It is what it is? Is it?
Here I am again and it hasn’t even been a week. I’ll bet you have your fill of Jenn this lovely late Autumn. In all honesty, I’m more likely to write when the going gets tough. When I lay it out into words I can see, sometimes I can see the answer in my own words or someone else sees my words and sees a way to help. It is encouraging to know that there are people who want to help and want me to feel better.
For those of you who aren’t familiar with depression and a major depressive disorder, it is managed through many different approaches. I use medication in addition to coping skills and physical fitness. While these mostly keep my brain chemistry from going too far out of whack, sometimes I have episodes of depression for whatever reason. Sometimes, there is something that brings it on. Sometimes, it just comes to visit to remind me that it never fully leaves. Brain chemistry can be a real jerk sometimes.
I wasn’t going to write a blog post this week because I was afraid it would be laced with profanity. I’ve been dealing with some of the stress by leaning on old friends and exchanging messages. You’d be amazed at how helpful it is opening up to people even when you feel like crawling inside yourself and locking up tight. Also, how some people have actually experienced something similar or can point you to someone who has. It has been comforting to hear a few whispers of “me, too” and “it’ll be ok.”
This week has seen my teen not feeling emotionally stable and having issues that are difficult to extract the whole story from. We have added more layers of security to our home to protect her from hurting herself. More locks, more keys, more following her around, and more resentment from her about these things. Today, we see one of her doctors to discuss some of this. It seems like discussing the issues with this doctor always results in him telling me something that he feels I need to change in my parenting that comes from him knowing exactly one side of a much deeper and more multi layered story than he seems to be aware of. I feel inadequate enough without this little nudge from him and his nurse who felt it necessary to tell me that they deal with teens all of the time and are responsible. Does that mean that I’m not? No idea, but I can’t help but feel that I’m constantly under scrutiny by people because of the things going on with the teen. A part of the problem comes from threats of doing harm to herself when things are adverse to her desired outcome. While we ensure safety in our home from that happening, we also can’t be expected to scoop her up and take her to the hospital each time the threats are made. We also really can’t have things like that heard by the smaller children who are concerned for their older sister. So how does this resolve? I mean it. I don’t know. I need a solution and nobody seems to have one.
At what point is it acceptable to say that I’m unable to constantly cater to these professionals that all want a piece of her on a regular basis and the teachers who need her to be at and stay after school to make up work? I have three children that all require constant supervision. I am fortunate enough to stay at home for now, but my husband works and he needs to be at work in order to do his job. I can’t be in more than one place at a time and neither can he.
Also, at what point can I say that my depression is severe and I need people to understand that I’m sick? I’m still trying to make it to all of my workouts in the week like they’re appointments. This might be what keeps me from sulking because I get out and get energized in addition to talking to other people about things other than my life at home. I still cry often. I still hold back tears often. My husband has held me through crying fits more often in the past couple of weeks than he probably has in the past 10 years that we’ve been together. People tell me that God won’t give me more than I can handle, but I’m starting to feel weak and worn down. I’m starting to not want to fight it anymore and just lay down and admit defeat. I’m starting to think this is just what life is going to be like and that stinks.
I’m sorry I didn’t have anything particularly fun or happy to say. I thank you for reading this. I hope to have some type of happy story to share next time. I’m still running. I hope to make it to my 15k this weekend in St. Louis. I hope to get into another training program after my current one is over so that I can keep lacing up, working out, and running off the crazy. I hope that if you needed to see that you’re not alone, that I’ve helped you with that. Take care of yourself.