All of me.

For those of you who know me:  What you see is what you get.  I don't do fake, or phony, or try to make myself look better than I really am.  I don't change myself for anybody.

That's not to say I refuse to consider other people's feelings.  I still have manners.  I'm still respectful to those around me.  Often times when people say, "I am who I am.", it's to justify their bad behavior.  That's not what I'm trying to say here.  What I'm trying to say is, I am incapable of being anything other than who I really am.  I'm animated, and kooky, and I talk fast. I laugh loudly, and often. I joke and I tease and I'm honest.  Too honest.  I have no problem admitting when I've made a mistake, or I'm in the wrong.  I'm truly an open book.  I don't hide anything.  I think it scares people sometimes.  Some people might even say I'm obnoxious.  I don't want to be obnoxious to anyone.  It makes me sad to think that people don't like me.  All of me. 

But, being the open book that I am... I feel the need to reveal a part of me that a lot of people might not know.  I have been diagnosed with severe depression and anxiety.  It's something that I've been battling off and on for the last 20 years, to varying degrees.  I've been taking medication for one or both issues off and on since my oldest was a toddler.  It started with depression.  Post partum?  I was dealing with a recent diagnoses and very painful struggle with Rheumatoid Arthritis. When you're 20 years old, and you feel like you're 80... you tend to feel hopeless.  But, thanks to modern medicine... my RA pain was eventually managed and I was able to physically function normally.  But, the emotional effects of having a baby, and experiencing the kind RA of pain I had, and being so far away from my family and support system.. all lead to what I would suspect was the beginning of my depression. 

Once again, thanks to modern medicine, I finally started taking something for the depression.  It worked, for the most part.  I was feeling stable emotionally as well as physically for a good part of my early and mid 20's.  But then...I had another baby.  And he was a very, very difficult baby.  He cried ALL of the time.  It was so stressful.  I had gone off my depression medication while I was pregnant with my son, and did just fine throughout my pregnancy.  But... only a few months after he was born, I was back to feeling extremely depressed.  And, that's when the anxiety kicked in.  I didn't know what it was at first.  I felt like I was having a heart attack.  My heart literally felt like it was being squeezed.  There were times I couldn't catch my breath.  Emotionally, I was falling apart.  I was very scared.  And there were times I wished I was dead. 

Eventually, I got help for both my depression and anxiety, but even with medication...the symptoms didn't completely go away.  When I turned 30, I went through a divorce.  This event furthered my symptoms and I started seeing a counselor, which helped me immensely.  I don't know if I would have been able to get through the divorce without the counseling.  Eventually, I healed and got back on the emotionally stable train.  I met my (current and wonderful) husband and life continued.  By this time, I was in my early 30's.  I had been off and on medication for depression and anxiety for over 10 years.  I had been to a couple of counselors.  They all seemed to help, mostly. 

Then, about 3 years ago, I went through a  period of depression and anxiety that would take me down a very long and dark road.  It was a different road than I had traveled before.  It wasn't the "run-of-the-mill" depression and anxiety that I had experienced previously.  This time I had thoughts.  Bad thoughts.  I even heard voices in my head.  They were CONSTANT.  The thoughts/voices were so unkind to me.  I would wake up in the morning and they would be there, waiting for me.  They would follow me everywhere I went.  Telling me what a horrible mother I was.  Reminding me I was worthless, and useless, and STUPID, and fat, and ugly.  This is how I lived for over 2 years.  I even thought about taking my own life.  There were a couple of times I almost tried something.  I had pills...  Or, I thought about driving to the beach.... swimming out as far as I could swim...and then just letting myself go.  But, I didn't want my husband or kids to find me.  My family didn't fully understand where I was mentally, at the time.  But the thought of them being disappointed in me is what  forced me to finally go back to the doctor.  He started having me take some very heavy-duty medication, I saw a counselor (again) and I started seeing a psychiatrist.  Somehow, through the grace of God, and the love and never-ending patience of my amazing husband and kids...I pulled out of that horrible, dark, awful hell.   

It's been almost a year since I went through my last "episode".  Those voices and thoughts still follow me.  Some days are better than others.  Some days, I don't hear those voices at all.  Some days, I have to shout, literally out loud, to make the thoughts go away.  I have to constantly self talk and remind myself that none of those bad things are true  I'm not perfect.  But I'm good.  And people love me, and care about me.  I'm not fat.  I'm not ugly.  I'm not stupid.  I'm a good mom.  I'm a good wife.  I'm a good person.  I have a good life. 

Maybe one day I will be able to be free from the emotional prison I deal with every day.  I envy those people who don't have 29 different emotions on any given day.  But... who's to say they don't have their own burdens, right? 

And, there you have it.  All of me.  

I told you I was an open book......

Choices

My 13 year old son often starts a statement with, "Not to sound rude but...", to which I usually reply with, "If you have to provide a disclaimer for everyone not to take offense before you say something... perhaps you shouldn't say it."  He usually says it anyway.

However...there are always exceptions to the rule.  And with that:

I hope nobody takes offense at what I'm going to say here.   I don't think anybody will, but you never know.

Today as I drove home from work, I saw a very heavy set gentleman walking down the street.  He was wearing work out clothing and had his headphones on, and his walk was brisk.  Obviously he was walking for his health. 

I'm not exactly sure what it is but, every time I see a heavy set person walking or even running.... I have the strongest urge to pull over, get out of my car, and start cheering for them. "Good job!!  You are awesome!  Keep going!"  I just want to tell them how happy it makes me to see them choosing a better and healthier lifestyle for themselves.   Just thinking about it makes me a little bit emotional. 



Of course I don't actually pull over, or even honk, or yell, for that matter.  Mostly because I'm worried they might think I'm taunting or harassing them.  Which is the exact opposite of what my intentions would be.   But also because; How terribly insane would I look if I pulled over next to a perfect stranger and started cheering for them.  Yeah, right.  Psycho lady escaped from the mental hospital. 

But back to the gentleman.  I don't know his story.  Maybe today was the first, and last day he will ever walk for his health.  Maybe he's been walking every day for the last 6 months and has already lost 100 lbs and he's trying to continue the weight loss.  Maybe he's only a week into his walking regiment and is feeling overwhelmed or discouraged.  Does he  have family and friends that are uplifting and encouraging?  Or is he constantly faced with temptation from the very people who should be supporting him?  The possibilities surrounding his story are endless.  But one thing is certain:  His choice to do something good for himself was probably very difficult.  I can only imagine the uphill battle it must be. The heavier a person becomes, the more difficult it is to make good choices.  It becomes a cycle.  I've been on that cycle to a small degree.  I've never been obese, but I have been up and down in my weight over the years and I know how difficult it is to constantly make good decisions on the kinds of food I eat.  Making and sticking to an exercise program, and keeping a positive attitude.  Those are difficult for everybody.  It has got to be so much more difficult when your weight gets to that point.

Seeing the man who was walking with a purpose, was the best part of my day today.  If he can do it, so can I.    One choice at a time.