Hello, all. I told you my posts would take a different turn. Well, before I get too far into this OVERCOMER thing, I thought I should let you in on my story, my battle with depression.
It begins…like this:
Once upon a time…a miracle happened. The birth of my first child. And she was beautiful and perfect and everything she should have been.
And my thoughts about what I should be as a mother kicked in. I had always thought I would be a cross between Mother Theresa and Martha Stewart. I would be SUPERMOM!
But, as I came to find out…”Expectations are pre-meditated miseries”
I should have been happy! Right? I had this perfect little family. This wonderful life.
But I wasn’t. I was irritable, obsessive, compulsive, and anxious. Yet, I didn’t know what to do with these things. So, I suffered in silence.
Then, came another miracle – my second child. A beautiful baby boy. Just as perfect and wonderful as my daughter.
Still, something wasn’t right. I was sad, empty, and I began to withdraw.
I wondered what was happening to me?
It was actually when I was flipping through channels and stopped briefly on Dr. Phil that I had the lightbulb moment. He was listing the symptoms of depression and I knew. I KNEW.
I talked to my husband and we made an appointment with my OB-GYN. Then came the diagnosis, and with it medication. Eventually, a psychiatrist, and counselor.
I’d love to tell you everything started looking up. I mean, I did all the right things, right?
My symptoms became worse.
My whole world was my bedroom, my bed, and the occasional visit to my psychiatrist or my counselor.
I had intrusive suicidal thoughts. And if you’ve never been depressed, it’s difficult to explain these. If you, too, have been in this dark place, I don’t even need to tell you. They became more and more compulsive until one day I couldn’t overcome them.
It was time to get more help. And so, I landed in a Behavioral Health Hospital.