At Risk Moms

A few years ago I sank into an 18 month journey with depression. It wasn't my first go-round with it, but it was my first time dealing with it in sobriety. I couldn't drink it away and had no idea what to do. At the encouragement of the nonblogging friend, I saw my doctor and started on an anti-depressant. The good news is that I did eventually come out of my depression. The bad news is that the medication did not help me, and a year later I was twenty pounds heavier (a side effect of the last prescription I tried) and still felt miserable.

I was talking to my sponsor one day and she asked me if I would be open to talking to someone, like a therapist. I said I wasn't opposed to it, but that I didn't see the point. I wasn't upset about anything, and I looked at the depression like a medical condition and nothing more. I had no idea what I was talking about.

The truth was that my ADHD son was at the heart of my problem. My overwhelming feelings of failure and inadequacy had led me into a hole I could not climb out of. I felt completely helpless to do anything for him. I wish I had read an article like this back during that dark time:  ADHD Moms: Are we at risk? 

Once I knew what was causing my depression, I was able to find ways out of it. I took my heartbreak to God time and again, and asked Him to show me the way. I am thankful to no longer feel that way anymore, but it took a lot of emotional work. I had to choose to accept what I could not do, but focus on what I could do and not let negative self-talk eat away at me. My son is never going to be cured, and he may never be like other kids. And that's ok. I love him, God loves him, and he will be ok. God has granted me that measure of serenity.

Psalm 30

Oh what a difference a few weeks can make! Well, a few weeks, a few hundred prayers, a pound of flesh and some coffee, if we're being thorough about this.

First on the list of updates is me, because it's my blog and I can talk about me first if I want to.

I'm completely unmedicated right now. I prayed a ton about everything that had been swirling around me, and decided that after 18 months on the rollercoaster, I wanted off. I know that this goes against what would seem wise, but I promise that I made this decision after careful prayer, thought, and thorough conversations with my husband and a friend. I need a break from the crazy side effects, of feeling weird and medicated, so I can tell how I'm really feeling. The Man and I agreed that if I began to sink back into depression again, that I would go to the psychiatrist and go back on meds. (I have also shared this with the women in our Care Ring, for the sake of accountability with them as well.) The depression has been cyclical for me in the past, and I knew that it could be possible that it was gone at this point. With only one way to find out, I weaned off my current prescription. And praise God, I feel amazing. I don't mean that I just feel ok, I mean I truly feel healed. My mind feels clear, and I feel able to handle life on life's terms right now.

I've been back at the gym consistently (ok, not this past week, but I've been sick with a horrid sinus infection, blech) and the exercise has been lifting my spirits even higher. I gained 25 pounds on my last prescription, yes 25! How is that supposed to make a girl feel less depressed I ask you?! Add that to the 20 pounds of *cough* baby weight *ahem* that was still hanging on. So I have a long ways to go before I'm back at a healthy weight. But I'm feeling much better about it, in the sense of needing to lose it to be healthy, rather than fussing about being a plump housewife. (Which reminds me, another post coming shortly about how I must fit my fluffiness into a spaghetti strap bridesmaid dress this July, eek!)

I was watching Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew recently, and he said something that really struck me. (I feel I need to put in a disclaimer here, that no one should take anything on that show without a grain of salt, because it is 'reality tv' after all!) He said that boredom for the addict equals depression. I thought about that for several days afterwards, realizing that maybe this was a part of my problem. The Man and I talked about it, and the short version is that we realized that I have been at home for too long. Long days with no structure and no one to answer to have not been good for me in the long run, and I need to change that. I'm updating my resume to include 8 years of stain removal and PB&J assembly, and am keeping an eye out for part time office work. In the meantime, I'm buckling down with my writing, and will hopefully be churning out the next great American novel soon. Or at least some magazine articles.

Now, onto the Boy.... This past week we finally had the feedback meeting with The Team (guidance counselor, teacher, school psychologist, myself & The Man) and it went very well. We got a rough copy of the evaluation report and the short version of the two dozen pages is that he is now qualified as 'other health impaired'. (They cannot legally diagnose him, so this is what ADHD falls under.) The guidance counselor has 10 days to write up the IEP (Individual Education Program) and send it to us for our approval. We are praising God that the Boy is finally getting an IEP, because with it he is protected legally by the state, provided certain rights and services that he otherwise could not get. We met with our family psychologist later in the week, and he gave us some great ideas and strategies on how to better parent the Boy, and how to build a better relationship with him. He had some ideas we had never considered, and it was really helpful. The doctor also has the copy of the evaluation report, and we'll see what he says about that when we go back in two weeks. The question of autism spectrum is still there, but it seems very unlikely to us based on the report. Either way, we are making great progress, and I am finally feeling empowered and able to help my son. What an amazing answer to prayer.

When you feel lost and helpless, it is easy to give up and hide your head in the sand. I let myself get beaten down, and I forgot that I have God on my side. If He is for me, who could possibly stand against me?

Sometimes I'm hiding away, from the madness around me, like a child who's afraid of the dark, but when I call on Jesus, all things are possible, I can mount on wings like eagles and soar... (Call on Jesus, Nicole C. Mullen)

A New Day

I'm very scattered lately. I have had several topics I wanted to write about, but never organized myself enough to do that. I'm tired, I'm stressed, I'm fighting the depression.... I'm always remembering after the fact that I need to let God carry these things for me.

The school psychologist called the other day and told me that she had the Boy's teacher fill out an autism spectrum checklist and the results came back high. I don't know how to respond to that. It's too much to think about, so for now it's in a cubbyhole in my mind. I filled out the one she sent home and tried not to over think my answers.

I'm lost in a sea of people.... guidance counselors, teachers, school psychologists, family psychologist, medical assistance people, social workers.... a sea of anonymous people who don't know my son the way that I do. I called my sponsor and told her how I was feeling, and that I had gone back to my doctor to change my anti-depressant yet again. The current one isn't working anymore, and it's making me sweat like crazy, along with odd muscle tics. He told me that I need to see a psychiatrist, because he has done all he can for me with the drugs that he is familiar with. I need to see someone with more knowledge, etc. I told her that I was annoyed about this, but fine, whatever, I'll find a new doctor and go. My sponsor asked me if I was open to therapy. I said if I had to that I would, but I didn't really see a need for it. My depression is just clinical, it's not based on anything going on in my life. She pressed me about this, asking if I would consider that maybe there was more to it than that. Looking at the conversation in hindsight, I don't know how I didn't realize this a long time ago. The harder things get with the Boy, the worse I feel. The more phone calls I need to make for him, the more I withdraw. I've been in this cycle of phone calls for two years, and one person after another sends me elsewhere, passing the buck, and not helping my son. I'm so angry, and I'm so frustrated, that I have withdrawn into this place where I do nothing for him, and instead he suffers and I suffer.

My sponsor asked how this was helping the Boy, and I broke. I tried for so long and got nowhere, and I gave up. Nothing was working so I felt like a failure and stopped trying. The worse it got, the more I spiraled, and now here I am; depressed, angry, and with a son who is still undiagnosed, and with no idea how to help him or myself.

I did what my sponsor told me to, and called my insurance company to find a new doctor. They told me to call the mental health coverage company. The mental health company told me to call the insurance company. The insurance company told me to call the mental health company. I told them that I already had, and got told that they would give a message to a supervisor, who has still not called me back. I just want to hide in my bed and not deal with any of this anymore.

God, help me to start over... grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can..... and the wisdom to know the difference.

Marriage

I haven't talked about this for a long time on the blog, so here goes.... marriage is hard work. Here endeth the lesson. Ok, so really, it's hard to talk about, but the Man and I have had a rough year or two. No divorce talk or anything that awful, but just having a hard time of it. I know people sometimes call that 'going through a rough patch,' but I really hate that expression. It implies that the circumstances are outside of us, when in reality most of us create our own issues within our marriages. I have bad habits, the Man has bad habits, we don't deal with our stuff in healthy ways, we take things out on each other.... all that normal marriage stuff that you let fester when you are busy raising kids and having lives that involve jobs and pets and gym memberships.

We had come to a point a year ago last summer that we knew we had to make some major changes, which is how we finally came to the decision to leave our old church. A year into life at the new church, we have somehow found ourselves still in an unhappy place in our married life. I'm not looking to air our dirty laundry (an overused expression that I do happen to like), but I think it's important to talk about how we're handling it.

We made an appointment with one of our pastors and met with him tonight for about 90 minutes. Hands down, this is the smartest thing that I think any couple can do when they are struggling. Pastor Cam was incredibly helpful & insightful, and gave us both a lot to think about. One of the issues we deal with is the spiritual leadership of our family. With the work schedule that the Man keeps, he is not at home for huge amounts of time, and when he is, he's exhausted and just wants to relax. I get that, and most of the time it didn't bother me. But with the onset of my season of depression last year, the burden of being a single mom 95% of the time became too much for me to carry any longer. I didn't handle that in a healthy way, and the Man in turn did not respond to me in a healthy way. I have all of the home responsibilities & chores, child rearing, homework, sports, music lessons, church activities, dealing with an ADHD child & all of the school services & meetings that go with that, doctors appointments, birthday parties...... the list is absolutely endless, and yet somehow I am also supposed to find time in there to be a helpmate & lover to my husband and a spiritual leader to our children. *SYSTEM OVERLOAD*

I want the Man to be the spiritual leader of our family. The Man wants to be the spiritual leader of our family. But neither of us have ever really thought of constructive ways to make that happen. Cam suggested that a mentor could show the Man how to do this, and asked if he had ever had one. The answer is no; he has a great relationship with my dad, but he really needs someone who isn't family to fill this need. Cam said he would be glad to help the Man find the right person for this, and I really felt a weight beginning to lift from me. I never wanted to be the nagging fishwife, but I didn't know how to motivate the Man to do what he needed to do. What a relief to realize that I don't have to, and that's not my job!

I am not Super Woman. I am not interested in being Super Woman. Unfortunately one of my major character defects is that I don't ask for help when I need it. My sponsor and I have addressed this in the past, and I've gotten a lot better at it. But it's a struggle for me. I dislike being codependent on any level, and I'm on my own here most of the time anyway, so why bother? It's hard not to sink into that crummy attitude, especially when you're depressed already. I'm on my third medication and I'm heading back to the doctor to switch yet again, as this one isn't working very well now.

The point is that I'm not giving up. I'm continuing to try, asking my doctor for help, asking our pastor for help, expressing my needs to my husband. I HATE doing these things but I do them because I have to. I don't have a choice, it's either ask for help, or continue to let my life crumble until I pick up a drink again. I'm not going to flush eight years of hard work down the drain, so I choose to fight for myself and for my marriage.

Kate told me that when I feel like I can't go on, God will go on for me, and that God will fight for my marriage. That has been a huge comfort to me, knowing that He has my back. I love and adore my husband, but marriage isn't easy, especially with a recipe like ours. I can't imagine how people live without the knowledge that He is on their side, and I'm glad that I don't have to.

I get an email every day from dictionary.com with a word of the day. Today's word was intrepid, and it means fearless, bold, brave, undaunted, courageous..... I may not feel like that lately, but my God will be those things for me until I do.

How Great Is Our God

Hello citizens, here I am. I was stewing a bit tonight, trying to think of something to blog about. Honestly, I feel so darn good lately, that I haven't felt like blogging much. I have always used writing as an outlet, and these days I haven't needed one. God has been so good to me, and the medication is finally working, and I feel GOOD. I don't think I even realized how badly I was feeling, until I felt this way again.

I was in the car recently and heard Chris Tomlin's song, How Great Is Our God. I love this song dearly, but it's been hard to listen to since we left our old church. It was a tune that the kids used to sign to and it always moved me so much. Anytime I would hear it since December, I would get teary and ache for what we had given up. I miss all of those dear people so very much, and it's hard to lead a new life without them in it. But as I listened to it last week, I found myself singing along, and smiling and I suddenly realized, that I had joy in my heart. Not just joy, but overwhelming, heart filling JOY. As I drove down the road, I sang my heart out, and cried my eyes out in thankfullness, knowing that my dark night of the soul was over. I made it out the other side. It's time to move forward, and live the amazing life that I already have.

Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change

I'm feeling human these days, not quite great, but not so bad. I don't think this prescription will be my final option, but we shall see.

So a few weeks ago I went on the women's retreat. It was good, bad and interesting. God definitely wanted me there, but it was very difficult for me. I had to deal with a lot of emotional junk that I have been carrying around for a long time, including my issues with abandonment and feeling invisible. I'm new to this church, so I only knew a few people, which made it difficult for me. But in the end, I'm so glad I went, and I made some new friends along the way.

The speaker for the weekend taught on the story of Isaac and Rebekah. The teaching was good, and she also gave her testimony. Her husband had a heart attack eight years ago, and suffered brain damage because of it. He is now like a seven year old child, and she is his caregiver. What strength this woman must daily require from God to get through that.

On Saturday evening I was chatting with one of the ladies that I know from my Bible study. We got on the subject of my grandmother, and I shared about my struggle with being angry at God about her. The unfairness of being widowed so young, raising her children alone, and then being widowed again when she finally got remarried, and ending up alone in a nursing home with Alzheimer’s Disease…. It’s just more than I can stand, and I cry about her fairly often. (though some of that is my depression I’m sure) My friend had some good perspective and was really a comfort to me about it. She pointed out that at least my Gram had those 3 years with my step-grandfather, and that it could have been worse; he could have ended up like the speaker’s husband who is endlessly trapped in the mind of a child. I knew she had a good point.

At the last session on Sunday morning the speaker was talking about how she had been talking to a group of women about God’s will, and how we must be willing to give Him everything. She said she didn’t really know what that was though. The next day, standing by her husband’s hospital bed, she knew: this was her everything. I cried when she said that, and it was like a light bulb went off. If Gram had known where her life would take her, if God had come to her at the beginning and said, “Marcia, will you do this for Me? Will you give me everything?”….. she would have said yes. My Gram loves Jesus, and she would have said yes. This realization gave me a peace after all these years of being angry at God for letting her get sick. My anger at the unfairness began to melt, and is pretty nearly gone. I have acceptance and peace now. I know I will have to work at keeping that, because surely the devil won’t want me to stay that way. But for now, I am at peace about it.

The Invisible Woman

I know, it's been ages and no blogging. I tend to blog mostly about things that make me laugh or inspire me, and lately, well, things have been kind of rough for me. I did attend the women's retreat with my new church last weekend, and I do have some good stories to share from that. I hope to get to those soon. But for now, I have just been feeling melacholy and down, and struggling with a lot of different emotions. Nothing major has happened or changed, it's just me. Me trying to get out of a funk that seems never-ending, hoping to find my way out of the dark with a little prescription help. So far I'm on my second prescription and I'm still just blah. The first one gave me nightmares, so my doctor switched me to something else. No more nightmares, but it doesn't seem to be bringing me out of it, at least not yet.

I dealt with depression for many years while I was drinking, and this is my first experience with it during sobriety. It's very hard to try to get through it without a crutch, and to face it head-on. I just want to feel like myself again. I know it will get better eventually, I don't doubt that. And I know God is with me.