Tag: depression

Fires.

You all, I went into panic mode major yesterday. I got on the good ole Instagram to post this photo, and couldn’t find it. Ever since I had put an SD card into my phone, Instagram has had some issues pulling things from my phone’s gallery, so at first I didn’t think anything of it. But I went in and searched for it like I normally do in the SD card memory and it wasn’t there. I got to looking and a ton of my pictures were missing, like THOUSANDS of pictures. The SD card that had been about half full now said that almost all the memory was empty. I was FREAKING OUT. I was trying to stay calm hoping that somehow my husband could save the day when he got home from work. I then remembered that we had downloaded the Amazon photos app just a few weeks ago and had backed up our photos to that. The day was saved, right? Not quite. When I opened the app, all it was showing me were the same photos my phone said I had… just a couple hundred, not the thousands we had backed up. Well, I was totally freaked out then, and noticed that my phone was getting really hot. So, I took out the SD card and put it into my computer… it still said there was hardly anything on it. At this point, I was really trying to come to terms with the fact that I may had lost all my pictures of our life from the last year and a half (I had backed up earlier ones before this on a physical hard drive). All I had were the ones I had posted on Facebook. But, after removing the SD card from my phone, I closed all the apps, prayed, then opened the Amazon photo app again. They were all there except the ones taken after September 10th of this year. I was so ecstatic. I guess something happened that day, and I’m glad I caught it when I did.

When hubby got home he found a program online to scan the SD card and found (I think, I’m kind of afraid to look) all of my photos and videos hidden in the “free space” of the card. Yeah, I’m not using that anymore. Ugh.

A few days ago, I saw two different instances where local families’ houses had burned down and they had lost everything. I had already been thinking about the people affected by the wildfires out west, how horrible it would be to literally lose everything I own. Then, I saw some pictures from Rachael Ray’s [the TV chef. I sort of love her a lot!] home. Her house burned down several months ago from a fireplace fire, and she shared photos of the devastation as the new season of her show started. I cried. I can’t imagine losing everything. I mean, I know that everyone says, “as long as everyone is okay, it’s just stuff, it can be replaced.” And that’s true. People are far more important than any earthly thing. However, family heirlooms are not replaceable; your kids’ artwork and handmade gifts are not replaceable; your favorite book you’ve read a million times over the years that is worn in just the right way is not replaceable. These things are just lost. It got me thinking about life and how sometimes we need spiritual fires to make us move. Sometimes we have to be shaken and our world has to be turned upside down for us to wake up, to see things with fresh eyes, and to get up and move. When I’m really comfy on the couch, I don’t want to move; I’m perfectly content to be where I am and have no intention of moving until I absolutely have to. I’ve found out the hard way lately that life isn’t comfortable, and when we start to think we might be comfortable, change comes charging in before we ever know what hit us. It turns over the couch and throws us into the floor. Life is hard. I’ll say that again because it’s so stinking true: LIFE. IS. HARD.

All these “sayings” that you hear about life being about more than stuff, about how time goes so quickly, about how we’re never guaranteed tomorrow… those came from wise people. Those came from people who have lived it and know what they’re talking about. Those came from a place of love, trying to spare us from making the same mistakes and taking the same things for granted that they did. But for whatever reason, we humans seem to be inherently stubborn, and we think we know better. We have to find out for ourselves what we’ve heard all along. And it hurts. It’s so painful. And some people never realize it until it’s too late.

I know pictures are also just things, but they are more than that: they are irreplaceable reminders of memories that might otherwise fade. I’m so, so thankful that my hubby seemingly was able to recover them. My heart breaks for people who have lost tangible pieces of their lives and memories in fires or by other natural disasters.

In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith- more precious than gold that perishes in fire – may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.

1 Peter 1:6&7

I feel like in reference to this passage, “a little while” could be considered most of our earthly lives, because compared to eternity, it is in fact just a little while. This is our refining time, and being refined is often hard and painful. But, we can still rejoice in our grieving because of who God is and what He’s done for us, and is still doing for us every day. We can walk through hardships giving praise and honor and glory to Christ, because He has already overcome everything that we are facing. And I’m not saying that this life is all terrible by any means, because it’s not. God gives us daily, minute to minute reminders of how much He loves us and cares for us in the people we love, the beautiful sky, the wonder of nature, and so much more. We just have to slow down to really appreciate them.

Anxious.

You guys, I haven’t been okay lately. Last weekend in particular was straight up awful. My anxiety has been through the roof. I’m feeling a lot better now, but I still keep having feelings popping up that I have to squash quickly, otherwise, I’m feeling like I could quickly fall into that hole again. I haven’t felt anxiety like this in a LONG TIME. It’s so funny, because I had literally just written about the verse in Matthew that starts “do not be anxious…” on Thursday, and by Saturday I was a mess. The context of that verse was a bit different, but it was still that word, anxious. This past Wednesday I wrote this:

Say to those who have an anxious heart, “Be strong; fear not! Behold, your God will come with vengeance, with the recompense of God, He will come and save you.”

Isaiah 35:4

This past weekend was terrible. Friday afternoon, the husband went with me to get an EKG. The whole thing only took about thirty minutes, and the nurse said that she didn’t see any irregularities (which was why I was sent there in the first place), just some palpitations (which I’ve been able to feel for years.) We went to eat afterwards, and the waitress recognized us from our high school. I felt really bad, because she didn’t look familiar to me at all. I also had a conversation in the bathroom with a lady about allergies. Friday night, as I thought about the day, I was thankful for the extra time I got to spend with my husband. I was even a little proud of myself for not freaking out too badly over my test, and even for the social interactions I had (I know that sounds a little ridiculous, but social interaction STRESSES ME OUT. Especially with people I don’t know.)

Saturday, baby girl woke up earlier than usual. I COULD NOT seem to wake up. I was so frustrated with the fact that it was so early, and I was frustrated with her whining. We walked into the kitchen and there were dishes all over the counter. I lost it; I started crying. Later that morning, we were at Lowe’s and after a series of ridiculously minuscule stressors I started crying again. The rest of the day I felt awful – stupid, useless, and unimportant.

I had hoped that Sunday would be better, but those feelings crept up again after church. Both Saturday and Sunday, I just sat on the couch for hours, feeling lost. To top it all off, I left my bible at church.

Monday, I felt terrible physically, then my head started hurting and continually got worse throughout the day. My gynecologist called and didn’t like my labs – my cholesterol was high, and my blood pressure had been high the day I went too. I was stressed about that. I ended up getting so very sick that night. It was the worst migraine I have had in a while. The husband offered to go get me ginger ale while I was sobbing in the bathroom floor, but I told him no. Later I admitted that I was terrified that he was going to get in a car wreck and die because he was running out for me, and that’s why I told him no. Yeah.. I told you, I was in a bad place.

Yesterday was MUCH better, but that anxious/depressive episode I had scared me. I haven’t felt that down in a long time. So, I finally have my bible back and I’m glad I found this verse. I forgot for a few days that I was worthy of rescuing.

I also wrote a detailed account of how I was feeling on Saturday, and I feel it’s important for you all to see that too – it’s just a small glimpse of what was going through my head. I often get stressed about little things, but I keep my anxiety in check most of the time. It doesn’t usually cripple me to the point where I literally just sit there not knowing how to process what I’m feeling.

Today was awful. I woke up around 5 AM, looked at the clock, and went back to sleep thinking that I had about 1.5 to 2 hours more to sleep. Baby girl fell asleep late last night, so I figured she would sleep in… I don’t know why, she never does. Just after 6 I heard her whining a bit, then she started crying. Last night, I had seriously contemplated waking up the husband this morning so I could sleep in, but when I heard her so early, I decided not to. She switched from crying for her daddy to mama, so I finally got up and went in there. She was trying to get out of the bed, so I picked her up and tried to cuddle her. She said she needed a diaper, so I changed it. The whole time she was on the changing table, she repeated, “eat,” over and over. I was so sleepy and couldn’t seem to wake up. After her diaper change, I took her and sat in the chair in her room. She had a small meltdown, and just kept saying, “up,” over and over and over again. I started whining like a child, telling her I just wanted to sit… not my proudest moment. She stopped fussing for a second, examined my face and then kind of tapped my chin, and said, “you need coffee.” If I hadn’t been so tired and if that hadn’t been such an incredibly true statement, I probably would have busted out laughing. Yes, yes I did need coffee. She went back to fussing, then finally added a desperate “please” onto one of her “up”s. I got up and carried her down the hallway (she has to be carried in the mornings, it’s just one of those things we do.) We walked into the kitchen, she’s saying “eat” on repeat again, and I look around and there is not a single spot of counter space open- there are literally dishes everywhere because we didn’t do the dishes last night. I lost it, I cried. Baby girl agreed to eggs for breakfast, with the promise of a doughnut after she finished them. I made her some, and while she was eating, I worked on the dishes that were causing me such anxiety. I was emptying the dishwasher and went to put one of my favorite mugs on the drying rack. I dropped it in the sink, it made an awful racket, and the handle broke off. I was trying so very hard to stay calm, but I was pretty upset.

Fast forward to later this morning, we were at Lowe’s. We got there at baby girl’s normal lunchtime, so I was a little stressed out over that. But, she was amazed at all the Halloween and Christmas decorations, we looked at countertops and kitchen cabinets, I thought I was fine. At one point she got in trouble for not holding my hand while walking through the store, and had to sit in the buggy. I diffused that situation with a squeeze pouch I found in my purse. We actually went to Lowe’s so the husband could buy some trim for baby girl’s room. There were no big carts in sight, and he went off to find one. All the sudden, I felt so alone. I was holding baby girl, who kept asking to go, “that way.” I finally let her walk around a bit, hoping it would tire her out because it was quickly creeping up on her nap time. The husband had to walk back out into the parking lot to find a cart, so he was taking forever. Our buggy didn’t have anything in it, and we walked down the aisle away from it. A man carrying several items passed us, browsed the same aisle for a minute, then slung all of his stuff into our empty buggy and kept looking. For some ridiculous reason, that upset me. It was our buggy, even though we didn’t need it. When the husband came back and started loading the wood for the trim, he asked if I still liked it (it has been a while since we decided on a look we liked.) I said that now that I was looking at it, I was a little worried that it might be too tall. He joked about it being a little late to change things, since he had already done the door casings. I felt so stupid for some reason, and started crying again.

When we got home, we put baby girl to bed, and I just sat on the couch. The husband played a game on the computer, and I just sat there. I finally turned on Fixer Upper, but I wasn’t really watching it. Not even that could cheer me up. I just had these awful feelings of uselessness, self-loathing, emptiness. I felt completely lost. Baby girl slept for over two and half hours and I just sat there the whole time. When she got up, we went outside to play, her daddy was working on the trim, and her granny came to visit. All that improved my mood quite a bit. The husband had brought in the totes with the fall clothes in them, and mom entertained baby girl while I worked on that some. I felt productive and a little better.

I don’t know where this sadness has come from – seemingly nowhere. I’m not quite sure really what I’m even sad about, but this is anxious depression like I’ve never felt. I’m quadruple guessing my every decision, I regret every word that comes out of my mouth, and I feel physically awful. This can go away now please.

I feel really exposed putting all that out there, but if it can help one person feel that they aren’t alone, then it’s so worth it. It has taken me over a week to gather all these words and articulate what I’ve been feeling, and I feel like I still haven’t hit it on the head. And, honestly, I’m really REALLY bad at articulating myself. I haven’t even told my husband all this yet, because the words in my head are all jumbled and don’t make any sense. If I had tried to explain it, I can guarentee you that I would have left feeling dumb again. I’ll let him read this first, before you all, haha.

I realized after I wrote all this out, that this was just one more thing in my life that I had a choice about. I could let my feelings overtake me and just get lost in my awful thoughts, or I could cling to God’s promise that He will rescue me and praise Him in the midst of it. I could feel sorry for myself, or I can use it to help others. I choose to do the latter.