A little history of my last year and reasons for where I am. Why would someone who has a wonderful husband, two beautiful daughters, involved parents, a great group of friends and a secure job have so much depression and sadness?
Honestly, I have dealt with depression most of my adult life. I was always a very sensitive kid. When I was happy, I was extremely happy, but when I was sad I could stay there for hours, sometimes days. As I got older and relationships began developing, I developed feelings quickly. The only problem,I kept it all inside, like I wanted to protect myself. In college, I got better, but started trusting people too quickly. Unfortunately, trusting quickly can backfire. Some friends that I thought would be huge supporters through crisis ran. Others said hurtful words to me. I was left alone. I went back to my old ways of keeping things inside. I always questioned friendships after that. This would play a role in much of my life 20 years later.
In the last year, my role as a mom was changing and I didn't like it. I wasn't needed in the same ways. I had babysat a little guy a few days a week that helped fill that void, but then that job ended. I had a hysterectomy that I needed and wanted, but brought the reality that we were done having kids. I lost three family members within a year, two of them being my grandmothers. I didn't allow myself to grieve. I drifted from a few friends that really meant something to me. I tried to be strong, but felt the opposite. I could feel myself slipping into a slump.
I dealt with it all by drinking a little more. I didn't feel it was too bad most of the time. I saved it for the weekends, but if I was invited to join in, rarely did I turn it down. As time went on, I noticed when I drank, I was beginning to drink until drunk. I began having moments where I would get extremely emotional. My anxiety was getting worse. I would shake my leg, rub my hands, scratch and pick my nails. I couldn't sit still and I knew it made people around me uncomfortable at times. I never related it to drinking and depression issues. I thought all my friends were judging me and I began giving them reasons to run like hell.
Last winter, after learning more about someone from my past, my emotions began really getting the best of me. I talked more about counseling, but wasn't biting the bullet. My history with counselors pretty much sucked and I didn't have much faith in finding anyone that could help me. I questioned if I could even trust a counselor not to judge me.
After a few trips this summer, visiting with friends and getting really drunk, I realized I had to go to counseling or I really was going to lose friends and possibly my family. After sharing with my husband that my baggage just wouldn't go away, it was time to "unpack." (I have an amazing husband that I don't think I have ever allowed myself to believe I deserve).
I began going to counseling in August and I felt counseling was good for me. She was easy to talk to, easy to make appointments to be seen. I wasn't going to struggle to get in and, well, it didn't seem like she was prying too much. This was going to be a breeze. Ha, well, before long she wanted to see me weekly. We began digging to the heart of what my issues were. Damn, I had a lot of baggage, old baggage. Was I really wanting to do this? Was it worth unpacking stuff that hurt so badly? I got scared and began drinking after each session. That's healthy right??? I hated feeling the pain so why not numb myself. This was becoming my cycle.
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