Depression and Anxiety and Stay at home Parenting - OH MY...

As someone who struggles with depression, one of those days has a whole different meaning to me. Today has been one of those days. It has been one of those days where I call it a win to have gotten out of bed. It has been one of those days where it was a Herculean effort to put one foot in front of the other and stay up and moving. It was a day when I wanted nothing more to lay down, pull a blanket up over my head, and not move for like a month. Or more. Never less. You can't really do that in society. You definitely can't do that as a stay at home mom. Being a stay at home mom adds an element to depression that I don't know if I could ever have imagined it before. Being a stay at home mom who suffers from depression quite frankly sucks. Because on days when you can't even fathom taking care of the basic needs of yourself to keep functioning - you have to not only keep your kid(s) going, but you have to keep the throws of your utter despair from effecting them. NO PRESSURE.

Now do not get me wrong. I am not saying that all parents at some point do not want to throw in the towel. They do. I am sure of it. At some point, parents who do not suffer from depression have bad days, and they want nothing more then to wallow in it and be able to be selfish and they can't be. I am not taking anything away from those people. I am simply saying a truth that society may not like to recognize - because lets face it, there is still a HUGE stigma associated with mental illness - its hard to do it when you suffer from depression. Boiling it down to basic facts, living day to day is harder to do when you suffer from depression. There is no true way to describe it to people who don't do it.

The best are the days when your depression and anxiety both come knocking. Those days, my God. You managed to open your eyes - you deserve a medal. You sat up and considered getting out of bed. You deserve a parade to go with that medal. If you get up and out of bed, I am throwing in a wrap party when the parade is over. If you get up and parent those days...well, you get all the medals, parades and parties in the land. You won't care of course, because you are having an anxiety attack and depression episode all at once, so what you want is to curl up in the fetal position, rock, maybe hum, under a blanket, listening to your headphones, and all alone. So you know, when you are feeling a little more up to it - medals, parades and parties. So now add in a 22 month old, who just wants to run and climb and dance and spin and play outside and then inside and then outside and then inside...you get the point. You get up and you manage to do all that, making sure your kid eats and dresses, and gets changed and plays and laughs and learns. You get all the accolades and celebrations in the land. Except here's the thing - you don't.

So I want to introduce you to the mind of a stay at home parent who is in the throes of a depression episode and an anxiety attack. There are days when I wake up and every inch of me is screaming. Do you know what its like to have a 22 month old who dumps all her blocks off of the little wooden wagon, Hercules rips off the string to pull it and then uses it for a skate board? Exhausting. It is exhausting. This kid never stops. Do not get me wrong. I am lucky. I have a healthy, well developed, smart child with a love of life and fun. It is awesome. It is also exhausting. Not only does she never stop, neither does her mouth. "Mama Show. Mama shoes, out. Mama in. Mama snack. Mama Doc. Mama yes, no, yes, no, yes, no. Apple. You ok? Shhhhh. Okay. Mama no, where mommy?" Okay kid. I get it. You know what you want and you aren't afraid to make it known. Got it. But mama woke up today sad. Mama does not want to watch Doc McStuffins for the 150th time, because if Mama hears the Time for your checkup song one more time, Mama is going to want to run at 60 MPH into a brick wall. Because when your fighting to just be functioning excessively cheerful kids shows DO NOT in fact make that better. Oh, and outside. Yeah. When you are in the throes of a depression episode, the last thing you generally like is nature. Let alone playing in a sandbox, and then immediately going to blowing bubbles and lets not forget playing drag baby girl around the yard in her pool because she loves it and you love her,  but you don't want to even be out here let alone running in a circle. No baby girl, Mama is feeding you lunch, but on a normal depression episode day she wouldn't be eating so please don't shove that cheese stick in her mouth, please don't no, no and now I am eating a cheese stick. Yay. Okay, lets get baby girl down for a nap. No? No napping today, okay I get it napping is even more evil then diaper changes for which I have had to chase you around in a circle each time today to successfully complete. Awesome. Knock knock, oh good I was wondering when you would get here anxiety. I need to step up my game here. I know. I am going to mess her up for good. I have been trying to make it seem like I am having the time of my life here, I am laughing and playing and running. Oh my God, my 22 month old can see through me. She knows I am sad. Is she going to think she is the reason? I never want her to think she is the reason. I am such a horrible mother. I am a horrible wife. Oh no, I know I made sure she ate a good breakfast, but was it really a good breakfast? I am feeling depressed, I wouldn't normally really eat. Did I let that effect what I thought was a good breakfast? She had cereal and half a thing of yogurt, a peach, water. She had milk when she woke up. She had the rest of her peach and yogurt for a mid morning snack. She had mac and cheese, blue berries for lunch. Am I starving her? NO I think that was good. Okay, so we played outside for a little this morning, then we came in, we did the dishwasher and danced in the kitchen, and then we played chase while I picked up the living room. I will try to get her down after lunch. But am I forcing her down. Does she not want to sleep and I am letting my sickness dictate her napping. I know she has to nap, shes a toddler, but I really can't let my mood effect her sleep schedule. No she is definitely not ready to nap. Okay. Back outside. We will play bubbles, and push her in her car. Oh, there she goes out front catch her, but don't stifle her explorations. God, I am being a horribly clingy mom. Oh no, I can't handle, she is heading for the hill, no I hate out front. Time to go out back. Okay. Was that wrong. Did I force her out back because I am too depressed and full of anxiety to let her be herself out front. I have to make sure my dysfunction isn't effecting her. Time to really make sure she knows I am having fun. Okay. its been about an hour, time to go in and try another nap. Okay. Lets watch a show. Yup a show. Okay, no. 2 episodes later, no nap. At least she rested. Okay. Let's vacuum and do dinner baby. Yup, we will dance as we do it. No I do not want to dance. Can we just lay down and obsess over all the ways I can be sad yet? No. Okay. Do you think she knows I thought that. I am being a bad mom again. It is going to leak out and effect her and that is not fair to her. Okay. Dinner is in the oven. Dishwasher is unloaded and reloaded and running AGAIN. I hate this appliance. Okay, back out. Yeah. A third time outside and no nap. AWESOME. I hate this so much. Whoo hoo slide baby. Yup, mama chase you. Where the hell is my wife. Its not her fault you are depressed today. Take it down a notch. You can't let it effect her either. You need to relax. Focus on your daughter. Okay your wife is pulling in. Yup, Mommy is home. Go give her hug. Okay what needs to happen tonight.

So it goes. Inevitably you will pick a fight with your spouse. Which will increase your anxiety, and not help your depression. Bonus, your mind is moving so fast from one thought to another that you won't really get to sleep easily. Once you do though, the depression will take over from the anxiety and you will sleep the sleep of the dead and not want to wake up. Usually it isn't just a one day sojourn either. Depression episodes last a little while, often with anxiety going hand in hand. Besties - isn't it sweet. So to other Stay at home parents out there suffering from depression and anxiety you aren't imaging the extreme and utter suckiness that we are stuck with. Because your kid(s) is/are the best things in your life and you know it, but sometimes, you have to force the behavior whether or not that feeling is there.

Relax. Take it easy on yourself. You love them, you would do anything for them and sometimes the disease that turns your entire life upside down wants to take that away from you. It won't. Because you are a survivor. You have made it through this disease to have a life and a spouse and kids - which makes you damn strong. So keep opening your eyes everyday and making it about that kid. Its important for them and for you. Because there is NOTHING in your life before them that could have gotten you out of bed on a day like today. That is powerful. That is important. That is lifesaving. And know - you are NOT alone. I am here. There are many others. We are all survivors, we all get your pain. We root for you everyday. Just know whether you get out of bed today, or just sit up - I am proud of you. I know it is scary to just wake up some days, and you did it. The episode will eventually end. You won't have to pretend to have fun chasing your kids around and dancing. You will have fun. You will treasure it in a way that parents who don't suffer from depression will never understand. I do. So here is your medal. Whether your ready for it or not.

Until next time.

Craziest thing...

Hey all. So yesterday, the craziest thing happened. It was a weird day, Riley had slept only a few hours the night before. Amy had to catch sleep in the guest room since she had work, and I spent the night alternating between begging Riley to sleep and trying to command her to. (Sidenote...neither works...). She was cranky as all hell in the morning and took an early nap. My parents called, mom who has been knocked out of commission with Shingles was all clear to come see Ri. Sure, come on up. So Pops and Mamacita came up, Riley was ecstatic. Now my day is already off schedule and I still need to shop and pick Amy up early. So we go through Target, and I literally have to turn and burn. No problem. I will leave the car and Ri home with the 'rents and use their car to pick up Amy. Great. I hope on their car and take off. Barely even ten minutes into the drive a red sedan comes flying around a curve on the opposite side of the road, pointing towards me. I can't even really tell you what happened. I know that I went oh f**k he is going to fast. I slammed on my brakes and instinctively pulled to the side of the road as he flipped his car in front of me, sliding off the road on the roof of the car into a front yard. I saw the person behind me swerve left as I swerved right and he barely missed me and was breaths within of this sliding car, which if I had been even 20 seconds earlier would have taken me out with him.
I don't know how I knew the car was going to lose control. I can't think, looking back, of anything that told me...no bobbles, no swerving. Just and inherent sense that it was too fast, and to stop and avoid. Now, being involved with the volunteer  fire department as long as I was, first as an explorer, then as a fire fighter, instinct took over immediately. I ran to car, seeing the neighbor of the yard he lay in already on the phone. As I dropped to my knees beside the car I took in so many things at once. The car was still running. There was a gentle smoke starting. The car was almost flat. The windshields, both front and back had smashed out, flying away from the car in their respective opposite directions. Debris was littering the ground in a circle around the car, probably about a mile each way. There was an acrid smell to the smoke. I circled the car, not seeing anyone in or thrown out of the car other then the driver. As I circled back to the road, I dropped to my knees calling to him, sir are you ok. This is a long run on sentence paragraph so you would think it took forever. It had to have been no more then a minute by the time I dropped beside him.
I saw some bad sights my years as a volunteer firefighter. Nothing I ever saw compared to or prepared me for looking into that car. I think that as a firefighter, you pull up you have your gear, you have a sense of what you are walking into from dispatch and you have a job to do. You are there to fix the problem, you have the know-how and tools to do so and that's just it. As my father a long standing Volunteer firefighter, an officer up to and including chief over his time has always said...if you are doing your job on the scene, you don't really have time to see the victim(s). Here I had no job. I was just trying to figure out if I could help.  As I dropped down, calling out to him, I saw that the car was as flat as it appeared. He was hunched over, as the car was pushing him down almost into a 90 degree angle, but not quite. His head was at an impossible angle. He had a seatbelt on that was holding him in enough it was probably saving him from breaking his neck. I smelled a sweet, slightly Metallic (almost like that smell if you clutch coins in your hand on a hot day) smell that is unmistakeable if you have ever been exposed to the scent before...blood. A lot of blood. I got lower as I heard him moan and saw (*ATTENTION GRAPHIC*) a huge chunk of skin just hanging from his left arm and blood just pouring out of it. His face was called in blood. His right arm must have flown up at some point , it was across his body and the hand was pinned underneath the door jam. The woman on the phone ran up yelling for them to hurry damnit. I started firing information at her to tell them rapidly and she looked at me and just held her phone out. I said hello and told the dispatcher what I had. She figured out quickly I had some kind of experience. She asked how dire the situation was frankly at that point. I said to her quite plainly, he is losing blood quickly and in a big quantity. Get em here. The woman looked at me I am a home health aide and we need to apply pressure and she ran back to her house. I noticed he was quiet and yelled out buddy you there.
Keep him talking from the dispatcher.
Duh.
Yes. He groaned. What's your name bud. Steve. How old are you Steve. A fainter groan. You gotta stay awake Steve. How old. 42. What year is it. Pause. What year Steve.....STEVE. 2017. To dispatch as the home health aide ran up joining me next to the car and wrapping the towel around his arm. Another neighbor ran up, I gave her the phone, dropping back down. Pressure I said to her. Hard. Steve who is President. No response. The lingering smoke was getting less white, more grey...bad. STEVE WHO IS PRESIDENT. f**king Trump the response through clenched teeth as I got further down trying to see if I could get to the ignition...no go. I put my hand in the car, no go, but pulled it out ant saw that the car was leaking fluids. Not good. Can't get it off I said to some guy on the scene. Him and another guy looked at the car circling it, and I don't know what they did, but it turned off and as I shifted to say thanks I looked down. I realized that the fingers popping out of our side of the car didn't match up to where I saw his hand was under the jam. I looked at the woman who now had the phone, hearing a siren in the background. Steve was now yelling incomprehensibly, with pain laced so strongly through his voice that I knew whatever adrenaline had him answering me before was gone. Quietly I said tell dispatch that his right fingers are amputated.
From there, officials took over. I told what I knew and had to continue on to pick up Amy, now running late. We continued on with our Thursday. Even our Friday. But I wonder what happened. I hope he is ok. I heard his screams last night in my sleep. I can't shake it. Today I am sitting here and am blogging this hoping that I get the screams out of my head. I hope that I can get the smell out of my nose and I want to close my eyes and not see those mismatching fingers and hand placement perfectly.
Mostly I am confused. I have been to fires, I have been to accidents. Am I that out of practice? Was it different because anything that had happened to make me even 20 seconds earlier would have put me from a bystander to a victim myself? Is it sticking because I am a parent now? Is it because I have never seen it not in an official capacity before?
I don't know. But I know I am grateful I was so off schedule yesterday. I hope that between me and the others who weren't scared to stop and help and try that he is alive. I hope it will stop haunting me. Mostly, I hope Steve lives today, tomorrow, and for a long time. Thanks for listening.
Until next time.

Introduction to my strange and secret passion....

Blogging is something I want to do regularly and often fall behind in - I mean, a lot. Why?? Because I worry too much about putting out there what I feel people may want to read, or that I feel I should due to the current terrifying climate of the world. I am scared to write anything that my family or friends might take offense to or be embarrassed by me. Why is that a problem - why does it make me just stop writing instead of giving into what I think people want from me? Because when you don't write about what you want to write about, what you care about, your writing suffers. You may technically still write properly, it may even be good - but it will be missing a spark - a fire. Without that, writing is nothing but lackluster. The most flawless, perfect technical writing can fall flat if there is nothing sparking the subject matter. Also, if you feel like you are forcing it, you won't write - as evidenced by myself and my blog. So here is my wholehearted attempt to return to my roots and what I like.
So I admit it may be strange, but my secret passion/obsession is cold cases/historic cases. Not in some creepy, psychotic killer re-enactment way. I am obsessed with trying to solve the puzzles, or studying the facts and the results of a case. Am I egotistical and blind to the truth enough to think that I can see something others missed, or solve crimes from my home office when trained professionals couldn't - NO, not at all. I do, however, think that I can totally give a case an open-minded, objective and "woman of the people" look and analysis. So, why do I have this desire to learn about cases - whether just historically significant or long wondered about cold cases? Honestly -  and a bit sadly - I think that a large part of it is from growing up in the 1980's and 90's.
During this time period, there seems to have been A LOT of cases in the news there were baffling, terrifying and many of which remain unsolved to this day. Of course, though, when you have that interest sparked in you, you start looking back into history. So far warning, that is what is going to be dominating my blog-space for awhile. Please, keep in mind (if anyone is still reading this rambling) that I am a trained Paralegal, and have my degree in History and English. Why am I mentioning this? Because literally EVERYTHING I have studied and prepared for in my life has trained me to excel in 1 thing - researching. I am a multi-trained researcher, and I don't half-ass it. I immerse in my subject, and look at everything with an eye and mind trained to observe and pick apart. I in fact often find myself approaching life in that way. I will be presenting my cases, research and conclusions as that trained researcher. This will interest me and people like me. I hope it puts the spark back into my writing that and if so I hope that spark will draw in people who don't normally care about this. Either way - sit back and try to enjoy. I will be starting with the most notorious case of the 1990's, the one that sparked this all in me. A case many people forget is actually a cold case. The 1994 double murder of Nicole Brown-Simpson and Ronald Goldman.
Until next time.