I think I'm broken again.
I thought I could handle it. I thought it would go away. Or maybe I WISHED it would go away, or maybe I was pretending that it wasn't happening. But today, I saw a look in my daughters eyes as I was crying that has prompted me to, once again, seek medical attention for mental illness.
I've been feeling it for a few weeks now, but I think I was in denial. I felt like admitting something was wrong again would somehow belittle the joy that is my daughter. That in admitting there's a chance the depression is back, I would be seen as a failure. And you know what? I dofeel like one. Not in a "Oh, woe is me" way, either. I just feel like I have such incredible blessings in my life, and to feel this way doesn't make sense to me. But you see, this isn't about other people. I can't give a shit what people think, this is about ME. This is about MY FAMILY. I have to fight for US.
I'm not unhappy... I'm unhealthy.
I'm not sad... I'm sick.
I forced myself to look in the mirror today. I never look in the mirror. And when I HAVE to, you know, to put on make up, or comb my hair (which is rarely ever these days, only when I have to go out in public, even then? Rarely, because what's the point? I feel like such a mess inside, that I see no point in trying to present myself as put together) Anyway, WHEN I do look in the mirror, I don't really look at myself. I'm afraid to. I'm afraid of what I'll see staring back at me, and I was right to feel that way.
I can't believe how I've let myself go. I'm fat, I'm unkept, I have bags under my eyes, and like I feared, I didn't recognize the woman I was looking at. I cried until I couldn't cry anymore. How did I let this happen? WHY did I let this happen?
Admitting this is so hard for me. What about all of the talk about how happy I am? How I feel so normal again? Was that all a lie? Was I hiding the truth? Was I in denial?
A little bit of both, I think. The birth of my daughter was one of the greatest things that has happened to me. The love she's brought into our lives, the JOY she's given to me, to her father, to her brothers and everyone else is undeniable. The love and happiness I feel when I hold her in my arms is pure and it is true. Admitting I might be depressed again, feels like I'm betraying that little girl. I can't explain it.
I've also been avoiding what's going on inside of my mind. I've been neglecting to deal with the things that are happening inside of me. Admitting this isn't easy, it's painful and I feel someone ashamed and pathetic. But deep down I know this is bigger than me. I know I got comfortable when I still had a lot of work to do on me. I put it off, and I can't put it off any longer. There's too much at stake here..
I swore my children would never again suffer because of MY depression and I meant it. I've already called to find out the steps I need to take to see a therapist. I'm not seeing a psychiatrist because I don't want to be handed pills. I want to work on myself. I want to dig through all of the garbage, the thoughts, the fears, the anger, the hurt and I want to figure it all out. I want to weed through the bullshit, I want to know what's real and what I've made up in my head. I want to be called out for selfish and immature behavior and I want to know how to fix it. I don't want a pill, but if I HAVE to take one to help me along, I will. There's no shame in doing that.
I feel horribly lost and confused at the moment and I'll need all of the support and love I can get, but I do NOT feel HOPELESS. I know there's hope and I that I'll be ok. That in itself is so telling of how much I've grown, because in the past, I would have crawled in my bed and felt hopeless. Not this time, this time I know there's a way out, I just need to find it.







If you need anything...let me know. :)