Getting Better

 When I'm depressed, doing a load of dishes or laundry or making dinner feels impossible. Literally impossible. But lately I've been able to do those things with ease, sometimes multiple at the same time, like today.

Tonight a memory flooded back to me. I remember being in the hospital crying painful tears, telling one of the amazing counselors there that I just couldn't keep going, and I didn't know what was wrong with me. I had a beautiful family and seemingly everything going for me, yet all I wanted was to be gone forever. She said, "This is 100% depression. You do have everything going for you, so the fact that you feel this way means you are depressed." I remember the sweet relief I felt in that moment. Relief that there was indeed something wrong with me (yes, I had forgotten that in that moment). Relief that depression was making me feel this way, not my lack of gratitude for how blessed my life is. Relief that we could find some solution to my sadness so that I could feel happy with my beautiful family again.

It's crazy to see what hormones do to me. I can't even describe what it feels like to see how much progress I've made in the last several months since that time in the hospital. And I feel so thankful for being able to do dishes or laundry and not struggle tearfully through them. Life is getting to be so good again.

Marriage

 If I had to choose just one thing that I am most thankful for about struggling with my mental health, it's hands down Kyle and how our relationship has grown through this trial.  Not only has he been there through the very worst times I have experienced, but he also works hard to earn money so that I can go to counseling and have a gym membership to improve my situation.  He celebrates with me when I work out and encourages me to continue swimming my half mile, improving my time, and working up to swimming a mile.  He spends some of his free time researching hormones and medicine and possible things that could help me.  He takes time out of work to go to my appointments with me so that he can be a second set of ears and an advocate for me.  He is willing to listen after every counseling session and help me continue working through the pains that come out each time.  We have come to the point where we can talk about anything.  I can be completely honest with him about how I'm feeling or what's on my mind.  He has learned to not just ask how I'm doing but to ask more detailed questions to really understand where I'm at.  He takes pictures of me doing things with my kids to help me fight the feeling that I am failing my family and am not good enough for them.  I don't know what I did to deserve such an incredible person, but I'm beyond thankful to have him in my life.  

#FeelingThankful 

#MarriageIsAGift 

#TeamAveryForever

Counseling Pain

 #VeryVulnerablePost 😬😭

This is me every week both before and after a session of counseling. It's the hardest but best thing I could do for myself. Digging up pain hurts deeply, but my hope is that someday my heart will heal from these pains and I will be thankful that I put in the hard work to get to that place.

Prized Possessions

 Hear me out for this long story, because I have to tell it for my own heart's sake.  And I'll just throw this out there now, this is not a pregnancy announcement 😉

In July of 2019, we found out I was pregnant.  It was such a sweet surprise.  I immediately felt connected to that little baby.  A friend of a friend had an Etsy shop, and when I saw this little "Made in Idaho" onesie and booties, I knew I HAD to buy them.  I also bought a little hat and mocassins from a separate place too, because I was so excited and happy.  

Then at the end of August, I started bleeding.  The baby's heart rate was fine, so I was told everything would be okay.  I came home from the hospital, and my package of baby things had arrived in the mail that very same day.  I was so happy to see these sweet purchases.  I snuggled them close and felt relief wash over me that my baby was fine after this scare.  We were in the middle of moving into our house, so I packed the outfit on top of my baby box and sealed it up.  But then things tragically got worse, and by the end of the next week, our sweet baby was gone.  

We moved into our house, and while we were unpacking, I saw a box that wasn't labeled.  I opened it, immediately gasped for air, and ran to my room to sob.  In that unlabeled box were my baby things, the very things I had saved and bought, sure that this baby would safely join our family the next April.  On the top were my purchases I had snuggled close and felt relief.  I didn't even think to label the box, because I had no clue when I was packing it up what heartbreaking events would transpire.  That tore me to pieces.  

Then in July of 2020, I went off birth control to try to have another baby.  I immediately plummeted into deep depression, but I knew it was worth it to bring one more baby into our family.  One particularly difficult day, I went to Walmart to walk around and pass a little more time.  I saw this cute hat on the clearance aisle.  I bought it as my motivation to keep going through the depression, because the end result would be worth it.  I kept it on my dresser so I could see it each day.  We did end up getting pregnant after 3 grueling months, but that pregnancy ended in more heartbreak and tears.  

And then I had a complete mental breakdown in 2021 and realized that our baby days were over.  I saved my little outfit, booties, and hats, not sure what to do with them.  I couldn't get rid of them yet, but I also couldn't bear seeing them sitting there, so I stuffed them away and thought maybe someday I would have the courage to give them to a sweet friend who was expecting.

When I found out that my friend Jessica was pregnant, I just KNEW she was the one I could give these to.  I knew she would appreciate and love them and know how much they meant to me.  I'm so darn happy for her that it's hard to contain my excitement.

My heart still hurts sometimes, but it is healing, and I know it is healing, because I've found the courage to give away some of my most prized possessions.

Stress-Free Year

According to Charlotte, if I can get to one year of mental stability, then I am considered in "remission."  If I can get to five years, then I am basically "cured."  The depression is coming up on one month of stability.  The anxiety (physical symptoms of anxiety, not the worrying thoughts of anxiety) are still holding on, so that time hasn't started yet.  I hope we can get that part under control soon.

Basically, I have to try my very hardest in the next year to avoid any additional stress or certain triggers that could cause a relapse.  This means postponing a spring break vacation to Arizona and southern Utah, not having a big family gathering (or really any family gathering) for Brooklyn's baptism, and not pushing myself too hard or committing to too many things.  

This is really hard for me.  Sometimes I feel like I am ruining my family's life through my struggles, and that hurts me deeply.  Sometimes I feel like I'm missing out on such sweet, critical years with my kids, and that hurts me too.  More than I can put into words.  Sometimes I miss being able to push myself hard and accomplish great things, or being able to commit to a variety of service and social events.

But when I feel the discouragement start to settle in, I remind myself that I am doing all of this BECAUSE I love my family and want to reach my year of stability for them.  I remember that my heart is still healing, and that's okay.  It's okay to take the time I need to push myself harder.  I still wish this could be some other way, but I just have to think how much sweeter all of these things will be when my darkness is finally far behind me.

190 Days

I think I'm finally ready to talk about this.  We'll see if I can have the courage to keep the post up and not take it down.

On August 1st, 2021, I got in my car and drove away from the safety of my home and family with no plan of returning. I felt like I had to escape the relentlessly powerful panic I had been experiencing constantly, and it seemed that there was only one way to do that. I tricked my husband into going to get his shoes on to take a walk, grabbed the keys, and left. The sky was dark and gloomy, but nothing compared to how I felt inside. I got on the highway as my mind was racing about how I was going to proceed. I knew exactly what I wanted to do. But for whatever reason, I kept driving, somehow unable to stop.

Then my phone started to ring. It was my husband. I ignored his call. I was sure that neither him nor anyone else was capable of helping me at that point. All of this had gone too far, and I couldn't bear any of it anymore. My phone rang again. It was my husband again. And once again I ignored him, still thinking that I was beyond saving. Finally on the fourth or fifth call, I hesitantly answered. He begged me to come home. In a voice that I did not recognize coming from myself, I told him that he had to let me go. After a while, he finally convinced me to meet him at a park. He grabbed my completely numb hands and took me to the hospital.

That, my friends, is why my heart and mind are packed to the brim with trauma right now. That is why any semblance of anxiety or depression brings out a response in me like never before.

But that is also why I made this video. Because 190 days later, I've made so many good memories with my family. Maybe less memories than what I would hope if I wasn't still sick much of that time, but little memories and moments nonetheless that I would have missed out on if I wouldn't have stayed, if I wouldn't have trusted in the love of my husband who told me that I was worth saving, if I wouldn't have seen the tiniest glimmer of hope when I realized that maybe there was still an option to live and to not be in so much constant pain.

We have learned in the last 190 days that magic doesn't exist. We're still trying to figure out how to help all of this get better completely, but things are better than they were, and I feel hope that they will continue getting better. I'm so glad now that I didn't give in.

Moving Forward

I have to share a thought I've had the last few days. But first a little background. I've been sad recently. Not the depressed kind of sad, but the sad that comes from the pain of realizing what my life is now compared to what it used to be. All the broken pieces, all the missed years of learning and growth and progression, and all the missed opportunities with my family and friends and in my community have really gotten me down. Kyle has tried to point out that I've grown, I've been able to reach tens of thousands of people all around the world through writing openly about my depression, and I've started an unofficial non-profit for the psych unit of the hospital because of these struggles, but I've repeated that I would trade all of that for what I once had going for me. 

But I realized something a few days ago that has lifted me up. I realized that a portion of the good that happens in the world has come from bleak circumstances. I can think of so many examples. An organization created to teach self-defense was started by someone who had been kidnapped and sexually abused. A family who lost their daughter to drowning wrote about their grief and delivered hospital stay goodie bags in honor of their daughter to help others in their same position. Another family who lost their sweet little girl to diabetes consistently share the warning signs and use their voice to try to make sure another family won't go through the same horror. A family who lost their son after he was hit by a car at an intersection host a bike safety day for the community every year and give away free helmets. A woman who lost her husband to suicide shares her story and her pains as well as the pains of her children to help others know how important it is to stay. The list could go on and on. No one wanted these things to happen, but the bad opened their eyes to a need that they were prepared to fill through their understanding, and most importantly, they chose to fill it.

I wish so terribly that I wouldn't have been severely depressed for so many years and now carry the trauma of all the things that came with that, but the fact is, I was, so now I have to decide what I'm going to do with it. All of the people I mentioned before inspire me to continue to use my past darkness to do good, however that might look.

Do I still wish that I could go back and somehow stop everything bad from happening? YES! But am I learning to look to the future and do what I can to use these experiences for good? Also yes. It's hard not to wish for different circumstances, but we don't often get to choose those. So I'm doing what I can to be thankful for my ability to choose how to move forward from this now.

Face of Depression

 I was so depressed at the time these pictures were taken, so very depressed, but no one would know looking at them.  They would think I was living a wonderful dream, and in many ways I was with my sweet little family, but depression got in the way of that dream.  

I wish, probably more than anything else, that people could understand the face of depression.  Sometimes it looks happy.  Or put together.  Or even peaceful.  But sometimes hidden behind a smile is pain and heartache.  So... don't forget to be kind.  Remember that everyone has some weight they are carrying, whether or not that is depression.  Check on your seemingly happy friends.  Don't be afraid to give a compliment or express love.  You never know how much it could mean to the person receiving it.  Don't assume that your smiling friends have a perfect life.  They might be snuggling their people close just hoping for better days to come eventually.

Also, a lot of people have asked how I have been doing recently, and the answer is good (for 8 days, which is a long time for me).  Who knows if that will last or if there are more bumps in the road ahead, but right now is good and so I'm truly happy and peaceful.  I hope more than anything that it will stick around.

Puzzle Pieces

 When I got home from the second time of being in the hospital, my whole life felt like it was laying before me in a million shattered pieces. I still wasn't feeling well at all, and I hardly knew where to start in trying to put my life back together. So Kyle and I made a list. We called it our "puzzle pieces," each piece outlining some part of my life that I hoped I could get back at some point. We knew that it would take time, effort, patience, and lots of little baby steps before I could feel that my old life was restored, but it felt good to get all of these pieces written down. After getting home from my third hospital stay, I was feeling so much better than before and was really ready to start getting to work on the puzzle of my life. Some parts were easy to add back in at that point like eating, being at home by myself, and taking care of my kids. Others were more difficult like doing my hobbies again (crocheting, photography, piano), grocery shopping, making dinner, or making commitments. And one (doing our family's budget) I just started yesterday, nearly two months after getting home.

Through it all, I've learned that healing and progress are not linear. Sometimes I still have some rough days and Kyle has to make dinner or help more with the kids, but overall, my puzzle is coming together quite nicely. I'm going to be so proud of this one when it is finished.

Incredible People

 Somehow in this big, long, often difficult journey with my mental health over the last several years, I've crossed paths with some of the most incredible people, people who have been willing to give of their time, effort, knowledge, and love to try to help me. It instantly brings me to tears when I think of these special people in my life. And sometimes I've wondered why? Why do they do it? Why do they care so much about me? I'm just one ordinary person, but somehow that doesn't seem to matter to them. Somehow they feel that I'm needed, that my life is irreplaceable, that I am worth getting better. I'm so thankful beyond words for these good people. I am here and slowly healing because some really smart, caring people and my sweet family have not given up on me.