Drowning

The thing with depression & anxiety is it's like drowning, most people don't realize what's happening until it's too late. 
From the shore a person rarely looks like they're drowning. There's almost never any screaming or arms thrashing about. They look like they're swimming. They go under but then fight their way to the top and come up for air occasionally. Then they sink back down under the water until there's no more strength to fight their way back up and too often no one notices until it's too late to swim out and save them or throw them a life preserver. And that's the real tragedy of it. Not only that someone quietly leaves this world but that no one notices. Everyone assumes they're fine because they don't or can't call out for help and then until it's too late. Depression and anxiety are much the same. They are all consuming. The person fighting is often spending so much time and energy just trying to survive that they can't or don't know how to ask for help and so they fight until they can't anymore and then they disappear under the water and people stand around surprised, wondering how? What? Why?

*ang

Let trials pass through us...

Greatest Match of All

In days of old Jesus Christ taught the people by parables. For myself, I find that he often teaches me through moments. 

Tonight my son has a wrestling match. It was the tournament. It was the end of the season and the most important match of all. 

This must be what it is like for heavenly father to watch his children go through life. He's on the sidelines cheering us on. Sometimes we come off the mat of life a little beat up. Sometimes we come off the mat completely crushed or terrified. Yet other times when we come off the mat, we are completely victorious! That emotion that rolls through your body while watching your child struggle. That pep talk you give them to do hard things because you know it is right. That overwhelming pride when they succeed.

I can't really understand what it must be like for our Heavenly parents watch us go through this life. The heartbreak they must feel when we are battered or bruised. The feelings of overwhelming joy and elation when we succeed and come out on top. I know it is really only my way of thinking about things but tonight I got a glimpse.

How grateful I am for loving parents cheering me on. They are praying for me and doing all they can while letting the journey be ultimately mine. I am grateful for their words of encouragement they send through lessons, scriptures, friends or a feeling of peace.

It works for me!

One of the things I have really struggled with for the past year is laundry. During the summer I seriously considered making my family live in their swimming suits just so I could keep caught up more than one day. It is amazing how many clothes 5 people go through in a week.

Then, like any busy mom knows, things happen during the day/week to keep you from getting your laundry done. For me these things are work, wrestling practices and matches, dance, meetings, family night, oh and homework and planning have to fit in there as well. Phew! Makes me tired just thinking about it. :)

I was starting to go nuts at the mountains of clothing taking over my home. These kind of messes can really mess with you head when you aren't feeling good in the first place. I knew something had to change. I started to search on Pinterest for inspiration and BAM! it hit me. It wasn't a specific post but  all of the pictures started to create an idea.

TRUTH: I waste a lot of time when I am doing my laundry. First I gather all the dirty clothes, sort all the clothes and finally clean all the clothes! What if I could take some of that work out of laundry and make it a quicker process? That is exactly what I ended up doing.

I broke the laundry up in the six main groups: whites, darks, pinks, reds, light colors and towels. I desperately wanted to buy beautiful, yet functional new baskets to make this a beautiful thing, however I knew I would be smart and try it out with the mismatched baskets I already had. I placed them at the top of my stairs and started sorting. As my kids got ready for bed that night and changed into pajamas I gave a quick little sorting lesson. The best part - my kids thought it was fun.

Why I love this idea:
* the job of sorting is already done taking the time it takes to do laundry and cuts it down
* I love that my kids can help me
* I love that I can grab a basket and simply dump it into the washer
* I love that it is simple and easy to follow through with
* when one of my kids will yell down to ask which basket a piece of clothing should go in

What I don't love about this idea: 
* My baskets are ugly
* the landing on my stairs isin't very big and this takes up space
* everyone looking up my stairs can see the laundry - might need to find a new place for the baskets to live
* sometimes laundry smells bad - and all together it can be worse. Guess I need a few air fresheners to place behind my basket

Not a single con from my list makes me want to find something new - it just need a little tweaking. Guess it was a success!! It works for me!

It was a miracle...

I have been feeling pretty well overall for the last little while. Great even. More days than not I have been feeling like myself. Then the day went from okay to down right hopeless in a matter of minutes.

The week had been long - my sweet husband was working extra hours at work for their convention. I often say that I am a great married mom, I am not a great single mom. Spending a chunk of the week knowing my husband wasn't going to be around was draining on me physically and mentally. My two oldest had been fighting and picking on each other all day. My five year old was complaining about everything - I mean everything. I was done. I was spent. I yelled at my five year old daughter. Even though we later apologized I couldn't get my attitude back up. I kept crying. I felt lost. I wanted to run away. Sure I have had those feelings before. I want to run to visit my friend or sit out in a quiet spot and pretend I don't have any responsibilities. This time was different. This time those feelings weren't going away.

My go to person is Angela. She knows what PPD and motherhood feels like. She never judges - she is the perfect friend. There was only one problem - she lives in Ohio while I live in Utah so picking me up off the floor physically isn't an option. I did the one thing I knew I could do. I called her. I called her a sobbing mess. I felt like I needed to go somewhere - maybe the hospital - somewhere. She talked to me and talked with me but I couldn't seem to catch my breath. Upon her advice I hung up with her and got into a hot shower to try and relax.

I was crying so hard I couldn't barely utter the words, "Father, I am here. Are you there? I need you." I wanted, I needed Him. I needed Him to make the pain go away. Finally I crawled out of the shower. I grabbed my now fussing baby and climbed into bed for a cuddle. I knew I needed someone physically to be there. I texted a few of my friends. My friend Susan responded that she wasn't feeling well but "what's up". I was not about to impose. "Oh nothing," I lied. Within seconds she responded that she was coming over. She found me curled up in my bed and I lost it yet again. She held me, she didn't judge me. She then took the baby and rounded up some teenagers who did dishes, laundry and generally picked up the main floor.

Angela texted back to check in. I told her about Susan reading between the lines in my text and just coming over. "Guess Heavenly Father really was listening." I texted Angela. "To both of us." was her reply. I felt a wash of emotion and love. My best friend had been praying for me. I know she has done it before but right then it was crucial. The best part was knowing that God had heard me and sent exactly who I needed.

Some might say this is simply coincidence. I don't believe that. I believe it was a miracle. I believe in a God that is good. I believe that I am His little girl and my struggles matter to Him. I believe in miracles.

Why do we doubt our strength?

A few weeks ago I had a sweet friend text me...
"Heather, you are incredible! I admire how open you are. It is inspiring. Than you for being your wonderful self!! Love ya friend!!"

I don't share this to brag or say, "Hey look at how amazing I am." I am constantly thinking of things I want to share here and worry about what other people will think. Why would anyone care about my story...then I receive messages and find new courage.

Why do we doubt what we have to share with the world? It makes me crazy when my friends can't see their stellarness (yes I just made that up) when I can. Well if I look, really look at myself, I am really no different.

Here's to being courageous and to seeing the strength in ourselves.

The Many Faces

PPD can rear it's ugly head in many different forms...

I can't tell you what it might look like and feel for you, but for me these are just a few ways it affects me.

First of all - the brain fuzz. I am a teacher and multi-tasker by nature. There was nothing more terrifying then the time when a lesson went completely wrong. In the past it wouldn't have been much of a big deal. I would have been able to assess the situation and adjust the strategy or way I was teaching it. Unfortunately, this day, that was not a possibility. I just sat there - I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to fix the situation and where to go from there. It was the start of me really knowing something was wrong.

It's the days that I would like nothing better to do than stay in bed. Making dinner is just too hard. There are too many choices to make. There is too much laundry, or too many kids, or just too much that needs you to make a choice. Yup on those days I wish I could lay and bed and eat popcorn...I prefer that to bon bons. :)

It is recognizing when my anxiety is high and I find myself with the unexplainable need to wear a big cozy cardigan or sweater. It's the need to feel safe and secure. My counselor was proud of me for recognizing this one. She said that being able to recognize I was at the beginning of a rough day might help me to choose to approach it differently. The only problem with this one is when you feel the need to wear a sweater or sweatshirt and it is over 100 degrees. Yup I need a different way to handle this one.

It is the feeling that I would really like someone to pat me on the back and tell me good job. It is the desire to have the simple praise I give my children for little things I accomplish - especially on the hard days. I have found a couple of people that I text when I get a list of things done. Sometimes I even call them when I have only accomplished a single task. Sometimes we just need reassurance.

Sometimes if feels like hopelessness. It feels like there are days that I may never get better. That I might be always struggling with this horrible, obnoxious, exhausting disease.

Today it is in the form of needing to sweep my floor and it just seems more than I can or care to do. Or maybe the sweeping isn't the problem but it is the knowledge that it desperately needs a mop after the sweep. The work just never seems done.

The point of this post, and yes there was one, was to remind you that PPD can feel like a hundred different things. It is okay. It is part of the process. If you are feeling this way talk to someone. It can get better. Just because you feel like this today doesn't mean you will feel like this a week from now.

How does PPD affect you? What do you do when you are feeling this way?

Remember you are not alone!