When I lose my way, find me

This last year was a crazy one for me. And not in a good way. I am seriously glad to see 2011 come to an end.  I always write a post reviewing the past year and welcoming the new but it has taken me some time to force myself to sit down and write. When I think back over the year I envision a big fat rollercoaster screaming along at top speed with me hanging off the back car holding on for dear life. To others it looked like I was lounging in a rollercoaster car with my feet propped up and a peaceful smile on my face as I calmly embraced the ups and downs on the ride. And that is how depression works.  No one around you knows how desperately you are trying to keep it together.  No one around you knows that you are struggling to keep a smile on your face when you all you want to do is cry.  No one knows…..sometimes you don’t even know it yourself.

Let me fast forward to October of 2011.  I was sitting in my kitchen making tiny clay angry birds for my sons birthday cake.  I started to cry and I never stopped. I called my mom and didn’t say anything.  I just sobbed.  She told me what I knew she would.  Then I called my sister and I didn’t say anything.  I just sobbed hysterically.  She told me what I knew she would. With their encouragement, I got in my car and drove myself straight to the Community Care.  I met with a very kind doctor and when all was said and done, I left with a bottle of Cymbalta and a diagnosis of depression.

This was my thought process at the time- Depression? No…… Not me!  I mean, I have always been a happy person.  I always look for the positives.  Everyone gets in a rut sometimes, right? It’s something that I should just be able to snap myself out of.  I am strong! I made it through my husbands 6 year drug addiction and I came through it just fine….so why am I unable to cope now when my life is actually pretty good?  I feel embarrassed and ashamed that I have to take a pill to make myself happy. I know it runs in my family, but I’m different. I should be able to pull myself together.  My life isn’t bad…..so why do I feel so unhappy, alone, hopeless, angry, resentful, crazy? Why can’t I stop crying? Maybe if I pray real hard it will all go away….except I don’t want to pray.  Actually I don’t want to do anything.  If I could lay in my bed alone all day I would. What would people think if they knew? I’m a failure. 

Let’s rewind to February.  I had a doctors appointment to change my birth control….I know, I know,TMI. But it all goes along with the story so just go with it or quit reading. I had been experiencing some major anxiety for a few months and decided to talk to her about that while I was there.  I detailed my family’s history of depression and explained my symptoms.  She dismissed it as nothing and so did I.  In what would turn out to be a horrible, uneducated, last minute decision, I got my first Depo Provera shot. My anxiety increased through spring and I just tried to work through it. Still having no alternative bc plan, I went back and got my second Depo shot in May.  Second horrible, uneducated, last minute decision.  Obviously I am not a fast learner. After the second shot I gained 17 pounds in ONE WEEK!! SEVENTEEN! I started to have extreme mood swings. I was angry and aggressive and depressed. My poor husband took the brunt of all this. It was confusing and exhausting.  I called my doctors office to describe all the symptoms and ask them if they were related to the shot.  They told me no but I knew my body was reacting to the Depo.  I got online and found more info about Depo.  The most common side effects were 1. Weight Gain 2. Loss of Libido 3. Aggression and 4. Depression.  Hmmmmm. Check, check, check andddddd check. Awesome.  I decided not to go back on anything and let the years and years of bc hormones work their way out of my body.

Summer came and things got a little better. I think the sunshine was the biggest contributing factor there.  But as autumn rolled around, I took a very quick turn for the worse.  I was angry.  At everything.  I was bitter and consumed with my disdain for certain people.  Everything bothered me and I was SO negative.  I quit caring.  My house was a disaster and I didn’t care enough to clean it. I didn’t do anything I enjoyed.  I found no happiness in my family.  I was irrational and throwing out crazy ideas.  Want to hear a few?  I wanted to quit my job (that I love), get a divorce (from the man I love) and run away (from the kids I love). WHAT the WHAT?  I had opened up to my sister and she had talked to me about depression before my phone call in October.  I knew it was a problem but you never really know how bad it is until you are doing better and can look back from a healthy place. I know now that I was probably a few days away from a complete breakdown.  I am glad I went to the doctor when I did.

I saw an immediate change when I started taking the Cymbalta.  It was such a relief to be happy and calm.  After about a month a wonderful thing happened.  I started to catch glimpses of a girl I haven’t seen for awhile.  You may know her. She is really silly and fun and happy. I have missed her. I am so thankful to live in a time where we have access to pharmaceuticals that can greatly help us. I have a new understanding and compassion for people who deal with depression and other mental illnesses.  I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. I was reassured to find that many people take anti-depressants for a short period of time and then discontinue use (with their doctors help) and are fine.  I plan to continue taking it for 6 months and then I will re-evaluate where I am.  It is something I hope to wean off of in one years time.  But we will see.

So back to my thought process from earlier….Here is what I know now. I am a happy person, I do look for the positive.  I was in a rut.  It’s not always something you can snap out of.  Sometimes the chemicals in your body do their own thing.  It is not a fault or a weakness….it just is what it is.  I am strong.  I did make it through some crazy stuff and now I have one more life experience to share with others. I am not embarrassed to be taking Cymbalta.  It has given me my sanity back and probably saved my family. Did I become depressed because it’s hereditary? Maybe.  Was it triggered by my birth control change? Possibly. It doesn’t really matter why it happened because now I can say my life IS wonderful and I say a prayer of thanksgiving each day.  I am definitely not a failure and last but not least, what will people think? Probably many of the same things I thought.  Because there is a huge stigma surrounding depression. But I don’t mind what people think.  I want my struggles on this journey called life to have meant something. I want to use my life experiences to reach out to another who is silently hurting.  To say, it’s okay.  I have been there.  You are not alone.

I am so grateful for my husband.  He was married to a CRAZY person this year.  Up and down and all around!  Last year I posted this song that speaks to my heart.  There is one verse that especially rang true to me this year.  

So when I lose my way, find me

When I lose loves chains, bind me

At the end of all my faith

to the end of all my days

when I forget my name, remind me

He truly did find me when I had lost my way, when I ran out of faith, and he reminded me when I forgot who I was.  If I didn’t know it before, I know now more than ever that this man loves me unconditionally and he stood by my side through some very rough days and nights, even when I was unkind and lashing out. Music is so powerful.  I wish I had the talent to write a song to express how I am feeling.  Every once in awhile I find a song that completely describes a particular time in my life.  This song by Sarah McLachlan really sums up the rock that Kenny was for me this year.

Every time I look at you the world just melts away
All my troubles all my fears dissolve in your affections
You've seen me at my weakest but you take me as I am
And when I fall you offer me a softer place to land

You stay the course you hold the line you keep it all together
You're the one true thing I know I can believe in
You're all the things that I desire, you save me, you complete me
You're the one true thing I know I can believe

I get mad so easy but you give me room to breathe
No matter what I say or do 'cause you're to good to fight about it
Even when I have to push just to see how far you'll go
You wont stoop down to battle but you never turn to go

Your love is just the antidote when nothing else will cure me
There are times I cant decide when I cant tell up from down
You make me feel less crazy when otherwise I'd drown
But you pick me up and brush me off and tell me I'm OK
Sometimes that’s just what we need to get us through the day

The last few months of 2011 have been good.  Healing.  We had a wonderful Thanksgiving and Christmas. Life was progressing along nicely and then……..

**********************************  BAM!!!   ***************************************

Kenny lost his job on the Wednesday after Christmas. Out of the blue.  We totally did not see that coming. So that kind of left us scrambling to figure some things out.  But you know what?  It will be okay.  I believe there is a reason everything happens.  Maybe 2012 holds a new challenge or lesson that God wants us to learn.  Even with a job loss as a start to the new year, I am looking forward with hope that 2012 will be a year of personal happiness for me.

Soul Searching

I have been going through a spiritual drought. I haven't been praying, except when there's a "crisis" and I need something.  And then I don't pray again.  I haven't been reading my scriptures.  I haven't been teaching my children gospel truths at home. I haven't been listening for the spirit to touch me.  I haven't been cultivating a grateful heart. I haven't been giving service to others. I've just been spiritually numb.

I've also been thinking alot about my kids and the things I am NOT teaching them. I feel this tightening in my chest as I realize how quickly time is ticking by. Life just gets in the way and I'm so busy that those important things get pushed aside for tomorrow and then the next day and then they never happen. Life has become a routine.  Eat, work, chores, repeat. With no time made for God. 

We decided last minute to take a family camping trip over the weekend.  I was trying to get out of town on that Saturday by a certain time and had this enormous to do list looming.  I ran around all morning barking orders and yelling at the kids.  I was not being kind or patient towards my little ones. We finally made it on the road and were headed on our "relaxing family trip".  I sat there in the car and thought about my actions. My harsh words, my example.  I was out of control and I regretted treating my kids that way.  I tried really hard the rest of the weekend to let my kids be kids and to just enjoy their unique personalities. In that I succeeded.  We did have a relaxing weekend and I loved spending time with my family.

 I really reflected alot on the irony....me creating a hostile environment because I was in a hurry to get packed for a relaxing environment. I thought about it all week and then I read this blog post by Jami at Hello from the Nato's (one of my FAVORITE bloggers). She talks about "a gentle nudge towards a more intentional, thoughtful consideration of my children's spiritual lives...instead of being on cruise control." It really touched me and made me realize how much harder I need to try, how much more my kids deserve and how much I am letting my kids, myself and my Father down.

The good news? It was the first spiritual fluttering I have felt for awhile, which is a start. Today I checked her blog again and found this follow up post.  It is a must read! In this post she shares a link to a blog post written by the author of the book "Loving the Little Years".  The article was like a sucker punch to my stomach and literally brought me to tears.  I have my perspective back.

Motherhood Is a Calling (And Where Your Children Rank)

July 14, 2011|by:Rachel Jankovic|Category:Commentary

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A few years ago, when I just had four children and when the oldest was still three, I loaded them all up to go on a walk. After the final sippy cup had found a place and we were ready to go, my two-year-old turned to me and said, “Wow! You have your hands full!”
She could have just as well said, “Don’t you know what causes that?” or “Are they all yours?!”
Everywhere you go, people want to talk about your children. Why you shouldn’t have had them, how you could have prevented them, and why they would never do what you have done. They want to make sure you know that you won’t be smiling anymore when they are teenagers. All this at the grocery store, in line, while your children listen.

A Rock-Bottom Job?

The truth is that years ago, before this generation of mothers was even born, our society decided where children rank in the list of important things. When abortion was legalized, we wrote it into law.
Children rank way below college. Below world travel for sure. Below the ability to go out at night at your leisure. Below honing your body at the gym. Below any job you may have or hope to get. In fact, children rate below your desire to sit around and pick your toes, if that is what you want to do. Below everything. Children are the last thing you should ever spend your time doing.
If you grew up in this culture, it is very hard to get a biblical perspective on motherhood, to think like a free Christian woman about your life, your children. How much have we listened to partial truths and half lies? Do we believe that we want children because there is some biological urge, or the phantom “baby itch”? Are we really in this because of cute little clothes and photo opportunities? Is motherhood a rock-bottom job for those who can’t do more, or those who are satisfied with drudgery? If so, what were we thinking?

It's Not a Hobby

Motherhood is not a hobby, it is a calling. You do not collect children because you find them cuter than stamps. It is not something to do if you can squeeze the time in. It is what God gave you time for.
Christian mothers carry their children in hostile territory. When you are in public with them, you are standing with, and defending, the objects of cultural dislike. You are publicly testifying that you value what God values, and that you refuse to value what the world values. You stand with the defenseless and in front of the needy. You represent everything that our culture hates, because you represent laying down your life for another—and laying down your life for another represents the gospel.

Run to the Cross

But a Christian should have a different paradigm. We should run to to the cross. To death. So lay down your hopes. Lay down your future. Lay down your petty annoyances. Lay down your desire to be recognized. Lay down your fussiness at your children. Lay down your perfectly clean house. Lay down your grievances about the life you are living. Lay down the imaginary life you could have had by yourself. Let it go.
Death to yourself is not the end of the story. We, of all people, ought to know what follows death. The Christian life is resurrection life, life that cannot be contained by death, the kind of life that is only possible when you have been to the cross and back.
The Bible is clear about the value of children. Jesus loved them, and we are commanded to love them, to bring them up in the nurture of the Lord. We are to imitate God and take pleasure in our children.

The Question Is How

The question here is not whether you are representing the gospel, it is how you are representing it. Have you given your life to your children resentfully? Do you tally every thing you do for them like a loan shark tallies debts? Or do you give them life the way God gave it to us—freely?
It isn’t enough to pretend. You might fool a few people. That person in line at the store might believe you when you plaster on a fake smile, but your children won’t. They know exactly where they stand with you. They know the things that you rate above them. They know everything you resent and hold against them. They know that you faked a cheerful answer to that lady, only to whisper threats or bark at them in the car.
Children know the difference between a mother who is saving face to a stranger and a mother who defends their life and their worth with her smile, her love, and her absolute loyalty.

Hands Full of Good Things

When my little girl told me, “Your hands are full!” I was so thankful that she already knew what my answer would be. It was the same one that I always gave: “Yes they are—full of good things!”
Live the gospel in the things that no one sees. Sacrifice for your children in places that only they will know about. Put their value ahead of yours. Grow them up in the clean air of gospel living. Your testimony to the gospel in the little details of your life is more valuable to them than you can imagine. If you tell them the gospel, but live to yourself, they will never believe it. Give your life for theirs every day, joyfully. Lay down pettiness. Lay down fussiness. Lay down resentment about the dishes, about the laundry, about how no one knows how hard you work.
Stop clinging to yourself and cling to the cross. There is more joy and more life and more laughter on the other side of death than you can possibly carry alone.
Rachel Jankovic is a wife, homemaker, and mother. She is the author of "Loving the Little Years" and blogs at Femina. Her husband is Luke, and they have five children: Evangeline (5), Daphne (4), Chloe (2), Titus (2), and Blaire (5 months).

Tonight I am feeling grateful.  Grateful that my heart has been touched.  Grateful that I have the opportunity to continually improve as a woman, a mother and a daughter of God.  Grateful for the children that God has entrusted to me and grateful to all the mothers around me that are examples to me everyday.

Teenager #2

(Don’t mind the hair. We got it trimmed a few days later.  Poor kid was born with some wicked crazy cowlicks'.)
Kendall turned 13 three days before Christmas.   THIRTEEN!!! I can’t believe we have two teenagers in the house.  Kendall is a kind and helpful young man.  He is a hard worker and I know if I send him to help his grandpa with a project, he will labor all day long without complaint.  He is eager to serve in his youth group and I am proud of his reverent manner each Sunday.  He is a good friend and I am proud of how he chooses to conduct himself when he is around others.  I appreciate how he tries to find ways to help me out around the house.  Yes, he is a sweet boy but gone are the days of a willing hug and kiss.  Instead I have to wrestle a hug out of him and a kiss on the cheek is met with a groan….but there is still the “I’m trying not to smile” smirk on his face and I know he loves it secretly.  Creeping in on his sweet disposition are temper flares and teenage eye rolls but I know it’s all part of the process.
Sometimes I pull out his baby photos and I feel a stab of sadness that my baby is no longer a baby.  My eyes caress the picture of those soft baby cheeks, I remember his sweet face and trusting eyes.  I remember the quiet moments I spent rocking him.  Sometimes I fast forward to the day he will leave for a mission.  Only six years.  I remind myself that six years will whiz by all to quickly.  What do I need to teach him before I send him out into the world?  How do I raise a wholesome young man in these crazy times?  Will we make it through the next six, life changing years in one piece?  What if he makes serious mistakes?  And then I think about all the mistakes I made in my youth.  All the detours I took and the heartache I caused my parents.  But I find comfort knowing he will only grow as a person by learning from his mistakes.  I have found that time heals many things and that no matter what he chooses to do, in the end he will be okay.   
Man, did I get off track from my “Happy” Birthday post! 
Back to celebrating……we gathered for dinner and had a relaxing evening out.  We ate, we visited, we chased our kids around and we celebrated the birth of one really awesome boy.  Happy Birthday, Kendall.  We love you.
It was a fun treat to have Tyson with us.  He is serving in Iraq and was home for 14 days of leave.

Tyson, the great American Hero and awesome husband to my equally amazing sister, Becky. Ya, I like them.
 

Don't You Love it When...

You are born with straight eyelashes that you feel the need to curl with a strange looking contraption every morning? And don't you love it when your four year old takes the contraption and uses it as a toy, forcing you to go searching for it EVERY DAY? And don't you love it when it takes you an entire day to find the contraption when it was sitting in a pile of legos and quarters all along? And don't you love it when you are leaning towards the mirror, poised to curl your lashes and you squeeze ever so lightly on the contraption only to watch a chunk of your eyelashes flutter into the sink? And don't you love it when you realize your four year old was using the contraption to squeeze quarters and bent the metal? And don't you love it when you are missing a quarter inch of eyelashes in the middle of your eye?

And speaking of eyelashes....am I the only person that has bad eyelash days? You know when one eye looks awesome and the other doesn't cooperate?
I know....deep thoughts.

My Husband is a Biker

Kenny pleaded a very convincing case last week. It involved a motorcycle so I said no. But after a weeks worth of research and planning on his part, I caved. The biggest advantage he had going for him is the fact that $100 wont even fill the tank in his truck!! Gas prices are ridiculous...but that is another blog altogether. So the total to fill the motorcycle was $12.77. He will be driving it back and forth to work for the summer. I do have my reservations because of safety, but I have to say he looks really HOT in his leather biker jacket. The motorcycle is really pretty....(can you get beat up for saying a motorcycle is pretty?) Anyway it makes me laugh because he wants to "hit the open road" but he cant decide where to ride so he just drives around the neighborhood. If my husband is a biker, does that make me a biker chick?