Just. Be. Happy.

Those of you who aren't religious may not follow this post so well, and that's okay.

I came to a realization.

Well, first, before I get ahead of myself, let me start at the beginning.

My car broke. (Piece of crap.) And then my husband's car broke. (Also a piece of crap.) And currently we are both home, unable to find a way in to work. It's a pretty crappy feeling. And to boot, I have been face-to-face fighting with postpartum depression for a good while.

Then I remembered something. It was only here recently that I admitted on my blog that I felt as if we were to be struck with some big, horrible, happening, I might crack and crumble and fall.

Well guess what.

I DIDN'T.

I'm still standing. I didn't even cry or freak out when my husband's car broke. I didn't feel the need to. I just this overwhelming sense of calm. Like I knew everything was going to be okay. It's absolutely inexplicable. I had no real reason to believe everything would turn out fine. As of late, things are snowballing and worsening for us. So far, things haven't even totally started looking up yet.

But.

I'm.

Okay.

I almost wonder if it was a challenge by the Devil. "Oh, really? This girl's about to snap? Ohhh, okay, let me see what I can do to help her along..."

Um, sorry, lame-o. Epic failure, there. I've got someone bigger on my side. And honestly, I think Jehovah is the only reason I didn't fall apart at this sudden turn of events. Car repairs cost money, and two car repairs? Well, it ain't cheap. And I just got back from maternity leave, and we have a newborn, and I'm still trying to straighten out and manage our finances - and then THIS. But that's just fine and dandy. I'm moving forward. And I'm CALM.

Me? Calm? Is that even physically possible? (Sometimes, I've wondered.)

Well, I'm here to tell you that it is. And then I had an epiphany.

I will never be happy if I depend on others for my happiness.

When I fall into my bad spells and begin to self-hate and wallow, I walk around in this murky fog just begging for someone to come to my rescue. (Which no one ever does. Not that I'm bitter about that. Okay, yes, I'm a bitter old hag. Sue me.) But it's no one's responsibility but my own to make sure that I am happy. Yeah, it'd be great to have some support, but since it's just not coming, I've got to keep it moving.

Finding happiness is like finding yourself. You don't find happiness, you make happiness. You choose happiness. -- David Leonhardt

All seasons are beautiful for the person who carries happiness within. -- Horace Friess

Being happy doesn't mean everything is perfect. It means you have decided to look beyond the imperfections. -- Author Unknown

My life in this world is never going to be great. That's fine. I have something so much better to look forward to.

All I have to do, for now, is survive today.

And then tomorrow will come. And I will survive tomorrow.

That's it. That's all I have to do. And since I'm going to be here anyway, I might as well...

Just. Be. Happy.

An Objective View of PPD

I'm thinking about it a lot this week.

I've just had a bad few weeks. As I've said before, I've gotten super spectacular at hiding, suppressing, and ignoring many problems that plague me. They're snowballing and avalanching, however, and I can't seem to keep up.

That said, we'll say today is a decent day. As long as I don't think too hard about the recent chain of events that's sent my head reeling, I'm fine. (Do I want to talk about it? No. It's highly personal. Have I done anything wrong? No. Has anyone close to me done anything wrong? No. Some things have come to light that are threatening to completely shatter me if I let them. We'll leave it at that.)

Today, I am thinking objectively about PPD and why it is so hard to seek help.

1) It is SO hard to trust people. Especially for me. I already feel as though depression is a weakness. I despise crybabying and whining and moaning and griping. I never want to seem like that kind of person. EVER. You can say that part of the equation is nothing more than having too much pride. And you'd be right. Also, this world has gone downhill. We're so focused on technology and material things and getting things done NOW and getting what we want NOW that we as humans tend to be a bit self-absorbed. That being the case, it's hard to speak with people when we feel like a burden - a whiny, nutty, messy burden. Add to that the low self esteem that comes with depression, and we genuinely feel as if nobody cares to know.

2) We don't feel as if anything is REALLY wrong. Maybe this is also pride, maybe this is denial. Maybe this is just part of our human tendency to be unable to admit fault. If we admit we are depressed, we admit we have a problem - a problem we already feel is somehow our fault, even if it isn't. That can be a monumental task in and of itself.

3) We have experience with depressed persons. You know that one person who just seems to be a walking black hole? They drag everyone around them down into the abyss with them. Every waking moment for them is filled with heartache and tears and me-me-me, sad-sad-sad, die-die-die. It gets old. It gets annoying. We despise those traits. We decide we never want to BE that person. And then we become that person. And then we despise ourselves.

4) We feel as though being depressed equals being crazy. Or even lazy. I mean, who in their right mind would have such a constant, negative outlook? Well that's just it. You're NOT in your right mind. But you're not crazy. Depression, these days, is wayyyy too common. If you don't get down and overwhelmed and sad from time to time, then you might want to question your sanity. As far as laziness? Never that. Depression is a killer and a disease. It will rob you of your health, your happiness, and your energy. Depression does not equal laziness.

5) We understand that others close to us are depressed, too. When we know that someone else feels just as bad as we do, it can be next to impossible to willingly unload our burden upon that person as well.

6) Therapy carries SUCH a stigma. "You're taking off work? Oh, what for? Where you headed?" Nowhere, just to the nut-doctor so he can fix my head. Nobody wants to admit to that! We don't want the world to look at us like we're crazy, we're weak, we've lost our everlovin' mind. But that's hardly the case. It takes strength to ask for help, to reach out, and to work towards getting better. Letting yourself wallow takes no strength; yes, it saps you of your energy, but it doesn't require strength or persistence. Moving forward does. And sometimes, it hurts. It hurts like Hades. But that which does not kill you can only make you stronger.

7) There is a comfort in depression. Now THAT sounds odd to say. But it's true. After a while, it becomes what we know, and it gets comfortable. Is that a good thing? Hardly! When your scary thoughts stop scaring you, it is REALLY beyond time to get help!

8) We feel like nobody could really understand. This is not at all true. We know, deep down, it's not true. Other people have been through what we have been through. Others have suffered. It's so cliche, but others have it much worse. Depression makes it hard to be objective, however. Regardless, even, of the fact that those we love have never experienced the things we have, they love us enough (usually) to TRY. They can exercise empathy and put themselves in our shoes and work to see why we feel the way we feel. We just have to ask, and then we have to let them. And if that person lets you down, don't give up. Find someone else to listen. Persevere. And if YOU happen to be the one approached by a depressed person, just LISTEN. Just try. You might make a world of difference.

9) It's not depression; it's just anger. WRONG. Depression can manifest itself in anger, bitterness, and frustration. And sometimes, boyyyy is it overwhelming. Bad. We almost turn into a completely different person. Think: "Hulk SMASH!!" It's something like that. If you have an anger problem, you need to seek help and find out why before you hurt yourself or someone else.

10) We let ourselves imagine that if we wait a little while, give it more time, it will go away on its own. That's not exactly the case. Sometimes, it gets buried, and then it rots and festers and begins to eat away at your insides. It's only a matter of time before it bubbles up again, and this time, it's a nasty, snarling, human-eating beast. That's never a good scenario. It's good to seek help BEFORE the inner beast gets too big to tackle.

Writing helps. Total self-evaluation helps. At least for me. I know part of my problem is failure to rely fully on Jehovah. So I don't need to hear about how I should work on that. Thanks, but I'm aware. Even still, I probably need therapy to deal with some of these seemingly insurmountable issues. (Yeah, probably is pushing it. I DO - no ifs, ands, or butts. See? Still have problems admitting to it.)

My best advice, and my conclusion?

To the depressed, Just. Seek. Help. That's all you have to do. Get the ball rolling. It'll all fall together from there. Just stick with it and be persistent.

To those dealing with the depressed,  I beg you, Have. Patience. Try to understand. Keep your judgments and harsh comments to yourself. They DO. NOT. HELP. And they will only make that person NEVER want to come to you again. Do you really want that? Before you quickly say yes, think about it.

Sigh. What a piece of work. That took a lot out of me. Zombie mom is now off to do something that requires considerably less effort.

Til next time, cyberspace.

My Journey Back to Sanity

I am a writer. Heart, body, and soul. Nearly every part of me, nearly every aspect of my personality, has something to do with writing.

I'm a control freak. I love inventing stories, dictating the way a character's life plays out, planning and imagining every minute detail. Which brings me to my next character trait.

I'm slightly OCD. Detail, detail, detail. Perfection! I am my own worst critic. I like having things JUST SO, and when things are out of order, my whole BRAIN gets out of order, and it's impossible to function. This works out well when building a story that actually flows well and makes sense.

I am a hopeless romantic. Ahh, that wonderfully dreadful writer's trait. If it weren't for the romanticism of the writer, we wouldn't have such beautiful stories as The Notebook, eh?

I love to read. I can spend hours with my nose stuck in a book reading the imaginings of another human being. It is endlessly fascinating.

I use big words. Come on now. This is self explanatory.

I feel better after I write. Reading over my last blog post, I was a little shocked at the honesty and disgusted at the wallowing self pity. I already felt better just getting it out of my system. Today, I wrote a guest post for a fellow blogger and Twitter friend, and I'm nearly floating on the clouds. I feel really, REALLY good about what I wrote.

I need to do better.

I stopped writing. It's hard to do with two kids, a husband, and a full time job. I am a growed up now. I have the big R word: Responsibilities.

But I also have a responsibility to myself. And that is to maintain my sanity so I can maintain all of the above mentioned responsibilities.

Lightbulb!

I need to write more. Nothing exorcises inner demons better than the written word.

I'm ready to get better. I'm ready to BE better.

Sanity... here we come!!

We lost the pregnancy.

And, really, it's okay. I've had plenty of time to think about it. I took an entire week off work. (I was SO ready to go back - hah!)

Maybe it's just not time to have another one. I know that Jehovah knows better than I do. It's not known whether or not Jehovah will return babies lost before birth to their mothers in the new system. Somehow I am okay with that. If he sees fit, I know that he will give me the pregnancy back. It could be that there never was a "real" baby to begin with. In my humble opinion, it's better to lose a baby earlier than later in the pregnancy after you can feel the baby kick.

At any rate, things are going a lot better now :)

This has taught me a lot, though.

I've learned that I really can't rely only on myself all the time. I have a tendency to withdraw into a shell when things go wrong. I don't like to be around others, and I don't like to put my emotions on display. This, however, was something I couldn't handle on my own. I had to open myself up to others and let out my frustration and disappointment before I could move on. That was pretty hard for me to do, and I will admit, it was done quite begrudgingly ;)

I also learned that I need to rely on Jehovah more. In hard times, I pull away from him as well. I neglect prayer, and this usually ends with me engaging in self destructive behavior, doing things I know I ought not, as a way out of the close, personal relationship I usually strive to maintain with our Creator. As a parent, I can only imagine how hurtful this must be. Thankfully, I caught myself this time. I don't think I ever fully understood why I did the things I've done. Now, I get it. I can't really explain it, but I get it. I know that I don't have to go down that road anymore. It's like a light bulb turning on in my head.

I didn't take my Celexa at all last week either. Now I almost can't remember why I stopped. I know now that, though I admire those that can handle their depression well without medication, I'm not ready to stop taking Celexa. Sometimes, hearing stories of how others can kick it in the butt without happy pills makes me feel inadequate somehow. That's not at all true. I am strong for realizing that I need help. There are so many people I know that are too proud to admit that they need help. I think it's a positive trait.

I cut my hair and had my husband do highlights :) I am moving onto another chapter of my life. I thought I wanted a baby. Now I'm not so sure. I think it would be a better idea to wait. I finally asked my doctor about NuvaRing because I can't remember to take a pill at all. I was nervous because the Depo shot made me bleed for three months straight, and I've heard lots of horrible stories about NuvaRing and its side effects. Someone also told me they hated the NuvaRing because they could feel it. Well, I can't feel it at all, and I haven't had any nausea or bleeding (yet! I hope it stays that way...) so things are looking up.

Besides that, I had my three year old niece last weekend. Add a thirteen-month-old to the picture, and you've got quite a mess on your hands. Haha.

I need to get my new camera phone so I can take pictures of my new hair. I absolutely LOVE it :D

And please, no pity, because I honestly feel great. Better than before. I feel like it was an excellent learning experience! Maybe some people might think that is a horrible way of looking at things. Guess what? It's how I cope. And I'm okay. I might have lost, but I haven't lost everything. Things aren't perfect, but they are great. I have my loving family, I have my friends, and I have my God, Jehovah. What more could a girl ask for?