Depression
It's frustratingly simple. I didn't want to be fine. I wanted to sit and stare or sleep every chance I got. I didn't want to get up and do laundry or wash dishes or see friends. I am having to admit at this moment that my post-partum depression was healed and I didn't want it to be. I didn't have an excuse anymore.
I should have been happy. Joyous. Excited. To realize suddenly one day that I wasn't looking through life through dark sunglasses anymore. The herbal remedy I was hoping would work, because it is affordable and without side effects, actually was. It got me able to summit the mountain I had been trudging up two steps only to slide back 3. I was at the top. The view should of been beautiful.
Only, it wasn't. I have read a lot about depression, especially post partum depression. I felt like I knew my foe. I prayed for God to lead me to the right thing to help. I was given several verses about overcoming obsticals with help from others. So I researched medicines, natural and man-made and talked with friends who have suffered. Not having health insurance, I decided to try the natural medication I thought had the best reviews, safety and price. Great. It came in the mail. Good. I took it every day for a couple of weeks. Hope started to stream in instead of just trickle. Wonderful.
Except in surmounting my counter attack I didn't realize that I would inevitably be forced to see the casualties of this battle. And from the mountain top, boy do you have a clear view of the world around you.
Brad had been working really hard, 10-17 hour days. He didn't have time to do much around the house to help out. He was supporting me as best he could considering the circumstances. So the world I saw around me was chaos.
Loren was not himself. He was beyond the regular almost 5 year old stuff. He was utterly defiant. He was responding the only way he knew how to my being present in body only. I had a lot of work cut out for me to do damage control and return him back to his usual sweet, loving and mischevious self. Luckily the baby was in the stages of needing simple and basic things and was not effected. She actually was the one thing that made me feel needed completely. She helped a lot. Some days I only smiled because of her.
My house was a disaster. No clean dishes, no clean clothes, no clean place to sit the baby down on the floor. I was mortified at the state of affairs in the Loomis house. I was making Brad late for work because the man had to stay up late to do laundry just to have clean clothes to work in. He was working 2 jobs, leaving at 6 am and getting home at midnight or later and he had to wash dishes just to have a plate to eat off of!
I was overwhelmed at the task ahead of me. I could not fathom where to start. Oh no, I thought, I'm sinking back in! The medicine stopped working! Nope. Actually, apathy kicked in. I just didn't want to do it!! And I blamed it on depression. Man, did God kick my butt. And he used the classic Seinfeld pop-in.
Do you know about the pop-in? It's where people just show up at your door, unannounced. They drive up, ring your doorbell and say, "Hey, just thought I'd stop by!"
So God sent my step father in law to my house. Unannounced. FROM NEW MEXICO. That's right. I was so mortified. And so, I got my act together real fast.
Things are better now. I will never be a domestic goddess. But the house is usually presentable now. And I try to make sure everyone has clean clothes to wear. I sleep better at night. I really do.
All that to say, I believe in depression. It's real. Post Partum depression is real and scary and needs to be watched out for. It can hit even 6-9 months after delivery. I didn't know that. I do now. I'm still not all myself. I still am trying to find all of me again. Because I struggled with this without knowing it since having my son in 2001. That's a long time. Medication is good and sometimes necessary.
I realized through this that I was relying on medication and myself to get me through it. So of course I failed, even when I was physcially better. I left God out of the equation. If I don't pray continually and make sure to study the Bible, I fail, miserably. Failing is not the lack of falling. Failing is that I don't pick myself up after a fall and thank God that it happened and reflect on what it has done to change me. And the cool thing is, I have grace to sustain me. All the time. No matter what. Forever.
Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed. 1 Peter 4:12-13
I should have been happy. Joyous. Excited. To realize suddenly one day that I wasn't looking through life through dark sunglasses anymore. The herbal remedy I was hoping would work, because it is affordable and without side effects, actually was. It got me able to summit the mountain I had been trudging up two steps only to slide back 3. I was at the top. The view should of been beautiful.
Only, it wasn't. I have read a lot about depression, especially post partum depression. I felt like I knew my foe. I prayed for God to lead me to the right thing to help. I was given several verses about overcoming obsticals with help from others. So I researched medicines, natural and man-made and talked with friends who have suffered. Not having health insurance, I decided to try the natural medication I thought had the best reviews, safety and price. Great. It came in the mail. Good. I took it every day for a couple of weeks. Hope started to stream in instead of just trickle. Wonderful.
Except in surmounting my counter attack I didn't realize that I would inevitably be forced to see the casualties of this battle. And from the mountain top, boy do you have a clear view of the world around you.
Brad had been working really hard, 10-17 hour days. He didn't have time to do much around the house to help out. He was supporting me as best he could considering the circumstances. So the world I saw around me was chaos.
Loren was not himself. He was beyond the regular almost 5 year old stuff. He was utterly defiant. He was responding the only way he knew how to my being present in body only. I had a lot of work cut out for me to do damage control and return him back to his usual sweet, loving and mischevious self. Luckily the baby was in the stages of needing simple and basic things and was not effected. She actually was the one thing that made me feel needed completely. She helped a lot. Some days I only smiled because of her.
My house was a disaster. No clean dishes, no clean clothes, no clean place to sit the baby down on the floor. I was mortified at the state of affairs in the Loomis house. I was making Brad late for work because the man had to stay up late to do laundry just to have clean clothes to work in. He was working 2 jobs, leaving at 6 am and getting home at midnight or later and he had to wash dishes just to have a plate to eat off of!
I was overwhelmed at the task ahead of me. I could not fathom where to start. Oh no, I thought, I'm sinking back in! The medicine stopped working! Nope. Actually, apathy kicked in. I just didn't want to do it!! And I blamed it on depression. Man, did God kick my butt. And he used the classic Seinfeld pop-in.
Do you know about the pop-in? It's where people just show up at your door, unannounced. They drive up, ring your doorbell and say, "Hey, just thought I'd stop by!"
So God sent my step father in law to my house. Unannounced. FROM NEW MEXICO. That's right. I was so mortified. And so, I got my act together real fast.
Things are better now. I will never be a domestic goddess. But the house is usually presentable now. And I try to make sure everyone has clean clothes to wear. I sleep better at night. I really do.
All that to say, I believe in depression. It's real. Post Partum depression is real and scary and needs to be watched out for. It can hit even 6-9 months after delivery. I didn't know that. I do now. I'm still not all myself. I still am trying to find all of me again. Because I struggled with this without knowing it since having my son in 2001. That's a long time. Medication is good and sometimes necessary.
I realized through this that I was relying on medication and myself to get me through it. So of course I failed, even when I was physcially better. I left God out of the equation. If I don't pray continually and make sure to study the Bible, I fail, miserably. Failing is not the lack of falling. Failing is that I don't pick myself up after a fall and thank God that it happened and reflect on what it has done to change me. And the cool thing is, I have grace to sustain me. All the time. No matter what. Forever.
Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed. 1 Peter 4:12-13
posted by Kimberly | 1:31 PM
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