Depression... my depression.. I hope it helps someone today.

de·pres·sion/diˈpreSHən/

Noun:

Severe despondency and dejection, accompanied by feelings of hopelessness and inadequacy. A condition of mental disturbance, typically with lack of energy and difficulty in maintaining concentration or interest in life.

  I have depression.  I suffer from long bouts of feeling like I am worthless.  I have long bouts of feeling like if I begin to cry, I will not be able to stop.  I have long bouts of ache and pain.  I know that depression effects my body in painful, straining ways.  Body aches, headaches, muscle ache, weakness, and fatigue.  It is not fun.  I know that I have a chemical imbalance in my brain that messes with my system, my thoughts, and my mood.  I am tired of being tired.

But what can you do?  What can I do? 

I take my medicine. I take my moments, when I feel out of control.  I listen to guided meditation, it helps me to relax and unwind.  I like to listen to music.  It affects our mood too.  I play way to much facebook games though, and I should avoid it, because it is a band-aid that distracts me from doing productive things with myself, like developing my talents.  I am struggling with what to do with myself.

I know that I am talented in certain ways.  I love to write, and have written two novels, even if I am not published or known yet, I can be proud of that.  Even though I am struggling to believe in myself.  I am a decent artist, and would love to illustrate professionally.  However, I struggle to see the value in my work.  I am smart, but believe and always have that I am unskilled.  

I love my husband and family more than I could ever express in this lifetime, but everyday I feel like I let them down.  I feel like I am the worst mother ever, because I cannot be there for them in the ways that a mother should, and I have so much guilt that I cannot breathe.  

I suffer from ailments like a issues with my back, that cannot be resolved.  I suffer from hip issues, chronic headaches, and migraines.  I suffer from an eating disorder, and the side effects of years of dealing with it.  I am pre-diabetic, and I am sad.  I am sad  to say that I suffer from P.T.S.D.  (post traumatic stress disorder) brought on by trauma.  I suffer from depression.  I also suffer with P.M.D.D.  (Pre-Menstrual Dysphoric Disorder), which makes your emotions out of control, like PMS on steroids, or as my family calls them, my psycho days.  So sad that tears are not enough to wash it away, or lower the tide in my heart.

Why am I telling you all of this?  I am telling you this because I don't want anyone in this world to go without the knowledge that they are not alone, because you are not.  Really not.   I want to be honest in my dealings with others.  I want to be a source of information, compassion, understanding, support for whoever needs it, because I have felt alone in this for a very long time.  

We all suffer from something.  We all suffer in silence, putting on a smile so that no one knows how much pain we are in (emotional or otherwise).  Tony, my husband, always reminds me that I don't  have to smile and laugh all the time, to make others feel better.  He reminds me that the doctors will not take me seriously, if I pretend to be happy.  I am pretending, more than I want to admit.  It is hard to hold on sometimes.  It is hard to believe in myself, or that there is a silver lining somewhere, out there.  It is hard to remember that I am a daughter of God, a daughter of Heavenly Father who loves me and knows my potential.  I have faith in that, but my head often tries erase that from my memory.

I want to be a source of strength.  Most people believe that I am so strong, because of all that I have been through, and I can still smile. That is true... I can still smile, and I am strong, especially more than I ever thought I could be, but I am also dealing with a swirling tornado that touches down randomly in my mind and in my heart, tearing me up again.  When this happens, I have to stop what I am doing, and try to sort it all out again.  It is a day stopper.  It is a life halter.  It makes me sad that I have to deal with the devastation caused by the touching down of the emotional tornado.  

I am sad because I cannot stop it.  I can only do my best.  

I read my scriptures, go to church when I can, listen to talks from church leaders, and I try to absorb things that are good for me, for instance, my favorite art, music, shows, activities, like doing puzzles, playing solitaire, watching a good movie, sometimes one that makes me laugh, or something that makes me cry, yes on purpose.  Crying is a wonderful release.  Laughing is great too.  Working on a craft, or working to develop my talents or learn a new one. It all helps, but I have to push myself to do it.  I have to force myself to do it.  I have to make myself want it.  Is there days that I cannot?  Are there days where I fail?  Are there days when getting out of bed is impossible?  Are there days when I do not want to speak, or even be?  The answer is yes. 

But do I keep going?  Yes... why?   I have too.  I love my family.  I love my Lord.  I love my children who are waiting for me in Heaven, and need me to be worthy to get back to them.  I believe that my Father who is in heaven has a plan, and that plan is for my good.  I believe that he will never allow anything to happen that is more than I can handle, and because of that I am flattered.  Apparently he believes that there is more that I am capable of than I ever imagined that I would be.  I am a survivor.  I am proud to be a survivor, but I am also a person who has to learn how to live, and not just exist.  

Do you feel like you are only existing?  Day to day feels so hard that there is no joy in your day?  Are financial troubles so taxing on your mind that there is no where to turn for relief?  I am with you.  I understand.  I am there.  I pray daily that it will end, and right now I struggle to believe that it will. But will I give up today... no.

Today I want to live.  Today I want to struggle through and see what tomorrow brings.  Today I want to love my children, and when they come in to see me, while I lie in my bed, in agony and pain, I want them to know how happy I am to see them. I want them to know that they mean the world to me, and that the time they took to come upstairs and see me means something to me.  I want to give them my best hello, my most sincere smile, and warmest hug.  I will ask them about their day, and try to push aside my guilt of not being able to share it with them.  I will try to push away the thoughts, the reality, that I am not the person they deserve right now, but instead remind myself that they are valued, and loved with all of my heart, and that I want to be with them, as much as I can, and then I apologize again, sincerely, even though they tell me it is okay.  I have a mother who is in the same position.  I grew up watching my mother wither, until she can no longer be here for us in the ways I know she would be if she could.  So on my good days, I do my best. On my bad days, I do my best not to take it out on them, and get through it with the goal of doing better tomorrow.

I suffer from debilitating depression, but I will not let it win!  I promise myself that.

What will you do to get through today?  Because some days you have to have a plan.  And some days we have to get ourselves out of bed, even if only to sit on a recliner where you can be present in the room with your loved ones.  Some days you have to decide that you are tired of being tired, and do your best to push yourself forward.  Does that mean that you cannot have a bad day?  No.  Does that mean that you cannot cry yourself to sleep in you bed?  No. Does that mean that you cannot take some quiet time, away from it all?  No.   Does that mean that it is okay to give up?  No!  You cannot give up.  I promise to you, anyone who reads this, and to myself that I will not give up.  I will not stop trying.  I will not quit.  

I might not be strong enough to say that tomorrow, and tomorrow I might need to lean on my husband's shoulder, but for today, I will not give up.  

Turn to your friends, turn to your family, and if you have none of those, and even if you do, turn to your God.  However you define Him.  He will be there, even if it is just to listen.  If you don't have a God, or friends, or family, write it down.  It helps.  You will feel stronger today... because you got it out.  You will have released some of the pressure in your heart and mind.  You will feel a little less sad.  I do.  Having written this has helped me, but more than that, I hope that it has helped you. 

You are not alone, not really.

All my love and support, for whatever you might be struggling with, even if you are just sad for a day and do not have clinical depression, because that is hard too.  

Ask yourself also, have you been kind to someone today.  Have you served someone through an act of kindness, or called , written, emailed, texted someone today that has been on your mind? 

That will also help.

And if you are so inclined, even if you have never done it before, have you prayed?

Helpful hint:

Begin with Our Father in Heaven...

and end with I say this, or I ask this in the the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

In between those two phrases, just tell him what is on your mind.  Tell him how you feel.  Tell him you are fed up, tired, struggling, depressed, frustrated, and maybe try to remember to tell him what you are thankful for.  Counting your blessings is not just a simple phrase... it helps.  

Anyway, thank you for listening to me today.  It helped.   I send you my compassion, my empathy, and my prayers.  I send you my tenderness and hopeful thoughts.  I send you my love (in a friendship sort of way).

I am struggling, but I have made a choice. I have decided... not to give up.

Good luck everyone.  You are not alone. 

What does it mean?

We can learn so much about ourselves from those who despise us.  I just wish that it would stick.  There is so much for us to be proud, and humble about.  

When will we learn that we are can only be a great nation if we stick together, care for each other, and love one another.  I have to wonder, why do other countries see us as a selfish wild card.  Are we?

Time and Procrastination

It is said that procrastination is the thief of eternal life, and I believe that time is its eternal companion. 

It slips through our fingers like water when held for too long.

Like the rivers it continues to flow, the ocean tides continue to surge, even the streams move on without turning back.

Such is time.

With time come the changes.

My skin no longer radiates with the spark of youth.

My hair has begun to whiten, losing its brightness and sheen.

However, I have come to realize that these things must be.

For these changes are our reminders.

They are our warning.

They are our beckon call.

We are being reminded that time is slipping through our fingers.

Our time to prepare has nearly run out, for this life is just a grain of sand, a drop of water, a moment in the grand scheme.

It is time to prepare for our eternal life and procrastination is the thief.

Poem called, "What if...?"

What if...?
People say that dreams are the messages of the heart, or maybe our fears realized, depending on whether they are a simple fantasy, or a terrifying nightmare.  What if the dream was the reality?  What if our daily, sometimes mundane lives were the illusion?
     Or for those who believe in worlds without number, what if our dreams were really glimpses into those worlds?  What if dreams are the windows, and our imaginations are really the doorways?
     Writers, painters, artists, craftsman create works that make you want to be a part of them.  What if they are giving us glimpses into other realms?  If they are simply dreams or imaginative flights of fantasy, why do our hearts and minds long for those glimpses to be real?
     Are they momentary escapes, or are those feelings really the desire to return, from whence we came?

The Mask I Wear

This poem was given to me, by one of my therapists at the Cleveland Clinic, when I attended a 5 week Chronic Pain Treatment program last year.  It was very on the nose about me. Throughout my life, I have worn a mask.  In my effort to be everyone's friend, to fit in, and to not draw attention to myself, or my pain (emotional, spiritual, physical) I put on my mask.  The "eternal smile" I called it.
This poem really applied to me and I hope that it might make you think about the mask that you might wear.

The Mask I Wear

Don't be fooled by me.
Don't be fooled by the face I wear
For I wear a mask.  I wear a thousand masks- masks that I'm afraid to take off and none of them are me
but don't be fooled,
For God's sake, don't be fooled.
I give you the impression that I'm secure
That all is sunny and unruffled with me
with as well as without,
that confidence is my name and coolness my game,
that the water's calm
and I'm in command,
and that I need no one.
But don't believe me. Please!

My surface may be smooth but my surface is my mask,
My ever-varying and ever-concealing mask.
Beneath lies no smugness, no complacence.
Beneath dwells the real me in confusion, in fear, in aloneness.
But I hide this.
I don't want anyone to know it.
I panic at the thought of my weaknesses
and fear exposing them.
That;s why I frantically create my masks
to hide behind.
They're nonchalant, sophisticated facades
to help me pretend,
To shield me from the glance that knows.
But such a glance is precisely my salvation,
my only salvation and I know it.

That is, if it's followed by acceptance,
and if it's followed by love.
It's the only thing that can liberate me from myself
from my own self-built prison walls

I dislike hiding, honestly
I dislike the superficial game I'm playing,
the superficial phony game.



I found, when I read this for the first time, that I was afraid.  I was found out.  Someone saw through my mask, and I did not know what to do.  Once the fear subsided though, I realized that I wasn't alone.  Someone in the world understood me.  I was not the only one, and it was liberating.
I also came to discover the depths on which I depended on my mask, and it made me sad.  I was sad that I was so ashamed of who I was that I could not bring myself to take a chance and share the real me with anyone, except my husband and children.  I realized how depleted my self esteem really was.  My well had run dry.  What did I have to show for it?  I had a lot of acquaintances... people I would call friends, but it was all an illusion, and I was miserable.  Those are hard realities to face, but once I did face them, I could see more clearly what I had to do, and what I needed.  I also came to realize that I was blessed.
I was blessed, because I had a wonderful man in my life who always saw through my disguise and loved me for who I was.  He had never asked me to be more than myself.  He had only asked for my trust, my love, and for those things that made me...me.  I had beautiful, creative, funny children who needed me, and loved me in a way that no one else ever would, or could.  Those are good realizations to have.
I am grateful for the struggles in my life, because you can't get to the heart of anything without scraping off the hard outer layer.  (metaphorically speaking).

We all have masks, whether we know it or not.  We all have things about ourselves that we are not happy with, or resist.  We all want to fit in, and be seen.  We all want to know that we matter, that we are accepted and that we are loved.
However, my question is, what price do we pay for that buffer of imagined security?  What of ourselves do we give up to fit in, to find our place, to find acceptance?
I gave up all of me and it has taken me a long time to rediscover myself.
You might ask though, do I still struggle?  Do I wear my mask, even on a part-time basis?  Of course I do.
It is a struggle that I will probably have for all of my life.  I struggle to feel happy.  I struggle to feel valued.  I struggle to fit in and feel accepted.  I struggle to feel good enough. I struggle with the worry about what other people think of me, but it does not mean that I am not still trying to overcome those thoughts.  It is work... like with anything worth having in this life... but I am not giving up.  Giving up and succumbing is easy, it is the repairs that have to be made after ward though that are the real bugger.
I am learning though, that I am a good person.  I do deserve to be happy, and I deserve to have good people around me, who will accept me flaws and all.  Those people are hard to find, but I'm not giving up on that dream either.
Good luck my fellow travelers.  I hope that you will learn to let your mask down once and a while.  Risk is scary, but you are worth it.

Difference and Purpose

I love this picture, because it makes me think of my children. They were severely mentally impaired, blind, deaf, unable to walk, or run, jump or play without assistance, but they were so special and they were mine.
Being different in this world is not something that is accepted readily.  Unless you are outwardly beautiful, talented in some astonishing way, or wealthy and can show it, there is little welcome in this world for you, unless you can get people to look past your differences, to find out who you are.
For someone who is handicapped or disabled, it is very hard to find acceptance.  You discover that most people feel a lot of fear, and awkwardness when meeting people who are different.  You find out who your friends are, you discover who can handle your new life an the challenges, struggles, heart breaks, setbacks, and sorrows that are now a part of your every day.
Through those struggles though, I came to understand how special my son and daughter were. By taking on the responsibility of caring for them everyday, rooting for them when they worked so hard to perform the basic tasks that we take for granted, and loving them when they slept so peacefully in my arms, I came to see them for the gift that they were.
They taught me more in their short lives about compassion, unconditional love, and about myself than anyone could ever have.
I was saddened by the fact that few had the courage, or took the time to get to know them better.  They had such sweet spirits.  They were full of love and simple appreciation for those who loved them and shared the day with them.
Music provided so much joy to them.  The right tune soothe them, or made them want to dance and play.  They loved being sung to, and the hymns played on Sunday morning made them so peaceful.
Silliness was the order of the day and being around them made you want to be silly.  They made you feel like you could be yourself.  They only wanted your time, your laughter, your attention.  The simplest things made them laugh and smile.  A silly noise, the laughter of others, music and dancing around the living room, all of those things made for such happy memories.  Anthony love it when Tony would "play" wrestle with him and Tia on the floor.  He loved taking walks and feeling a breeze on his face.  His absolute favorite thing to do though, was to stand (holding onto the window sill) and feel the sunshine on his face.  His favorite spot to sit was in the section of sunshine that would shine down through the window creating a wide, warm rectangle of light on the floor.  He would sit there for so long, just basking in the warmth an beauty.  I loved to watch him, quietly from the other side of the room.
To have someone need you so much, to love you so unconditionally, to need you in ways that no one else could, was such a blessing.
Kyra was my snuggle bug.  She could not do as much as her brother, which was very little, but what she could not do, she made up for in love.  She loved to snuggle and listen as I read her stories, or sang her songs.  The hymn "I am a child of God" was a song that I sang to her every night while she fell asleep in my arms. Those are the moments that I remember with longing the most.
The other memories I have caused me to suffer from depression, and post traumatic stress, but if I am being honest, I would be willing to do it again, if God asked me too.
I understand the crucifixion now so much more now, and in such a personal way.  I understand the sorrow that our Heavenly Father must have felt knowing what his son, our savior Jesus Christ, was going to have to go through.  I understand the helplessness he must have felt knowing that nothing could be done to change his fate.  He was meant to suffer for our sake.  I know that helplessness. My son and daughter went through so much that I could only observe.  I could offer them support, love and comfort, but there was so much that was out of control.  How often does our Heavenly Father watch helplessly, only able to offer us the love and comfort when we suffer, or when we face situations that are necessary for our growth.
However there are times when we make choices, going against all we know, and against our better judgement, to fit in, or to escape, but are not necessarily prepared for the consequences that come with it.  Many people believe that God causes bad things to happen to us, but that is not true.  Often he has to allow the bad to happen, for our growth.  Often he has to allow us to suffer the consequences of our actions, decisions, and choices.  The question for us is, do we trust that he knows us better than we know ourselves?  Do we trust that he has a plan for us?  Do we allow him to teach us those things that he feels we need to learn.  Do we trust that he knows what we are capable of, or that he knows our potential.
Not all of us are born with superior intelligence, the ability to draw, sing, tell a story, create, or understand, but it does not mean that we are not worth knowing that we are not worth the time, effort, friendship, love, or time of those around us?
My children were not able to do the normal things that most children could do.  They could not see, they could not hear properly, they could not speak, run, jump, walk, or express themselves, but there is not one moment that I shared with them, that I would trade for the world.  They were a joy to behold, and those who did get the chance to know them better, came away with so much love and appreciation for them.
How often do we ignore those meeker members of society, or in our lives.  How often do we take the time to understand to know, support and love those around us that we take for granted.  How often do we offer friendship to those who may not be in our everyday social circle?  How often do we attend to the needs of those around us, without expecting something in return?  How often do we offer a kind word, a smile, a simple act of love, without needing a holiday as an excuse?
Are we loving those who are around us, the way that our savior taught us to?
It is just something to consider.

" I dreamt of heaven the other night, an the pearly gates swung wide.  An angel with halo bright ushered me inside.  And there to my astonishment stood folks I'd judged and labeled as quite "unfit" of "little worth", and spiritually disabled." Indignant words rose to my lips, but NEVER were set free, for EVERY face showed stunned surprise, not ONE expected ME!"  -Unknown



I love you Anthony, Kyra, an Gabriel.  I miss you, but I am so grateful for the lives you live on our behalf.
I can't wait to see you again. -mom

Dreams

What would this world be without our dreams?  Where would our hope begin?
Every invention, painting, story, creation begins with a dream, or inspiration.
It is so important for us to dream, not just for the guide of it, but because we grow with every dream we have.
What do you dream about? What is your greatest wish?  What is it that you hope to become, create, or do?
I have so many dreams that it is difficult to focus on one.  I have so many stories, rushing around in my mind that my fingers cannot write them fast enough.  I cannot make them type any faster than they are capable, but still I dream.
What are you going to do, to make those dreams come true?
Every wonder of this world begins with a dream.
Don't be afraid to dream.

"Keep your heart open to dreams.  For as long as there are dreams there is hope and if there is hope there is joy in living" -Anonymous