I haven't posted on my blog for a few months. I wasn't quite sure how to get my blog back up and running. I usually post updates about my little family and other random things. There's an article that's going around the Internet, that made me want to share my story. So, here we go.
Depression and anxiety is so real, but it doesn't get the awareness that I think it deserves.
That's me, when I was 14 and in the eighth grade. (Ignore the date on the picture) I was just a regular teenager, getting into trouble, crushing on cute boys, I had a ton of friends, I had homework everyday and I was with my family all the time. Now, you wouldn't think that a regular, fourteen year old girl would struggle, but that's the time that my life changed.
Towards the end of my eighth grade year, is when I started to cut myself, and I still have the scars. It was Spring time and really warm out, but I wore long sleeves and jackets everyday to hide it. Until one day, I got called down to the counselor's office because one of my friends noticed and "turned me in." She called my mom to let her know what was going on. I remember that day, my mom picked me up from school, parked the truck in the drive way and asked me why I was doing that to myself. Only thing I could say was, "Because I need attention."
If you know me, I come from a very big family. As of today, I am child number nine out of thirty kids. You read that right, thirty kids. Back then, I didn't have so many siblings, but I didn't get the attention that I wanted or needed. My mom took me to a counselor and a doctor to get me on medication. The doctor told me that even though I wasn't getting the attention at home, I was depressed and he wanted to help me. He put me on some medication and I hated that I had to get on it. Even to this day I still hate it. My mom would make sure I would take it every morning. I hated it so much that some times I would lie and say that I took it.
For the rest of middle school and all throughout high school, I was on and off of my medication. I hate medication, because I don't feel like my true self and I feel like I have to fake being happy on the outside.
After I graduated high school I moved back and forth between my parents house and ended up staying at my mom's. Her and I both ended up seeing a counselor together and I also went by myself. I struggled really bad for two years. Trying to figure out what I was going to do with my life. I had no direction. I just did whatever I wanted to do, and I messed up a lot. Until the summer of 2013 where my life changed again.
July of 2013, I met a really cute boy named Trevor.
I remember when we did a weekend date, up at Bear Lake at his Uncle's place at the end of July. One night we went out and sat out under the big moon and just talked. We both opened up to each other and told each other everything about our pasts. I was scared that I was going to scare him away because of my depression and anxiety. I thought he would be weirded out. He didn't care though, he didn't care about my past, he just cared about where we could go. That was also the night he told me that he loved me.
The first weekend in August, my brother Ryan got home from his mission. I got a couple of days off of work, but I decided to surprise Trevor and drove back down to Provo. I showed up at his apartment and he was surprised, but he just wanted to have a guys night with his roommates. I was bummed because I drove all the way back for him. We got into an argument in the middle of the street. I went back to my apartment and he went to his. I took some pills, way too many of two different kinds. I called my best friend Courtney crying and told her to come get me. When she got to me I was very hysterical and just didn't want to be here. She called Trevor, he came right over and they drove me to the ER. I remember locking myself in the bathroom crying and I ended up calling my dad and brother. He asked me what was wrong and I told him I didn't want to be here anymore and that I had tried to overdose on pills. Trevor and Courtney both sat with me until 7:30 in the morning.
The hospital counselor came in and saw me and asked me what I wanted to do. I told her that I would go to the behavioral hospital. I checked myself in and was there for a week. That was one of the hardest weeks of my life. I regretted checking myself in there, so I tried to be really happy the first couple of days so I could get out of there fast. The doctors and counselor knew though. I wasn't getting out anytime soon.
I could only talk on the phone twice a day and could only have visitors twice a week. I knew I really freaked Trevor out and I thought this time I really did scare him away, but he stood by my side the whole time. I was finally released from the hospital, and I felt free. I went and saw my family doctor and got back on some medication, but I didn't stay on it that long.
The end of August Trevor and I got engaged! Then September 10th we eloped down to the court house. The first couple of days were fun and I loved being with him all the time. We moved into an apartment and that's when reality hit. I had no idea how to be a wife or how married life was suppose to work. I am so use to having someone around all the time, that whenever Trevor would go to school or work I would beg him to stay home or come home early. When he was gone, I would just sit in our apartment and wait for him to come home. I was really depressed.
The first couple of months of our marriage was really hard. We were getting use to being married and what we were going to do with our future. We ended up moving to Washington. Trevor got a job and I ended up getting a part time job. But even after a few months of being there, deep down I was still really depressed. No one knew, because I don't like talking about it, I'd rather hide it.
Five months after we got married, we found out that I was pregnant! We were scared, but excited at the same time.
I would say that I wasn't depressed during my pregnancy, but I was definitely wrong. At the time, we lived in the middle of no where. Trevor worked the night shift, so I was home alone during the night. All I did was sleep, eat, and only got up to go to the bathroom. I would also wait for Trevor to come home, because I hated being by myself.
Nine months flew by, because our Bentley Jess made his debut three weeks early at the end of October! I knew I was going to be a great mom, because I helped with my younger siblings all the time. But once we got back home, and got all settled in, my dad and mother in law left and Trevor went back to work, I was absolutely terrified. I was so scared to be by myself with my son. I cried everyday because I had no idea what to do with my own child. I felt like a failure, and I ended up getting even more depressed than I already was.
At my two week check up appointment with my doctor, we talked about PPD, which is postpartum depression. She asked me a bunch of questions and in the end I had postpartum depression. I went back for my six week check up and she said I looked like I was doing well and said I probably just had the baby blues. Deep down inside though, I knew that wasn't true. The first couple months after Bentley was born, we're really hard for me. I was trying to figure out how to be a mom, as well as being a wife. My depression plummeted, but I kept going and kept faking being happy on the outside.
Postpartum depression is so so real, and needs to be talked about.
So before we moved from North Dakota, I went and saw my doctor and got back on medication. This is the first time over the past eight years, that I have taken my medication every single day. My doctor said it'll take about three months for myself to actually notice a difference. It's been about two months, and I still don't feel like they're helping, but I have to stick to it.
If you haven't heard of The Emily Effect, I encourage you to look it up, and learn more about it. Her husband is raising awareness about the effects of postpartum depression. I cried after learning about this, because I am still struggling with my depression and Bentley is a year and a half! There have been so many days where I just want to sleep all day and not get up. There are days where I don't want to be an adult and days that I don't want to be a mom. It breaks my heart, because I have a precious boy who needs me. I ask myself this everyday though, "How can I do it, when I'm completely broken on the inside."
You know what? I just have to. I had to get help. I'm continuing to get help and that's the best thing I can do. I need to continue to push forward, not only for myself, but for my little family that needs me.
If you're struggling with depression and anxiety, I encourage you to seek help. I also encourage you to share your story with others. You will never know if you helped someone by not sharing it. If my story can at least help one person, I did my job.
Xoxo,
Emi
No comments:
Post a Comment