me being vulnerable. yuck.

I wrote this a week or so ago, but was too chicken to post it. This is not something that I have shared with many people. I don’t know who will read it and it freaks me out thinking about that. You may be a family member or close friend and not have known any of this was going on because I tried to put on a happy face and pretend like everything was ok. Or maybe you did know something was up (cause I am not that great at pretending) but didn’t say anything. Either way, no more hiding. I’m tired of pretending. It’s exhausting.

This is me. For reals.

***

I haven’t blogged as consistently as I had hoped. Life seems to get in the way. Kids, school, baseball practice, piano, husband, dog. You know, those kinds of things.

Well, actually, I wish i could blame it on all of that. But really, it’s because of something else.

Remember how in my very first post I said something like; i want to be real on this blog, be authentic, and all that crap? Well, that was a stupid thing for me to say. Because that is hard to do. Because if I really want to be authentic &  real, then I have to be vulnerable.

And that is just plain scary.

It may not be scary if you and I were sitting over a cup of coffee having a heart to heart and you would promise me that this conversation wouldn’t leave our little table. But it’s a little scary writing it out for all the world to see. Not that all the world sees it, but still. You know what I mean. Putting myself out there. Telling you about my flaws. How I’m not perfect. How I don’t have it all together all the time. Or at all.

And I feel like I have to share this in order to move forward, because it’s a part of me. Part of my story. It’s why I am where I am today. Which is a really good place to be, usually. And I have also learned that when you share, there is someone else out there that can understand what you are saying. There is someone who may need to hear it too. So they know they are not alone.

And I’m not talking about the huge pile of laundry to wash and fold, or a pile of dishes in the sink, or a kitchen floor that needs to be swept, or a minivan that has goldfish and chicken nuggets hidden in the back seat.  No. Not that stuff.

Other stuff.

Stuff like anxiety. And other stuff like depression.

You may shrug this off and think, That’s no big deal.  I get anxious about things too, or Well yeah, some days I’m in a  funk & feel depressed too.

But it’s not that kind of  anxiety and depression. It’s the kind that can consume you, paralyze you.

It consumed me. It paralyzed me. For a long time.

For years I felt lost in a fog. I was going through the motions, but not ever really there. Not ever really listening.  It became my normal. It caused hurt, pain, sadness, frustration, anger. But it didn’t just affect (or is it effect? I never know) me, but those close to me too. I kept asking myself, What is wrong with me? What happened to me? Why can’t I get myself out of this funk? And as many times I asked, I was at a loss. I couldn’t figure it out.

I felt so trapped. I felt like a failure.

And the stinky thing about depression is that it’s not something that you can talk yourself out of or will yourself out of. “Get it together!” and “snap out of it!” kind of stuff does not work. You can’t wish it away or exercise it away. It’s there and it’s real.

A little over a year ago, things were getting a lot worse. I was so desperate, I wanted to go check myself into a hospital. But I didn’t. I should have. Because a few weeks later I crashed and burned. And it wasn’t pretty.

I knew then that I needed to get help. I knew my kids deserved better.

Last year i spent a good chunk of time {and money} in counseling/therapy. I got medicine that would help me. I learned a lot. I found me again.

And things have been good. Our little family is doing well. I’m doing well {for the most part}.

But lately, I can feel it slowly creeping back in. And that scares me more than anything. I can tell that I have retreated. I feel it in the mornings when getting out of bed is so hard (and not the normal “I am tired”). I can tell by my reactions to my kids, my husband, my mom. And because of all of that, I just haven’t been able to write anything on here. If I would have posted some happy pictures or wrote something cute or funny, it wouldn’t be real. And honestly, I have been feeling so low, that I didn’t even want to pretend.

Well, now you know. Not a lot of details, but the general idea, right? I’m sure you’ll be hearing more about it.

So there. That is why. Why you haven’t seen me lately. But now it’s out there …. and I’m feeling better already.

thanks for taking the time to listen.

amber

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...
This entry was posted in Confessions, Stuck-in-a-funk{y} Life. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to me being vulnerable. yuck.

  1. Maggie says:

    Hi! I just found your blog. I’m a Dr.’s wife and my husband is in his first year of his fellowship. I just had our first baby this year, am staying at home, just moved to a new city where we know no one, and I’m struggling with depression (and have on and off for years). Just wanted to say hello, and thanks for being real. I’m one of those people out there who get it and I loved coming across your blog today.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

CommentLuv badge