Stop The Stigma: Me too {Personal}

What direction do you go when your steps become so heavy you can’t move? You can’t find the words to describe why or find the strength to keep moving?

That’s where I was. That’s where I still am. Just 5 days ago something pulled in me to make that appointment I’ve been saying I was going to make for months. The one that I needed childcare for. The one that even thinking about it made me turn into a puddle of tears. But I called, they said 3:40 on Wednesday. I knew I had plans that evening, didn’t have a sitter that day but I made the appointment anyway. I felt a peace knowing this wasn’t just a pull but God preparing me for what I’d been praying for.

Wednesday comes and my husband just so happens to be home for me to go alone to my appointment and doesn’t need to make it to his work until I get back. Again, that’s all God.

I pull up to the office, sweaty palms and almost in tears thinking about trying to explain this black cloud that follows me around without sounding totally nuts.

I check in, room isn’t ready so I wait. The waiting only increases my anxiety, “maybe I should just reschedule.” I finally make it to the room and they hand me a checklist. As I fill out the paperwork I’m on the verge of tears as I see myself checking the highest marks for almost all of them. I feel crazy. I text my closest friends and let them know where I am and they assure me they’ve done the same checklist, I’m not crazy and that they were proud of me for asking for help. Again, I felt Gods hand because he had placed the right people in my life to encourage me and not leave me feeling totally alone. The doctor walks in and before I can even mutter a word the tears just pour out. Every word I speak, more come. To the point that she has to ask for another box of tissues but all while holding my hand and reassuring me that I’m in the right place. I tell her that I have always been a social butterfly, super bubbly and a light for others. But over the last year or so my light was dark. I found more excuses not to go than reasons that I should. I snapped at my kids for things I used to let roll off my back. Getting out of bed was damn near impossible.

She told me with the lack of a support system and being a stay at home mom with a two and twelve year old she clan only imagine how overwhelmed I get. And I told her that’s exactly why it took me so long to come in. I kept telling myself “anyone that was dealt the hand I was dealt would be moody, tired and snippy.” But the darker my world got I started to see this isn’t just from that. We talked, I cried a ton, but we got answers and I’m getting help.

I am suffering with depression and anxiety. Why did I share this personal moment with the you? Because, I hope someone reads this and says, “me too.” I hope they read it and see there’s light at the end of the tunnel. I want someone to feel like through the cloud they see a beacon of hope. Hope. That’s why I shared. There’s no shame in it. I feel like I have direction now. I can enjoy my life. I still have to fight this battle everyday but I am speaking to a counselor, taking a new medication and have hope and faith that God will see me through it.

I see you trying to heal from what you won't discuss and that's okay.  I'm sending you a virtual hug.  You're stronger than you feel right now, and you're just one moment away from a really good day.