most of my nights crying myself to sleep. I had a four-year-old and a two-year-old who often took care of themselves while I stayed in bed. There were times when I didn't want to live anymore. I thought of killing myself. I just couldn't. I knew I had family who loved me, and I couldn't do that to them. I honestly don't know how long this went on before I got help, but it seemed like an eternity. I went to a psychiatrist for the first time, and started on a new medication. After less than a week, I felt better than I had in years. I didn't even realize how bad it was until it started getting better. I suddenly had more energy than I had since I was twelve. I wanted to do things. I was excited about life.
Fast forward a little while. I got pregnant again, and I didn't want to be on medication when she was born, so I went off of it in my third trimester. Let me tell you, being pregnant and not having my depression medication was not an easy thing to do, but I managed.
After the baby was born, I went back on the medication. I ran out of meds at one point and decided to try going without and see how I would do.
To make a long story short. . . well, shorter . . . I went back and forth being on and off meds for the next few years. I was told by my doctor that I would probably always have to be on medication, considering my history. I tried different things to help, like exercise, essential oils, etc., and I would do really well for a few months, then I would fall back into old patterns of being tired all the time and not wanting to do things with my family and friends.
The hardest part about writing this post is that somewhat recently, I realized (actually, it was more of a revelation from the Spirit) that I would deal with depression for the rest of my life. Naturally, that was depressing itself. I still haven't fully accepted it. I always hoped that there was some way to beat it; that someday, it just wouldn't be there anymore. However, I have come to realize that I can help others. This was the main reason I started this blog. I didn't want the blog to be entirely about depression or mental illness, but it was always in the plan to write about it. If I can help someone else feel better, or discover something about themselves, or even just make them think, that is why I write.
In conclusion, I want to say that depression is not something to be ashamed of. It doesn't just happen to those who make bad decisions or who are unrighteous. If you have depression, it doesn't mean that you've done something wrong. It also can't be cured by reading your scriptures and praying more, however those things do make it easier to cope with. If you or your loved one had diabetes, cancer, or some other disease, would you tell them that they aren't being righteous enough? No, you would tell them to go to the doctor. You would tell them to take their medications. Of course, in any of these situations prayer can help, but you can't pray away every difficult situation.
My point wasn't to write a sob story to make you feel bad for me. Although, I admit that part of it was selfish. I haven't ever said or written all of this. It's kind of liberating to get it all out. Writing it all out reminded me that I have had good times before, and it's possible to have them again, and it's also possible to get through the tough times. I also have started to notice the signs of the depression getting bad before it gets so bad that I can't do anything about it.
In conclusion, I just wanted you to know that I've done it before, and can do it again.
So can you! So can you!!!!
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