The faint light of day started breaking through the windows and I sleepily lifted the lids of my eyes. They adjusted, slowly, and I could make out the tree branches from our backyard against the dark blue early morning sky. I breathed in heavy and I knew right away – something was different.
There was a tightness in my chest and the air felt thick in those first breaths of daybreak. I clenched tight to the pillow and turned my face into the sheets, letting my thoughts roll quickly downhill, tumbling into the endless sea of to-do’s, and pushed further downward by my lack of desire to do any of the things listed.
Yesterday, I wanted to disappear. I couldn’t. Rowan is going to wake up soon, I thought to myself.
I cried.
Somehow, I managed to get myself out of bed. Better judgment won the battle of breakfast and I convinced myself I should eat something. The last thing I wanted to do was eat. The last thing you need to do is eat, I thought.
I had a play date scheduled for Rowan that morning. I looked around the living room as I sunk further into the armchair and I knew there was no way that was going happen. There was too much to do before the first showing of the day.
I don’t know why I bother. Nobody is ever going to buy this house. So much work for nothing.
I cried more.
My tears were wiped dry on the sleeve of my sweatshirt and I gathered my coffee mug and bowl of pale blue milk left over from my cereal. I haphazardly threw them in the sink. The crash startled the dogs and they cowered.
I sobbed.
Rowan woke shortly after. I think it was shortly after. I could have been standing at the kitchen sink for hours, I had no idea.
I wiped more tears and my sweatshirt sleeve was starting to soak through.
I went to his room, opened the door and was greeted by his usual good morning smile, and a “Hi!” I love it that he says hi. He reaches for me and my heart melts soft as I lift him out of the crib and allow his head to rest on my shoulder. I bury my nose into the fine wisps of blonde hair and breathe in the Johnson & Johnson baby smell. He pops his head up and gives me a kiss.
I get him fed and occupied. I make the beds, tidy up the rooms, wipe down bathrooms and start in on the vacuuming. I’m tired now. It’s been a couple of hours of cleaning at this point and my body feels like lead and dammit, why can’t I get this table to look clean? I wipe again. Again. Again.
It’s not clean enough. This house isn’t clean enough.
I frantically scoured the room with eyes wide and I’m afraid to blink because I know it’ll release the dam of water, waiting to be spilled over. I look at Rowan playing quietly with his blocks behind the couch. I haven’t played with him all day.
You’re so worthless.
There it was. The unwelcome visitor. Depression. It’s been over a year since its last appearance in my life, but there was no mistaking it. I know it too well.
I called Erik right away, knowing he was going to be home early to help me get Rowan and the dogs out of the house.
“When are you going to be home?” I asked. “Probably not until after the showing, I just got busy here,” he replied.
“Are you serious?” I said, voice cracking. “What’s the matter?” he asked.
“I can’t do this. I can’t clean this goddamn house by myself, there’s so much to do, nothing is getting done, I’ve got Rowan here and I haven’t even had time to shower and I’m supposed to be out of the house in an hour. I can’t do this. I don’t know what’s wrong with me!” I cried heavily into the phone.
He knew. “Okay, I’ll be right home.” He hung up.
He came home quickly, we finished up the house, piled everyone into the grey SUV and we made our way up the street.
“Are you okay?” He asked.
“No.” I said.
“What’s wrong?” He pleaded.
“I don’t know.” I wept. Sobbed.
He pulled the car over and held my hands and asked, “Are you just sad?” I knew what that meant. What he was really asking was Is this what I think it is?
I nodded and cried heavily.
We talked it through and he spoke his words of affirmation and soul-rest into my ears and heart and I started to feel the burden lift. Just a little. That’s all I needed. I needed something to break the clouds, even just the smallest window into blue sky. That’s all I needed. I just needed a little glimmer of hope.
He always reminds me of hope.
We drive south to the self-serve yogurt place and I load up on cake batter ice cream and pour on the sprinkles.
Because nothing gets rid of an unwelcome visitor quite like a cup full of sprinkles.
I’m still not sure why depression decided to visit yesterday. I have my theories, but needless to say it was shocking and unexpected. It’s been well over a year since my last notable battle. I thought I had won the war.
Though I’m just fine today, it’s reappearance has me shaken. I wonder – will I ever be free of it? Will it always be there, hiding in the shadows? Maybe it was just a fluke. Or maybe the fat lady hasn’t quite sung yet. I’m not sure.
What I do know is that just like the rest of life, I’ll have to handle this new development the only way I know how – one foot in front of the other, one day at a time, with my community and support around me.
That’s all I know how to do.
Ohh, girl.
My heart hurts for you. And though it’s hard and painful, I think this is maybe one of the best things you’ve written. It’s so real, cuts so deep. I know those voices all too well, and hearing you talk about them makes me feel less alone. I’m sure others feel the same–which I hope helps you know that you aren’t alone either. And certainly none of the things those voices say you are.
Praying for peace for you, deep down in your heart.
In some ways I can relate to this. I’ve been suffering forms of depression the last several months. That feeling of just wanting to give up. I can only describe it as my heart wanting to crawl into bed and do nothing but stare at the wall. I’m figuring my is all hormonal. Life changes happening that I never knew to expect. I’ll remember you in prayer as I walk this road too.
[loves & hugs]
I feel you in a way that I don’t even think I’m ready to discover.
But thank you.
there is such power in naming, in writing the words.
grace and peace
the enemy is trying to shake things up for you. I’m praying!
“I don’t know.” I wept. Sobbed.
I know those moments all too well. Sometimes they come once a week, sometimes once a month. But they’re always unexpected, sudden, and overwhelming.
Yesterday it left me saying, this whole motherhood thing is too demanding…it asks too much of me.
But, yes, just one day at a time.
1. You have come so far.
2. We don’t even know our own resilience.
3. Keep on keepin on.
4. You pulled at my heart strings.
5. Hugs and stumptown for you!!
Life can be so hard sometimes, can’t it? Your transparency is so beautiful.
oh, my sweet friend. How I wish we didn’t know each other’s pain. How I wish you never suffered that way. How I pray you never will again.
I love you always.
I know how this feels. thank you so much for being so transparent, it’s beautiful.
Im sorry that depression paid you a visit. I lived in that place for a very long time, and I didnt have a husband like yours. I am so glad to hear your day had a happy ending. My two most recent blog posts have been about recovery from depression/dealing with my life right now and about a random day in summer 2010 during my ragey depression days. I think they will both resonate with you if you want to read.
I know this. I am this. But it’s not me… you know?
Love you. Thankful for your yogurt and those Erik-words to you. Gotta love those guys who are both anchors and hope givers…
thanks for sharing. keep pressin’ on (depression is a constant battle for me!)
praying for strength for you!
xo
Praying for you.
God is good,
All the time.
All the time,
God is good.
I battled with post pardum after having my first child- I cried Jesus’ name everytime a thought entered my head and it worked- that and the prayers of my mother.
Praying for you.
Thank you, thank you, thank you for sharing your heart. This touched mine in such powerful ways.
I have days like this sometimes and I have no idea where it comes from… Days when I don’t understand how anyone could love a mess like me, where I don’t feel like anything is good enough or when I don’t understand how my husband can move past everything I did to our marriage and still want to be with me.
On these days I always try to take a glimmer of hope that I see in my husband and remind myself of how far I’ve come through it all. There is comfort in knowing that we’re not crazy or alone in all of this, even though it may seem like it. Cling onto His promise that we are his children and that He is still holding us and guiding us to something bigger and greater.
Oh, sweet girl…I’m so, sorry. Motherhood is good but hard on so many levels.
I’m praying for you now…hoping light is shed on all those dark shadows and this thing is licked for good.
It certainly seems you have yourself a good, good man there!
{And on selling a house? That is hard. And stressful. And beyond exhausting with a toddler. Your house is so charming…the right family WILL fall in love with it!}
Love you, friend.
This post struck me deep. I am amazed at your ability to write it out, not only in detail, but knowing others are reading it. I admire your bravery.
“I thought I had it beat” These have been my sentiments for the last few weeks…I am past the time that would make it PPD so what does it make this…???
This unwelcomed guest set up residence in my life in November (the most recent visit; there have been plenty). He hasn’t gotten the message that it’s time to vacate and move along.
Thank you for putting words to these heart -feelings that hurt so deep.
These are words I’ve been hearing:
One foot in front of the other
One day at a time
It won’t last forever
Tomorrow will be better
You’re stronger than this
How can you let depression get to you
You have 5 wonderful kids, be happy
Take a pill
Take a nap
Take a vacation
Just get over it
I know the intentionsbehind these words are kind, but they are not the words I need right now.
Thank you
I too went through this….. Not long after you were born….
And momentarily several times after….. It’s overwhelming, frustrating, and just damn wrong…
But we pick up, talk to our love, and work through it…
So many moves later and 30 years….I am great!!!
You too can do this!!!
It WILL be back…. You have seen it in me….you may not realize it….it’s been there, we function, push forward and MAKE it work. Those tears will come back….but You are strong, you have family, the good lord and your strength ….
I feel like I am going through this, with so much going on, I just can’t pull myself up and out of bed , knowing Iv’e got the same things hanging over my head day after day.. Your mother speaks the truth, and its so overwhelming all you can do is cry… I feel your pain Nish, just wished I could write about it as well as you have.. you are so strong just keep your head up.. and move through it. Thats what I keep telling me..
i love your honesty. i wish i could be that honest about who i am. i am a coward. you are brave.
thank you for sharing your absolutely beautiful and real heart.
you are precious.
Bravely written and a reminder of our home life some time ago. My wife fell to depression over 10 years ago. It was a long battle and the unwelcome visitor still hovers at times. We talk of it and I can mostly recognise its subtle appearance. I remind her that she battled through terrible times and her life now is nowhere near what is was. I also remind her of one important thing; her awareness of depression. SHE recognises when it slips in and tries to settle on her shoulders, just like you did on this morning you write of. This awareness restores some control for her and helps to keep the door closed. You are tougher than you think.
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I have tears running down my face reading this. I have absolutely felt this way at times. I work outside the home all week and sometimes on the weekend, after my daughter is down for her nap, I lay down on bed, shut my eyes and just want to disappear. I get so sick of the neverending to-do list—its simply too much at times. But I just keep thinking about my daughter and how wonderful she is, and it gets me up & going.
Hugs to you!
Beautifully written piece. I have been there, and I could completely feel your pain. Sharing is a great outlet. Be sure to get good support, both professional and personal. Also, find healthy outlets like exercise. Bike riding and jogging have been lifesavers for me. Thank you for sharing this.
I just recently subscribed to your blog and I think He may have lead me to it. You described exactly what I go through and feel on a regular basis. Sometimes I feel like it is all I can do to keep fighting. I just get so tired of all the daily crap and everything having to be so hard all of the time. Bills, my husbands job, my super fussy ten month old who is still having sleep issues, my first grader who back talks me already, the dirty house, laundry, you name it. It seems to all pile up on me every day.
I do my best. I remind myself how many blessings I have and what is important. That my kids are good most of the time and I get compliments on my daughters behavior at school. That all of this stuff is just that, stuff. We will make it through everything as a family. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.
Thanks for sharing your struggle. It helps me remember that I’m not on this road alone.
Thank you for being so transparent. Been there-done that for an entire year and thought I was going crazy. I still have occasional times, but thank God they’re not often anymore. Mine was post partum depression after delivering my last baby and being told that neither he nor I might survive the delivery. I’m glad you’re better today. Bless your heart for sharing with us.
Crying. Have felt the same way on many occasions. Husband has had to come home and doesn’t always understand what my deal is! What is the deal?? Why is being a mom so down-right overwhelming sometimes? Wow. Thanks for sharing from the heart. Praying for you and all tired moms.
Beautiful words for such heartache. Depression is such a tough monster to deal with. Praying you find the healing and hope you need for each day.
Praying for you.
I fight depression as well. Funny how it can hit suddenly and hard like that.
Thank you for sharing so openly. I’ve never opened up about it on my blog, which is mainly about homeschool stuff, but I’m thinking it’s time. I think there are tons of women out there who need to know they’re not alone.
Blessings!
I’ve been looking through your posts and find your honesty so refreshing. Thank you for sharing your heart.
Blessings.
i found your blog through blog sugar. my heart goes out to you and i appreciate your honesty so much. thank you for sharing so openly. and what an incredible source of strength and hope you have. praying for you.
This post is amazing. You are so brave and honest, it really calms me to know others still have random episodes of depression. I am also experiencing this and it terrifies me. I’m a newlywed, I’m supposed to be the happiest I’ve ever been. Yet sometimes, my unexpected friend comes to visit also. I think he will always be lingering in my shadows.
Praying for you. For strength. For hope. For us all.
First of all, I love that your husband was able to recognize it and immediately available to you. Also, that he didn’t try to fix you, but just spoke to you in it. That is a powerful man!
Isn’t crazy how it can just sneak up on us? I hate depression.
The same unwelcome visitor frequently shows up here and stays for hours.days.weeks.months.
I know all too well how you feel.
-S
It happens to me sometimes…and truthfully, when I have the listening ear of my husband, and his support, it seems to heal.
And just learning to trust Jesus, and lay it all at his feet.
I’ve been there – feeling exactly as you described – it’s so tough – and frustrating to know what it is and not be able to get a handle on it – thank you for sharing – know you are not alone!
And cake batter frozen yogurt with sprinkles would be my fix too!
I am praying for you. And crying for you. I completely understand and you are loved.
Love this and love you. I also love that your mom commented with such graciousness and hope. I hope you know how deeply you are loved. Praying for you always, dear, brave friend.
I can SO relate! Our house has been on the market since June. My husband has been working nights since August. I work days & take care of the kids & house by myself in the evenings. Hardest time of my life. Saying a prayer for you.
Your words are light to so many of us women who feel like we are alone, and isolated in this.
So many of us are all too familiar with those horrible voices, and that awful intruder.
I’m sure you are bringing freedom to so many (like me!) who think they are alone.
xx
I’ve just found your blog.
Some how I stumbled across it.
And I’m there.
This is me today.
Your post is the exact documentation of my very day.
I’m struggling through this thing.
It goes and comes.
It’s like a cancer and it just keeps showing it’s ugly head.
When is it going to go?
Is it ever? Is this it?
xx Stacey (Your newest follower and one that is hearing your heart beautiful girl)
Nish, my heart breaks with yours and my mind races with yours. That fear & anxiety rising up, while we full well know what happened the last time it reared it’s ugly head. Fearing the pain, the unknown, the longevity, etc, etc. Dear sister–meditate on those things which are lovely & pure & righteous & noble. Take that vivid imagination & deep feeling heart and meditate on those lovely things. Perfect love casts out fear. I find myself needing to back away from all the angst in the world, in order to calm myself before Jesus. I find myself needing to read books like the Chronicles of Narnia to see Aslan tenderly loving & viciously protecting. Jesus is like that Mama bear & Daddy bear all in one. You are a daughter of the most high and he delights in you. I pray that you would rest in this.
kamille
Visiting (late) from Postpartum Progress. I know this feeling. For me it was PPD, but that experience has made me realize that I’ve dealt with this for a long time. It’s a horrible feeling, and I can just imagine what it must have felt like to have it suddenly pop up like that. Mine comes and goes now, but it’s not gone yet. I’m not sure what (if anything) will finally kick it to the curb.
This was beautifully written and I’m so glad your husband was able to help you like that.
You are blessed to have such wonderful support. I am curious to learn more about how wonderful support systems like this are created.
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