Today was another day I survived through the heavy haze of lowness that clouds my vision literally and figuratively.
I woke up groggy, around 10 am, feeling the effects of the prescribed chemistry I rely on nightly to dream dreams about sunflowers growing on mars and about all the fine boutiques I own with my best friend, filled with repurposed treasures and classic clothing organized into a vast array of spaces; but still groggy non the less. I didn’t feel like getting up right away; a familiar feeling. I was awakened by the sweet sounds of my two-year old singing her usual tune of mommy and my 11 month old cheering her on. I love to hear their voices, a sweet reminder of how blessed I am to be a mother, but I have to be honest, because this is an account of how I LIVE with depression’s effects affecting my every move and thought. So let’s be honest; there’s freedom in honesty I’m learning. I was unable to heed to their sweet calls. My inability to respond swiftly and to even conjure up a little motivation to react with happy thoughts about responding to the beautiful sound of their innocent interaction, made me feel the haze grow a little stronger.
I love to hear their voices, a sweet reminder of how blessed I am to be a mother, but I have to be honest, because this is an account of how I LIVE with depression’s effects affecting my every move and thought. So let’s be honest; there’s freedom in honesty
I mustered up enough strength to call my husband to our bedroom for a plea for help. As gracious and patient as he has been over all of these months, he without hesitation came to my aid. The bad mom thoughts lingered, a little more drift compared to when I first woke up, but the reassuring sound of my children being embraced by their dad and carried away to a point at which I no longer heard their laughs, gave me a little peace. I barely moved from the spot I woke and suddenly my thoughts shifted to a zone free of responsibilities; a far cry from the usual zone engulfed with figurative thoughts of running away and hiding in a place of isolation. The haze begin to lift a little and I didn’t feel bad about it.
How far I have come in my journey with depression. Once, the thought of relinquishing my responsibilities would charge me to defy my need for avoidance of doing too much to subsequently trigger a downward spiral into a low valley that would take heaven to pull me out of, and now, relinquishing has become my greatest charge. Who knew that me recognizing my inability to perform my motherly duty could be so rewarding? I laid there in my bed only thinking about nothing, concentrating on my self-care, and confident in, as well as, thankful for the ability of my husband to care for our children; what a freeing moment. After about an hour of mental clarity, I got out of bed with a little more ease and was able to swiftly attend to my husband’s messy task at hand; a task of “blowout” proportions.
Who knew that me recognizing my inability to perform my motherly duty could be so rewarding?
I immediately went into mom mode with no thoughts of how I was going to motivate myself to DO something to help my husband and children. As I went into our bathroom, stepping over colorful styrofone alphabets and numbers, my mind flooded with a to do list. Knowing that my two-year old loves to play innocently with her younger sister in the tub, I motion to get my infant from my husband’s arms and suddenly I’m over taken by that oh so familiar haze. I feel myself falling into a trap where if I do one more thing, I would return to the low valley state of mind that would give anyone in perfect mental health nightmares.
I feel myself falling into a trap where if I do one more thing, I would return to the low valley state of mind that would give anyone in perfect mental health nightmares.
Holding my infant as her sister sweetly says “come on sage-y, come on sage-y”, I ignore the bad thoughts creeping in saying “what kind of weak mom would you be if you can’t bathe both of them?!”, and hand her gently back to my husband. Without hesitation, I honestly told him that “I am UNABLE to bathe both of them right now”. Instead of letting my mental roommate lure me into dwelling on “how weak I was”, I pushed through those thoughts to find the positive in the situation, even if I didn’t totally have the mental strength to agree with them.
Progress. I enjoyed my one on one time with my two-year old, Sydney, and the slight lift in the haze that was swiftly coming back with a vengeance. This was my reward; my inabilities.