If I had to choose one word, it would be: indifferent.
Usually I feel some sort of melancholy over the passing year and a jump right into a new one but not this year. I don’t really care. I wasn’t the least bit excited and on the other side of that I wasn’t the least bit disappointed either. There have been years that I wanted to stop time and not go forward into a new calendar. Mostly because the year had been good and what would a new one bring? But this time, for whatever reason, I could care less.
I was telling Mike the other night that lately I feel like a drone. Like I just keep doing the same things everyday. And it’s not like I want new things to do because I feel pretty good about being home and plugging away here. I don’t want a job out of the home. So I’m not sure why these things aren’t as fulfulling as I know they should be.
I feel like there is a wall, like I’m stuck in a rut. A rut that has been getting deeper over the last year and a wall that keeps getting higher with no top in sight for me to climb over.
I’m pretty good at going through daily life looking normal and happy. Most people wouldn’t even know that there is way too much stuff in my head for me to deal with. And most distractions throughout the day make me forget long enough to feel a little normal. I can talk on the phone to my friends and family and feel normal. I can play with C and feel normal. I can cook supper and do laundry and feel normal. It’s the moments by myself or at the end of the day that fill my heart with ache and my mind with screams for help.
It’s sounds drastic and I think it is. Don’t worry, I’m not suicidal or anything but I would really like to sort through all this.
I know where I’m supposed to be. I’m supposed to be in Jesus’ arms while he makes everything ok. I just can’t get there. Oh I want to, I just can’t. And I don’t know why.
Christmas was a good distraction but coming out on the other side now seems way worse than before. Like sort of hopeless feeling. Logically I know there is always hope. I know there are things I can do to help myself but I don’t know why I can’t seem to do them.
I hate it.
I was reading that depression caused by chemical imbalances is often brought on by trauma or a significant event in ones life. In thinking back over my life I’ve been realizing that depression and anxiety have been part of my life way longer than I knew before. It’s just I didn’t know what to call it as a child and therefore just thought it was something I had to deal with.
I remember crying and feeling completely hopeless once but I remember telling my mom when she asked that it was because the Flintstones weren’t on. I couldn’t have been more than 5 years old but I will never forget how I felt that time. It was the worst feeling in the pit of my stomach. I know it’s not something you’re going to understand but for a 5 year old to feel dread like that…it can’t be normal. I can’t even explain that well enough to make sense to you. But it’s a vivid memory that I will never forget.
In grade five, I used to complain about stomach aches so I could stay home from school. I would cry until my mom let me stay home. My stomach didn’t hurt, I remember that. When a doctor asked if there was a reason I didn’t want to go to school I said because I was afraid someone was going to hurt my mom and my cat…the two things that meant the most to me at that age.
In grade seven I started having panic attacks…only I didn’t know what they were. I just thought I was going crazy. I would get this feeling like I was in a dream. Like nothing around me was real. It was so scary to me.
From the eighth grade until about a year after I got married, I somehow forgot about most of that. The panic went away and I thought I finally had control of my life. I was popular in high school and good at sports. I felt like a real person for the first time.
Around 2001 it came back full force. And this time I knew what it was. I talked to people who used to have anxiety and listened to how they got over it. I got saved in 2002 and slowly climbed back up the ladder out of the pit that is anxiety but not before God let me hit rock bottom after I was saved. I was so grateful to be feeling like a person again and I knew the Lord was what I needed to overcome it.
In 2005 my daughter was born. I wish I could explain to you the amount of strange feelings that came rushing back. Ones I didn’t have memories for. I was totally scared to bathe her. I was afraid to change her diaper but I had to because I was her mom. I was afraid I was going to hurt her even though I didn’t want to. Not feelings like “I want to throw this baby out the window”, no, not like that. I can’t really explain it, or don’t want to explain it.
I was terrified to leave her alone with men. Any man, even Mike. There was no way that I would ever let either of her grandfathers be alone in a room with her. One situation came up that I had to leave her with her grampy once when she was about six months old and I was just sick about it. I don’t think that’s normal, is it?
So I didn’t really know where this post was going to go when I started it today. I’ve been toying with the idea of writing this stuff down here for months now but I didn’t feel ready. Maybe today it’s pure desperation, I don’t know.
I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. I don’t want you to judge me. I don’t want you to look at my differently when I see you next time. Feel free to comment on the blog or email me but don’t feel obligated to. I wrote this down for me…the fact that a few people are reading it is really something I think I’m denying anyway 🙂
There are a million more things that I feel and a million more non-memories that are confusing me but I think that’s enough for now.
One thing I know is that this is not beyond God. I know that. I just don’t know how to give it to Him. I think maybe the problem is that I need to know exactly what it is before I can give it to Him. Make sense? I need to know what happened to me those years ago.