Searching for Normalcy in a World of Depression

A few posts back, I talked about hosting a virtual birthday party for Mariah. As you can see, May 18 has come and gone, and there has been no virtual birthday party. My world came crashing (and by crashing I mean I lost internet access...not really) before that day, so I was left figuring out what to do.

I knew that I needed to do the reviews. I knew that I wanted to offer some great giveaways. I just couldn't imagine having to get them all out there in such a short period of time.

With added stress coming from my generous volunteering services (I vowed to help my cousin with her wedding planning. My son is also a ring bearer, so I have a lot of devotion to the cause), I crashed. Down came the rain and washed this spider right out! On top of all this, I still had to host Mariah's second birthday, and had the burden of cleaning an entire house in one, short week. Believe me, it takes me way more than a week to clean. Let's just say I need an intervention. Don't judge me though, lol.

I witnessed a dark side. I didn't want to do anything. No phone calls. No visitors (didn't work well). No fixing dinner. No washing or folding laundry. No showering (maybe I skipped a day...or two). No cuddling. No random burst of laughter. No trips to Wal-Mart just for fun. No all-day tweeting. No fixing html codes on the blog. No, No, No. And I'm not talking about Destiny's Child popular song either. I wanted nothing but to crawl in bed, or the couch, and stay there until my imprint was a permanent fixture.

Since leaving my job in banking, I feel like I've lost the best part of myself; my creativeness. I was always the go-to girl when the team needed an idea for an upcoming promotion or project. I was known for helping-out and always felt most productive when I could lend a hand. I'm a huge giver. Not necessarily monetarily, but I love lend my time, my thoughts, my services, my expertise, my shoulder. Whatever you may need, I always found a way to contribute, whether big or small.

This is part of the reason I created a blog in the first place - to show my creative side. I finally found a way to express my thoughts and ideas without having to check-in with someone about the correctness of it all. No rules, to some degree. Just me and my life in words.

I don't want to leave the impression that I begin feeling this way because I had to cut-out certain aspects of life in order to survive. The internet, cable, cellphones, and any other imaginable luxuries are not that important in the grand scheme of things. My family is what matters the most. 

I have battled depression since the birth of my son seven years ago. At least that's when I think it became uncontrollable. I had always felt a slight case of depression during my last year in high school. Even with distractions such as dance class, cheerleading, and being crowned homecoming queen, I found myself faking happiness. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to. My personality was back and forth, up and down, left and right. I never knew how I would respond on any given day. 

There was such a stigma associated with depression, I often dismissed my feelings as a horrible case of teenage mood swings. It was a phase. I would be over it in no time. Boy do I feel sorry for all Ian had to go through. Just think, it's been 11 years, so he's had his share of moods. 

Even a lovely, honor roll-making, extracurricular-participating, best-dressed young lady as I was at the time felt worthless. These superficial things meant absolutely nothing. I told my mom I was depressed. She believed me...I guess. No one likes to see their child in pain. I don't think she really knew what to do. I continued to defy my feelings. Boy would I come to regret this years later. 

I became pregnant at the age of 19, and gave birth at the age of 20. The fire ignited again. Here I am a baby myself, about to have a baby. I went into an emotional coma. I never stayed there long. My family wouldn't let me. Ian and I were about to welcome a beautiful baby into the world...on Christmas Eve to be exact. There was nothing to cry about. Unless you decided to breastfeed (no, I don't have pictures to show you). 

Breastfeeding for me was a burden and my savior all at once. I cried over my premature baby's inability to latch-on. I cried over the pain that came after each feeding. I cried over my enlarged anatomy. I cried a river to be frank. This went on for weeks. Until finally, I gave in.

Something inside of me went off. A bell. A light-bulb. An Ah Ha moment (don't sue me Oprah). I must be healthy for the sake of my family. How can I nurture my son into good health if I cannot even bare to enjoy every moment I spent with him? I worked hard for the next days. The latching-on, taking the pain out of feeding, and pumping my 'liquid-gold' proved to be healing. For the time being.

I made an appointment with my doctor's office. I could barely fill-out the questionnaire without tearing up. There were questions about my sleeping habits, my eating habits, and my socializing. Whatever the 'right' answer to the question was, I knew my answers were the complete opposite. 

Once inside the room, I bursted into tears. These were tears filled with years of pain. I had spent the last few years controlling my real feelings instead of letting my emotions runeth over. 

One prescription for depression medication later, I was back on the road to normalcy. I don't mean normalcy in a bad way. I just mean normal for me. I wanted to be the girl who loved to laugh and crack jokes at every moment possible. I wanted to look at my son and feel like I truly enjoyed being a mother. 

Eventually, everything reached a plateau. There are still moments when I feel like the edge of the cliff is so close, and if I make one wrong move I'll fall to my own despair. The only thing stopping me now is the fact that I have my feet planted on the ground. And while the ground is not always solid, is often rocky, and shakes a little now and then, I've managed to stay in stride. 

I'm glad I've been given the chance to feel the way I feel and not be judged for it. Blogging for me is more than an opportunity to do a review or host a giveaway. It's literally my life.

I leave you with this thought. What if we just let go and let God? Take a chance and find out what is just around the corner. Life is not always black and white. There are areas of gray that make its way into the cracks of our vulnerability. 

I am trying. I am learning. I am willing...to TAKE CHANCES and find my way back to normalcy.

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