Happy Labor Day! It’s the un-official end of summer today which means I pretty much skipped the entire summer of blogging. For those few people that checked the blog during that time, I sincerely thank you. So I guess I’ve got some explaining to do.
I suffer from depression. I’ve dealt with it on and off since I was 18. When I met my husband I was 19 and had been on medication for about 6 months. He was what finally brought me out of my darkness and I was able to come off the medicine. I’ve had a few breakdowns over the years since, some mild and a couple that I wasn’t sure I would ever come back from.
For months leading up to this summer I was spiraling down. It started slowly. I was losing interest in cooking and we started eating out more. I stopped cleaning the house and the husband had to pretty much beg me to vacuum or dust anything. I skipped a few days here and there blogging, which eventually turned into weeks and now months. After a while I lost interest in doing anything with anyone other than my family. As time went on, I stopped playing with my kids. When I came home from work, I cooked the bare minimum to feed the kids and spent the rest of the evening laying on the couch half asleep, I didn’t even have the energy to cook something for myself. If I wasn’t half asleep, I was crying when no one was around to see me. I am a suffer in silence person. Even my husband, who could see my downward spiral, didn’t know exactly how bad I was getting. I came home on my lunch breaks and took naps. I barely left my house on the weekends. I stopped answering my phone when it rang unless it was my husband.
Whenever I’ve been depressed in the past, I’ve never called anyone other than my husband for support. He has been the only one I’ve called when I’ve been so sad I couldn’t stand it. This summer I was at a breaking point and I called my best friend. I was sitting on the floor of my bedroom crying and hyperventilating, over what I can’t even remember now, just wanting her to listen to me so I didn’t burden my husband more than I felt I had been for the past few months. She has known me for almost 20 years and knows that I never call anyone for help, and this call scared her. When we hung up, she immediately called my husband. She recognized I was far more depressed than I was letting anyone knew and I needed help.
After those phone calls, my husband called me. We decided that night I needed to go back on medicine. It’s been a couple months now, and I finally feel like I’m balanced. I’m not perfect. But I don’t spend every day on the couch sleeping. I’m still struggling to get back into the swing of cooking every night, but after months of eating out, that’s going to take a while to get used to again. My weekends are filling up again with activities for me and the kids. I see a couple friends from time to time to stay social. My kids have started playing soccer so I spend a lot of time during the week at the field watching them and talking with the coaches and other parents. I’m keeping myself busy and doing my best every day to not let this monster take over my life again.
Depression is a hard thing to go through. So many people, myself included, are afraid to admit they suffer from it. Most people pretend to be ok when other people are around. It’s not something that you can just “get over”. You can’t just stop feeling sad when you want to. But no one is going to get better until people start talking about it. So maybe someone will see my blog and this will help them. But if not, I know that sharing this struggle with all of you was a step in the right direction for me.
I hope to get back to regular blogging again. It may take me a little while to get back into the swing of things. But I promise to try. I miss it and all of you who follow along!