Thursday, September 16, 2010

The big D and I don't mean Dallas...(or divorce).

Photo by Joth, taken on his Little Tykes digital camera.
My computer is you get what you can off of Hubbs lappy.

Two and a half years ago, I couldn't tell you what it felt like to feel desperate, or in a dark place. I am almost certain I knew the grips of depression, but I was somehow able to find my way through, continue each day and live. Then when all hell broke loose , and then again, and again and again, I lost bits of me to that hell. Parts I wish I could get back, but hard as I try, I can't seem to find them.

“If people bring so much courage to this world the world has to kill them to
break them, so of course it kills them. The world breaks every one and afterward
many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It
kills the very good, and the very gentle, and the very brave impartially. If you
are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too, but there will be no
special hurry.” --Ernest Hemingway

This quote almost perfectly describes how I have been feeling. Especially if you subsititue 'world' with 'depression'. I feel like depression has been trying to break me. I hate it.

The other night I was SO tired, and the insomnia hit, everything hit and I cried myself to sleep. I wrote on my facebook wall, how much I would love to know how it feels to navigate this world without having to carry depression on my shoulders. It is a heavy weight and the good days and bad days are so interspersed that I don't know who is friend and who is foe anymore. It is heavy stuff. What does that feel like friends? What does it feel like to be free, to be able to wake up and make breakfast for your kids, walk them to school, without coming home and wanting nothing but to go back to bed? What is that like to feel otherwise?

I talked with Casey a few weeks back. She suffers from depression as well, and one thing we both have in common and which we discussed, and which she put on her blog a few days ago, is the lack of the ability to take full breaths. Really. Think about it. The anxiety and depression are so terrible some days that most days I don't take full breaths. Even as I sit here, I am not. No wonder I am depressed, my brain is lacking sufficient oxygen. ;)

I am courageous, I am brave, I am good, and I am gentle, I am trying to be strong in my broken places regardless of this depression.

Regardless if I must row the boat through the misty darkness for the rest of my life, I still see the light at the end of the tunnel. I see the happiness around me, I hear the laughter of my sweet children, the love of my husband, and they keep me rowing. I love myself regardless of you depression. I may have to get out and wade through the churning waters at times, but I will never stop because of you. I will never allow you to hurt me so much that I let you overpower me, and I may find bits of me in this murky water, and I will salvage the pieces of me that I can from you, and arrive safely 0n the other side, and when I do depression, I am going to punch you in the throat and kick you in the nads.


designHER Momma said...

awe kim, I know where your at, totally. I know the feelings of shortness of breath and heavy anxiety.

thank you for sharing, you are not alone. we (I) am here for you. You are beautiful.

Emily said...

Please keep rowing and wading and breathing. And whenever you can, let some of us carry you. Love you.

Angela said...

Thanks for your honesty. I hit rock bottom last year as my life was falling apart all around me and I was just laying there unable to do anything to help. Its been 11 months since I came home (from inlaws who were helping and taking care of me) and it is a million shades of better. Sure problems are still there but there is a light, and you can come back from this. Love ya!

Cassie said...

Laughter truly is the best medicine. At least for me anyway. Even though I continue to take my depression meds, I still have hard days. I've recently learned, and maybe it's only a temporary solution, to call my good friend who always gets me laughing, motivates me to be a good mom and to clean my house. She probably doesn't even know how much she helps me with those things. Hang in there. Find one thing that helps you do just one thing. Cling to it, take advantage of it. Then call me. I'm funny and I'll make you laugh. Love you!

Bec said...

Kim - I will do the hay-maker on your depression friend after you have kicked it in the nads. Seriously. I just wanted you to know that sometimes people are given things like this to help other people. I know very cliche but follow me - you going through this and being so open and honest about it on your blog helps others who can't be open and honest about it. You going through this helps "your man" (is that what you call him on here?) and you understand more people you meet who are going through the same thing. And think of your man - you going through this may be a trial that he chose - it is his trial as well as your own. Trust and Faith will help - but that doesn't mean it won't suck some days. Keep those blessings you mentioned in mind just like you always do and keep in touch with your long lost friend Bec -because she loves you. Hope there is no offense in this comment. Just love.

Laur said...

you should write a book. You are a beautiful writer and you have a gift with words...think about it :)

me said...

I love your honesty! Anxiety had been a part of my life as long as i can remember, and some days it just feels like too, too much. It's nice to know that there are others out there, who struggle as well, and we can all get through this together!

Mareefer said...

I am also struggling... I was already having a hard time, and recent events have made it worse. I didn't even realize at first what was going on... A guy at work said, "Marie, you hardly ever smile anymore. You used to be so smiley." I really had no idea I was depressed. But now that it has been brought to my attention I notice it every minute of every day. I miss being happy and carefree.

Julie Carlile said...

Thank you for sharing this post. LIfe has been extremely hard lately for me and it is nice to know that I am not the only one feeling so much pain and anger. I hope things can get better for you. I love you! I also wanted to say thank you so much for your comment awhile ago on my blog. IT really cheered me up. :) Love you.

Kim . . . wyomingmade said...

Kim -
You make me feel like it might just be normal to have a sink overloading with dishes, a bed that hasn't been made in a week, and so many projects just staring at me all day, makes me want to cry. This mom and taking care of house thing is a blessing but it is not for the weak! I think some times just getting out of bed is an accomplishment to enjoy. All my love, miss your guts and love your honesty.

Kellee said...

You're amazing. Depression is a really hard thing. I kind of envision the ass kicking you are mentioning. Did you ever see What Happens In Vegas? Depression opens the door, you drop down and junk punch it, stand over it while pointing down at it, and say, "You know why. YOU KNOW WHY." Depression is an asshole.

Lace said...

Kim, I love you! I know how it feels to not be able to take a full breath, that is my constant burden as well. You are strong and you will beat this, I have no doubt! Also, I have to say, Jothan is quite the little protege! Tell him I love his picture of you!

Holly said...

You probably know this, but Hemingway struggled with depression and eventually succumbed to it. Most of the great artists struggled with inner daemons that we now call "brain chemistry imbalances". You're in good company. It may feel like lead weights on your shoulders but I think you have done a good job of taking it and using it to help take you to new heights creatively and personally. In the end, no non-depressed person will be able to tell you what it feels like to be herself. But, strangely, a depressed person can do so quite eloquently.

Lindsey said...


I love you. I knew your story a little bit, but just read the whole thing through. I haven't known you long, but what I see is beautiful and strong and talented and kind and thoughtful and awesome.

You have been through hell, but you are amazing. I'm sorry your day was so rough. What really touched me was the end of your post about your baby, and the uncertainty you felt about the future and future children, and then I thought of Camilla and it made me cry a little bit. Although my experience was totally different, I remember that uncertainty and sadness before we did our IVF process and in the years we tried. Your honesty is so brave and seriously, I hope we can all kick that beast in the nads :)