The Long Journey Home

This has been an incredibly difficult year.
I found myself drowning in depression.... listless, restless, emotionally ragged, gaining weight, isolating, irritable. I'd pull out of it for several days or a couple of weeks, and reengage with life in a more 'normal' way before sliding back into the inky darkness that has been covering my mind.
It's not shocking that I would find myself here eventually. The level of trauma I've experienced has been so high and lasted for so many continual years that I'd expect anyone to find themselves breaking. I feel like I had a buffered zone for a long time because my hard wiring is one of hope and optimism. I can almost always find something good in most anything and I believe this has served me well in preventing a total emotional breakdown.

It's been said that depression is anger turned inward. This is resonating with me in a powerful way. I've been angry for a lot of years.
When my kids were younger, I would yell at them; throwing my fear and anger and lack of understanding and control about my world around in irritated tones, frustrated huffing, and a lot of resentment. It wasn't safe for me to direct those emotions to my (then) husband as I was subconsciously aware that it would cost me somehow, and my friends didn't live in our house, so my kids were the ones who heard my hurt... buying me temporary protection from depression but also carrying shame and guilt to my heart while inflicting pain and sadness onto theirs.
As they got older, my approach changed. I learned to accept that my family is different than the one I imagined years ago, and I threw myself into getting all of the support and help I could for them- determined to give each of them the best chance of happiness, health and success in this world. The anger was no longer outwardly evident as I'd stopped yelling, began truly enjoying time with them, and felt free from the rust of anger in my soul.

I've worked through a ton of emotional baggage and hangups over the last few years. Rebuilding my life authentically, learning who I am as a woman and mother on my own, surprising myself with how strong and resourceful I am, and enjoying my friendships in a way I wasn't free to when I was still married.

But now, the anger has begun to seep out.  Anger I haven't been aware of  has risen to the surface as a kind of heavy cream no longer able to sit at the bottom of my consciousness out of view. I've realized within the last few weeks just how very angry I am at the sheer level of effort, energy, consistency and sacrifice it takes to parent children with mental health issues. Not angry that I have to do it for them, angry that I have to do it alone. I began to recognize the massive weight of responsibility that sits on my shoulders- and I worry about something happening to me, leaving four kids without their touchstone.  I've been angry that they have to face mental health struggles at all- complicating their lives in ways that feels unfair and unjust. I've been angry that I've allowed myself to become the essential one in their lives because I didn't ask for help from their other parent, but also angry that the other parent doesn't ask how he can help not only relieve some of the pressure on me, but help to nurture them.
Ugly, dark, pulsating anger that no longer fits inside of my chest but is forcing its way out. Anger that has scared, embarassed and humiliated me. 

What exacerbates this is the shame that seems to be a sibling to anger and depression. It suffocates me further isolating me from the world. Shame because I know this season of depression has hurt people around me. I can see it. I taste the disappointment, hurt, confusion and rejection of those who I love and who love me.... and feel powerless to heal it. I've pulled deep into my cocoon - to preserve what little emotional energy I've had as I've navigated a year of residential treatment for my son and finally finding space to pursue support for my other kids.
Your texts and emails and voice mails go unanswered. Plans aren't made. I've worked to become invisible at some level- because the weight of my sadness has felt too heavy to carry into the space of others. The very few who sit on the inside of my circle have borne the brunt of my intense moodiness, me testing the waters, and anger misplaced. It's been an ugly fall and winter for some of those who care about me deeply.
I know I've been angry, and I've chalked it up to the grief cycle I've experienced in an ongoing loop for the past 14 years. But this is different. I melted down last night and the toxic hurt that poured out like acid left me sobbing on my bed in the fetal position. This morning, I felt the quiet whisper of God... when are you going to let me take it? Heal that hurt? Trust me to do it? The tears came again and the hot shame of the wretchedness I'd thrown around washed over me. As I drove, I pressed the gas pedal down hard and slipped into the cathartic world of a pounding bass line and fast driving.... but the thoughts swirled, and I began to see. The only way back to me, back to a place of health with my loved ones, a place where I once again have the energy to connect like I used to.. is to let the anger go. I can't stand up under its weight any longer, and I want to be free.
So today, I plan on buying some thrift store dishes, and will find a place to smash them one by one. Symbolically destroying the thoughts that have poisoned my mind. I've also committed to myself that I will be outside this evening, and build a fire again; returning to some of the routines that feed my soul. This evening however, I'll be writing each ugly thing that has burned me up on the inside onto slips of paper that I'll drop into the fire and let them be consumed on the outside.
The cycle of depression (for me at least) seems to be fueled by guilt, shame, and anger. I'm taking every bit of courage I have left to stand up against it and say.. no more.
If you love me and I've let you down- please know I know already. That's part of what has hurt me too. Knowing how my effort at survival has bruised others through my isolation. Please know that this is only one short chapter in my life. I hate it in so many ways, yet find the comforting irony in knowing that as a mental health advocate who'd never struggled with depression before.. this has been an incredibly rich education. Don't count me out yet... I'll rise again... each time as a freer, healthier me.

Bring It

Facebook has the 'memories' feature where it shows you things posted on this same day throughout the years. Sometimes this is a fun app, other days it can be a bit painful, and on days like today, some memories prove powerful.
One of the photos that showed in my memories feed was this one from 7 years ago.

When I saw it, I gasped. I don't know this person. Obviously, it's me, however I don't recognize me in her at all. It's a hard photo to look at- So much was gong on under the surface- and a lot of it I only felt the negative energy from- but I had no idea what was truly happening in my life. No tangible evidence had been uncovered to release me into the awareness that the crazy I was feeling wasn't me at all... That would come a couple of years later. If you had asked me how I was at this time, I would have told you that life was challenging, but I was happy. I'm not sure that I believed that, or wanted so badly for it to be true that it became my mantra. And when life was painful- I bowed to my conditioning and believed I was the problem.

I believe I was depressed, and broken, and completely lost. I felt like a total failure as a mother, and my marriage simply existed; it didn't have the beauty, safety, fulfillment or growth I'd always assumed I'd experience. I had no idea who I was, how strong I could be, nor how wildly capable. I'd bought into the lie that I was crazy, incompetent, 'too much', inadequate, and a nuisance. What kills me the most though, is that I absorbed all of that- and began to believe it. And it shows. My eyes are tired and sad, I'm heavy, I look timid, and I only remember many weeks and months of survival and simply getting through one grey day after another.

This weekend is my 40th birthday. It's a strange thought, as I don't feel what I thought 40 would feel like- and yet, I'm also aware that in more recent years, 40 has become a poster child of renewal, rebirth, authenticity, and health- and if that is what 40 means now, then I welcome it with arms open wide. Some friends and I talked about turning 40 when we were in our late 20s and early 30s. We would talk about how we wanted to be better at 40 than we were at 25- and I can honestly say..... I did it. When I look at this recent photo- I see peace.

 Acceptance. A woman who knows her worth and just how incredibly strong and competent she truly is. I see a woman who recognizes places in her that need growth, and yet celebrates places where she has busted out of cages of expectations to prove to herself and her children that she can do anything she puts her mind to. I see freedom. A warrior who has taken the stones life threw at her face and instead stacked them under her feet. I see someone who no longer fears what others say because she knows her heart and her value and what she has to offer the world. I see a woman who rests knowing she is truly, fully loved by her God... no longer shrouded in shame from self-inflicted condemnation. I see life. I'm proud of this girl. I'm amazed by her. Sometimes I sit back and marvel at how far I've come and the ways in which I've grown and risen to each occasion. So I've decided not to fear this culturally labeled 'milestone birthday', instead, I'm going to grab 40 by the horns and make 25 look on with jealousy.

Stretched

I have always believed there's a 'perfect' exercise and a 'perfect' way of eating for each of us. The routine and nourishment that works well with our body type.

I tried running for a handful of years because many of my friends are runners. I wanted to be the girl who got up early and hit the pavement with the wind on my face and the pounding of my feet the only sound in my ears. But I hate running. I enjoy it for about 1/2 a mile, and then I want to lie down on the ground to catch my breath and look at the sunrise. I tried all kinds of aerobics, thinking with my dance background I'd find it enjoyable and easy, but I was the girl tripping over the step blocks and banging into the people beside me because I would be several counts behind. I never went to more than a handful of classes because I soon learned that I hate aerobics. I convinced my incredibly fit and strong friend Thera to train me in in Cross Fit. I wanted to quit every time within 2.8 seconds of starting the workout, throw the kettle bells at her face, never utter the word burpee, and while it's revered in the Cross Fit community to throw up after working out, I didn't find that to be a particularly fun part of the process because I hate Cross Fit. I tried Pilate's again, but quickly realized that.. nope....Nothing had changed since I'd taken it in college as part of my required curriculum. It wasn't that I didn't like my professor, I just hate Pilate's. I joined a gym and decided I preferred the steam room to the weight room, because I hated the gym. I wasn't sure I'd ever find exercise I truly loved.
And then I found yoga.
It was like coming home. I realized I'm not lazy in working out, I was just doing the wrong type. I amazed myself with how hard I would work, how much strength I have, and how I delighted in the effort it takes to steady my body and overactive mind.

I am a member of a local yoga studio. It's not far from my house, and I love the staff, the classes offered, and the community it pulls together. For more than a year I was in the studio faithfully. Twice a week I would go to my mat and strengthen my body while quieting my mind. It was a place where all stress, fear, worry, and schedules would dissipate and I was left with peace and stillness. However, last year brought many changes, many challenges with my children, and a much busier schedule. I wasn't able to get into class as often, and as I drove past the studio, sadness would catch in my throat. I could feel my body softening, and my mind hardening. My back was stiff and my irritation rose. I knew I needed to get back, and yet each time I made plans to go, something would get in the way. As we crossed into the new year, I was keenly aware that attention to my personal well being was and continues to be a crucial element in my ability to parent well. I was determined to carve out space for myself in order to offer a healthier mother to my children. I finally found my way back to my mat today. As I sat in the heated room and waited for the class to begin, I was able to breathe deeply and settle my mind and body. 75 minutes later I was soaked with sweat, muscles shaking, and my mind was completely stilled. The combination of physical movement, focus on breath, and attention to balance allows my mind to rest. There remains no energy left to analyze, worry, or plan for my day. I find time daily to pray, I do well with reading scripture as well as other books.....but there is no other place in my life that affords me the ability to settle every piece of me into calm contentment. I know I have to make this a priority again. I'm so very grateful to have found what works for me- the rub is in finding the time to execute it. Today was a powerful reminder that disciplining my time to create space for self-care will always be worth it.

Invincible

I love Kelly Clarkson's song Invincible.
You should listen to it. It's my anthem these days. I spent so many years unsure of myself, feeling like a failure, afraid, and anxious and wounded.
When you're in a codependent relationship you spend all of your time preoccupied with making sure everyone else is ok. The inherent problem in that is you can never keep anyone in a place of wellness for any sustainable length of time, and in looking outward, you will always lose yourself.

I've written some about the challenges I've had with my kids and the difficulties I've faced with raising kids on the autism spectrum, but the painful part is that Samuel wasn't diagnosed until he was 8.  For 8 years of hardship, tantrums, chaos, I believed I was a failure. I had extended family tell me it was my fault, and I was being punished for something. I had strangers and doctors tell me to put him in time out more, or spank him more, and I spent years in shame and anger because I thought that my child's struggles were directly related to my inability to be a good mother. Years went by and I began to really believe I was a failure and there was no hope. I was unhappy as a mother, as a wife, and as a woman. I look back at pictures and can't believe how dead I looked. If you look at me now- at 38 compared to how I looked at 30, there is no comparison. I had resigned to a life of hurt, and guilt and shame, and disappointment. When you're a codependent you feel responsible for everything that happens. And so each event that happened to us felt like a cause and effect tightrope. I wasn't good enough or strong enough, or consistent enough, or smart enough or skinny enough to prevent all of the horrible things that were happening, and so I died inside some more. When I had to learn to stand on my own because of divorce, I began to realize I'm none of those things. I began to take responsibility for my part in my struggles, but no one else's behavior. I began to learn each of us have a reality that is based in our perception and it's not my job to make everyone like or understand me. It's only my job to take care of myself which will allow me to be the best mother I can be. Now I understand that none of the struggles my kids have suffered with are because of me. I'm sad I wasn't able to see my worth clearly enough then to love my children better, but when you know better, you do better, and so now I am. The amazing thing is that though we still have issues, and conflict and frustrations and struggles, I no longer internalize it as a deficit on my part. And because of that, my kids are doing better than they've ever done. I can see clearly the positive changes in them that are directly related to my rebirth into health. I am alive, and for the first time since childhood, I really enjoy myself again. I'm carving out my place in writing and editing to provide for my family and headed into living the dream I wanted for myself but had run from in defeat. I've learned I'm not weak or a failure. I will fail for sure, but I am strong and resilient and will always get back up. I no longer fear hurt and pain because I've proven to myself I can be knocked out but not taken out. I could kiss Kelly Clarkson for the words in this song- I know reading song lyrics can be tedious, so I encourage you to go listen to it and celebrate the strength of you! Even better if you belt it out at the top of your lungs!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XQpGaAwlrkA

You know I was broke down, I had hit the ground
I was crying out, I couldn't make no sound
No one hears the silent tears collecting
You know I had lost hope, I was all alone
Never been so long till you came along
Teacher, I feel the dots connecting

Beat down on me, beat down like a waterfall
Cause I can take on so much more than I had ever dreamed
So beat down on me, beat down like a waterfall
Cause baby, I am ready to be free

Now I am invincible
No, I ain't a scared little girl no more
Yeah, I am invincible
What was I running for
I was hiding from the world
I was so afraid, I felt so unsure
Now I am invincible
Another perfect storm

Now I am a warrior, a shooting star
Know I got this far, had a broken heart
No one hears the silent tears collecting
Cause it's being weak, but strong in the truth I found
I have courage now, gonna shout it out
Teacher, I feel the dots connecting

Beat down on me, beat down like a waterfall
Cause I can take on so much more than I had ever dreamed
So beat down on me, beat down like a waterfall
Cause baby, I am ready to be free

Now I am invincible
No, I ain't a scared little girl no more
Yeah, I am invincible
What was I running for
I was hiding from the world
I was so afraid, I felt so unsure
Now I am invincible
Another perfect storm

I was running from an empty threat
Of emptiness
I was running from an empty threat
That didn't exist
I was running from an empty threat
Of abandonment
I was running from an empty threat
That didn't exist

Now I am invincible
No, I ain't a scared little girl no more
Yeah, I am invincible
What was I running for
I was hiding from the world
I was so afraid, I felt so unsure
Now I am invincible
Another perfect storm