I started taking online classes, then had to stop because I have no way of "attending" since my Mac finally bit the dust. I plan on starting again this fall, after everything calms down and we're able to get a new computer. It's the waiting that is hard, and the feeling like I've failed again. I just keep telling myself I'll start again.
I endured and finally fought (see:kicked and scraped) my way through a severely debilitating depression. I didn't want to do anything but sleep. Curiously, I opened up to all the wrong people in the beginning, and was chastised and patronized for feeling the way that I did. They made my situation, the struggles I was facing, all look juvenile. As if I was silly for feeling the way I did. As if what had me so stressed was ridiculous, and didn't warrant my being distant.
So, before I could suffer through anymore humiliation, I bottled it up, and kept it from those who actually cared. I cowered away from facing what I was feeling, until one night when I didn't want to feel it any longer. I didn't want to feel anything. Something inside me snapped, and I called one of my sisters. I don't know how she talked me down (I really don't know how she could even understand me), but she managed to save my life that night. I never came out and said what I wanted. It was as if she just knew, and just kept reassuring me that I was loved, that everything would be okay, and that those who would love to see me fail didn't matter in the least.
The next morning, I opened up to Jonothan. I told him how I had felt, and how far I had let it go. I told him, at the end of the night, the only thing that stopped me was knowing that he would be the one to find me. The thought of him going through something so terrible, and all because I was too scared to fight, made me sick. Everyone has their reason, their saving grace, for not letting go. Those people in my life that make waking up every day worth while; they're the ones I lived for, when living for myself was not enough.
Depression is terrifying, and all-encompassing. It affects every little thing, every view-point, every breath. It's not to be taken lightly, and it is not to be mocked. I'm lucky I have people around me who will drop everything to see that I take a breath. I couldn't be more grateful if I tried, and I do try.
I started taking classes at a school of massage. It has been something I've always wanted to do, and I was graciously awarded the opportunity to do so with hardly any money out-of-pocket. While it was originally supposed to be only a six month program, I've managed to drag it out to nearly 9 months, thanks to sleeping everyday rather than attending class. I'm lucky to have an instructor and administrator that understand, and love, and fight for me to finish. I'll be starting again in June, and finishing out the unit that I missed in seven weeks. I'll finally finish something. It'll be amazing.
Thanks to massage school, I gained a group of friends that fought fiercely for me to believe in myself. I am lucky to have them, and -even though I wasn't always present- I could feel their positive intent every single day.
I quit a job that, at times, made it difficult to breathe. I have no ill-will toward the place or people, but I hate that it came to such a debilitating point for me. I should have seen it coming, but I was too stubborn thinking I could handle all of these things at once. It's a learning process, life. You either bend and gracefully bounce back, or you bend until you break. Then you have to piece yourself back together. We all learn in different ways, and sometimes the break method is my thing.
I started a job at a wellness center working the front desk, and it's a completely different experience. It's the perfect place for me to be in this in-between stage, and will be much more relaxing while I'm finishing school.
Four of my sisters and both of my (soon-to-be) sister-in-laws got pregnant, and all but one has had her baby (so far). I've had a niece or nephew born nearly every 6 weeks or so for the past few months. All the while my uterus is over here like, "What? Oh. That egg I made wasn't good enough for you? Okay. Here's a hissy-fit for you to enjoy instead, then." I was so ready, I thought, for a baby. Then everyone around me started having them, like it was some kind of fashion statement, and I changed my mind. Ain't nobody got time for that...Not now, anyway. Me and my uterus have much to accomplish before we embark on that adventure.
We lost a furry family member, Freya, to life-altering hip dysplasia. We watched helplessly as our surviving dog, Juno, went through her own bought of depression from losing her friend. Then, finally, we gained a new fur baby with Harley Quinn. She and Juno became fast friends, and we're grateful for her quick turn-around. Juno is eating again, and Harley adores her. Juno still sleeps with (and refuses to tear up) Freya's favorite toy, a purple pig that snorts when you squeeze it. You never realize how much emotional depth a dog has until you watch their reaction to death.
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| Sweet Freya |
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| Juno and Harley |
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| Spring Engagement Shoot Photo Cred: Tabitha Adcox |
I got engaged to the man of my dreams. No, really y'all, he's amazing. I'm not just saying it because it's nice to say. I'm saying it because he proves it every single day. I'm saying it because, when I was fighting an incredible depression, he stuck by me. He didn't turn and run. He embraced me and never let go. He took in all my flaws as if they weren't there. He helped me fight. He reminded me daily how much I was loved. Once again, I'm lucky to have him. I'm blessed to call him my future-husband, and his family my family.
I recently had an intuitive therapy session, and it brought up a great deal of emotion. The end result was a fantastic mantra that I grasp tightly to on a daily basis: It's not the destination that is important; it's the journey. Every battle I've faced led me to where I am, and it's where I am supposed to be. If I hadn't left my last job for the sake of my sanity, I wouldn't have ended up working somewhere where I would learn so much about myself. If I hadn't dealt with my depression the way I did, I would have never learned just how bad it can truly get. Now I am thankful for each day, good and bad, because it's never as bad as that night.
So that's my story. That's the past year rolled up into a (super long) blog post. I'm excited about what the rest of this year has to offer, and can't wait to see what surprises it brings.
