If you are going through hell...

“If you’re going through Hell, keep going.”

Winston Churchill had many inspiring things to say but in my mind this is one of the most profound.

It may be a matter of opinion, I know 😉 but I have many reasons for this opinion.

It has helped me through some dark times.

Some days are just hard.  If for no reason, or for every reason.

4 years ago Daniel got hurt.  Had to have complete reconstructive surgery done on his knee.  Was out of work for almost 6 months. Then he had to have another surgery on the same knee and was out for another 2 months. I was pregnant with our daughter at the time and had a 3 and 4 year old to take care of. I couldn't work due to a pregnancy related condition and honestly the world was a pretty dark place...

Then,  our daughter was born, I returned to work shortly after and Daniel did as well. But due to the previous years financial hardship, we then lost our home. 

Little did I understand at that moment,  on top of stress that was piling from every angle I also had post partum depression. This may have been obvious to some and yes, the signs were all there. But it wasnt recognized early on. After it all, I got a point where absolutely nothing was worth living for. 

I was ruining everything.
I made everybody miserable.
I was unworthy of the air I breathed.

Let's fast forward now...

I got help,  started some medications,  and recognized that regardless how I felt about myself that my kids were worthy of the air I breathed.  They were and are my daily drive to drive to be better. 


Slowly and surely it got better.  Just like everybody always says it will.  And I began to relax into life as I knew it.

Then a month ago Daniel suffered a severe back injury...

Sitting in the doctor's office when she said the word surgery, I'll be honest... I didn't hear much after that...

Immediate fear and trauma rose to the surface and in my head all I could hear was myself screaming, not again.. please.. not again, it was finally ok!

I voiced some of my concerns to him,  hoping not to offend him or cause him to feel guilt.  And to give him credit, he handled it with complete understanding.

But still... I was scared.

Here we are a month later... surgery lurking before us..
Hes handling it like a grain of salt tossed over his shoulder. No biggy. Get it done and let's move on.

Me? My obnoxiously optimistic self has it's own worst enemy... my anxiety.

I have been struggling badly with my depression. But thankfully I know the signs this time around, and am getting help.

And thankfully this time around I also know no matter what... it IS going to be ok.

I know my kids are worth the air I breathe.
I know I am worth the air I breathe...

Everyone has their own form of hell to walk through... key is to remember to just keep going.

Semicolon project

In 2013 the semicolon project started. Due to my 2007 suicide attempt and my friend Brian also being a victim of feeling like life wasnt withstandable a short time later, it was incredibly important to me to one day get a semicolon. 

When 2016 hit and my life spiraled out of control I again found myself in that moment of feeling like life wasnt worth living. Thank God in that moment when it was do or die I thought of my children and the pain and blame I felt the day Brian ended his life and realized my children would feel that pain intensified by a million. That pushed me to get up, get out the door and get to the hospital before it was to late...

Over the last couple of years I have gone through ups and downs in my own emotions trying to hide from mistakes that haunt me and have to remind myself every single day that I am not what I have done. A dear friend told me a little while back that every story has a purpose... even if you can't see yet what it is, someday it will serve it's purpose. 

Today I didnt just get the semicolon to include myself into a group of people showing the world a story hasnt ended . Today I got a semicolon with the words never give up to remind MYSELF that MY story hasn't ended.. it could have but I chose to continue writing it.

Happy Daddy's day to my lifetime superhero!

When I was 4 years old I walked into the kitchen, blurry eyed from sleep and saw this man sitting there at the table.
Shy and nervous  I stood in silence... until he pulled out a bear. One that would hold a special place till the end of time.
I named her, Freddy teddy.
He broke my walls and got me to open up, quickly I loved him.
He watched me fall in love with French vanilla cappuccinos and taught me how to drive.
He was there for every bad dream and he turned my lamp on every single night.
He never made me feel as though I was any less his own and held me every time that I cried.
He is the cause for every silly face and my personality is his repeating itself.
I am my fathers mini me in almost every way.
He wasn't just my father because he had to be or it's what was right, he chose to be even when he had no obligation.
He is my super hero. He swooped in and saved my life.
He gave me a dad and showed me what I'd been missing, even when he didnt have to.
Daddy I love you. Thank you for always being there for every tough time, every happy time and every moment in general.
I am proud to be a daddy's girl.
I'm so thankful that you chose me.
Happy Daddy's day, Daddy!!!!

My story is being rewritten...

I was a broken soul, lost in a world too quickly passing by.
I wasn't who I wanted to be and I was running from who I used to be.
I had taken my past as an absolute of who not to be.
I forgot who I am, while trying to forget who I was...

Today I begin rewriting my story.

I will not be ashamed of who I was.
I will no longer hide behind a mask walking the earth in thought that I'm undeserving.
I will no longer have the mentality that I don't love myself.
I love the me with flaws, fears, anxieties and tears running down my face.
I love the me that can hope, dream, laugh and celebrate the wonder that is renewed in myself.

1 Corinthians 25:10 

By the grace of God, I am what I am.

I will no longer think of the negative words that have been spoken to me or about me in my life. The words I have allowed to fester, breed and tear me down for far to long. I will no longer allow myself to make my choices out of fear.

 Psalm 46:5

God is within her, she will not fall.

I will take each day as it comes. One foot in front of the next. I have strength I do not even know I have and a hand there to catch me when I feel it running out...

I AM fearfully and wonderfully made. Every single part of my "unique" self was created for a reason.

Letter to me...

Dear 16 year old me,

I'm writing you this letter because right now I know life seems to be dragging on and nothing you do will change that.  All I can tell you is ... stop trying to.

Enjoy the smiles while you can,  enjoy the time that you have with your friends because someday no matter how hard any of you try... most of you will drift apart. I know that seems impossible but sadly it's a fact so have fun with them while you can.

Take every chance given to you and stop being so scared... one day you will look back and regret that you gave up the pieces of yourself that were actually the most important, even if you don't see that now.

Laugh with your best friend as often as time allows... one day he won't be here because his life will be cut short. So go do crazy things, stay up late and listen to music you hate,  take every word he says to heart and don't be offended when he tells you the truth. He only tells you the truth because he loves you.

Your heart is gunna get broken girl... It'll be the worst pain in your life... I wish I could say it makes you stronger, because that's what everybody else says... but it's simply not true.  You're gunna cry,  you're gunna hide from the fact and honestly I can't tell you if it ever completely goes away...But what I can tell you is that you will look back on this as a wonderful memory.  And that's more than most could ask.

You're going to make a LOT of mistakes... I wish I could protect you from them. Situations you will put yourself in... people you will hurt.  Sadly you will have alot you will wish you'd done differently.  But you are learning.. sometimes you're gunna screw up and do it again.  One day I promise... you will figure it out... the people that matter will be the ones who forgive you.

Life will not be an easy one.  Adulting kind of sucks. You will have your hardships. There will be times that you are scared. There will be times that you can't think past the next step in front of you.
The will be times little girl.... where you will simply feel unworthy....

But let me tell you.. you are... you are worthy of your own greatness... never be ashamed of that....

Live your life girl and one day you'll be sitting here writing this letter to you... I promise. Just remember, that your knees are for praying and that sometimes holding your own hand will give you more strength than somebody else's will.

You've got this...

You are not alone...

I was first diagnosed with Bipolar when I was 17 years old... very few are actually aware of this because... well.. the answer is easy... I didn't tell anyone.

It was bad enough that I had struggled with "depression and ADD" since I was 11 and been medicated since 15 when I had my first thoughts of suicide...

I was a girl, that was embarrassed and often used the excuse "I dont want to use a pill to be happy! If I'm not happy in my own I'm not supposed to be!"

My poor parents.. to have to watch their child self sabotage and dig deeper into a hole where she couldn't breathe... the strength these two people I proudly call mine had... I will never understand...

My dad bargained with me through high school to take my pills which often?... ended up in the back of my nightstand drawer... poor guy didn't even know till I was 19.

So when I was diagnosed with Bipolar and anxiety disorder I said screw that. Now dont get me wrong I had a fabulous Psychiatrist who tried to explain that it wasnt like in the movies or how Hollywood has portrayed it which in turn has caused alot of negativity with it's mention...

"She's bipolar??? Oh God.." people automatically think its black and white to set you off. 

I was included in this group of thinkers.

I imagined a stringy haired horror movie character rocking back and forth and going from screaming to laughing. I think every teenager in existence makes crazy jokes like this. I was included...

Number one -
I am not Bipolar... I HAVE Bipolar.
This one took me years to grasp. 

That it was not a character flaw or a defect in my very self. 

It's like having a cold. Would you say I'm a cold? No you would say I have a cold.
It is an illness, nothing more. Nothing less
Just like any long term illness you cant cure it, but you can treat it.

Number two -
I am not crazy. Growing up I stated that I didn't have Bipolar because I didn't want people to look at me like I was crazy.
*Again with the horror movies and Hollywood portrayals*
It took only a few months shy of my 30's for me to accept...
I AM NOT CRAZY!!!!

I feel things stronger, more intense and often it can be way too heavy of a feeling... that does not make me crazy, it makes me passionate

I have days I feel fear for no apparent reason, with this cloud of impending doom over my head... that does not make me crazy, it makes me cautious.
Do I have ups and downs that alot of people dont have? Sure. Absolutely.  You bet.... that does not make me crazy, that makes me ridiculously unique.

When I was diagnosed, I tried mood stabilizers and at 17... I hated that it took the mania away from me... not recognizing that the mania was what was creating most of my problems...

When I was manic...

I was on top of the world.
There was nothing I couldn't do. (I had a feeling of being invincible. During this time, I did alot of drinking) drinking, drugs (my choice was pills) and acting out sexually are common during manic stages. This actually wasnt explained to me until I was 28.
I had zero fear of any situations.
I was a habitual liar.
I didn't care who I hurt during my "binge"
I was insanely self absorbed
I self sabotaged
I had zero care for my own life or others
If anyone expressed upset I would either laugh or turn the upset to rage directed at them instead...
I would do things with no thoughts to the consequences later on...

And then... inevitably... when the mania ends... and it always ends... whether it be 2 hours, 2 weeks or two months later you fall.... and the pit i fell into was so deep that I couldn't even see daylight...

I felt worthless.
I felt like there is nothing i could do..  I screw up everything...
I felt scared. All the time.
I hid from everyone around you, either from not remembering how horribly I treated them or beyond embarrassed for how horribly I treated them.
I set out with a completely different form of self sabotage..

I had a different form of not caring about my life.
My rage was now directed at me and how I felt about myself wasnt fair.
And sadly.. due to all of the things that had bore no consequences for that time had all piled up and I felt 500,000 times worse for them.

When that crash, that so many people I know understand hits you, you cant function. 

You cant breathe. 

You cant live...

It took 13 years, 3 kids and 2 suicide attempts for me to finally understand that... although the mania is bomb, and it is exciting and takes all inhibitions away from your heart and makes you feel so free.. It really didn't... 

I was slave to the mania... and worse?... 

I was the slave to the spiral into the darkness that followed...

Being medicated - 

Is my life quite as "exciting" as it is when I'm unmedicated?
Probably not.

Do I get quite as excited over silly little things like I used to?
No not really.

Am I as ridiculously outgoing as I used to be where I knew no stranger and would for real invite strangers into my car or over to my house?
Not at all.

But am I happy?
Yes.

Am I stable?
Yes.

Am I myself?
For the first time ever...
Yes.

I survived the storm. And every day I am still surviving...

When you feel all alone, know that you're not... know that you have support... even if its here at diaryofdepressedhousewife.

“And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.” ~ Haruki Murakami

I am not a failing mother

My family was invited to church this morning by someone in my adult life that has become my friend but while growing up she was just as much a mother to me as she was her own child. She saw me at my best,  sadly sometimes at my worst,  always told me the truth without holding back but always in love without intention to cause pain. And just like a mother she always had an intuition and even when I didn't know it she was always there just when I needed her to be or just in some small act made me feel less alone. As always her intuition could not have been better. The timing for this service couldn't have been more spot on.

The service was a pretty intense one for me in my personal state. Every single bit from the comedy to the nitty gritty I heard myself speaking the words within my own heart...
The main part that really effected me was comparing myself to other moms... I have done this for as long as I can even remember and honestly I think I may have done that since prenatal stages with Kyden...

This mom fed her kid healthy.
My kids? Ramen, spaghetti-os and frozen corn dogs a couple times a week. 
This mom has a bin of age appropriate games all set up and her kids are never idol.
My kids were lucky if I didn't stick in a video game just to get them to leave me alone for 20 minutes and stop asking the same question over.. and over..
This mom always had a clean house.
Mine? Yeah freaking right. Conversation ended.
This mom limited TV time to 30 minutes a day as to not rot her kids brains.
My kids brains are probably goo at this point...

I don't just compare myself to every mom out there.. I compared myself to every thing from every mom at the same time... I was failing.  Horribly. 

My kids throw fits.
My kids argue.
My kids hate brushing their teeth.
My oldest can't tie his shoes yet.
Getting them to brush their teeth is like pulling them.
Sometimes I lie and say I'm going to the bathroom just so I can lock the door and sit there and try not to think about how absolutely, I'm screwing them up because I'm not parenting right.

Just two weeks ago I about had a break down while yelling and crying in Daniel's direction about never going to be that mom... *seriously the timing was amazing* so when I heard... with my own ears... that other moms feel the same way I decided to admit, outside my own home that I feel it but not expecting much to change within myself.

Then this mom... this friend held my hand and for some reason I broke inside...

I broke for feeling like a failure.
I broke for feeling like I was worthless.
I broke for feeling like I was incapable.
I broke for holding onto it for as long as I have.
I broke for feeling so alone in feeling it...

I cried like a big ol baby till I had no tears left to cry which was crazy because if you know me,
A. I HATE crying in front of people *I'm and ugly crier haha*
B. It came from nowhere and I wasnt expecting it!

When I was done I felt like a completely different person. I felt.... more joyful...

For the first time celebrating a mothers day I fully embraced my children's childlike views of myself, and I TRULY enjoyed myself and my family's company in celebration of me without feeling embarrassed or ashamed.

Psalm 34:18
The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.