I wanted to take a few minutes to share something very RAW. Something that once I put out – I cannot take back. Something that I am only sharing in attempt to maybe help one person and not to “hide all of my ugly”.
Let me start out like this… Hi, My name is Kristen. I am a 32 year old wife of 10 years, a mother of 3, a full time nurse, a cheerleader on the sidelines and ball fields, a Rodan and Fields Consultant, Room-mom, a friend who will offer you the shirt off my back if you needed it, a lover of wine and coffee, a sports fanatic, a dancer, a joker, a lover of laughter….but when nobody is looking – I am broken. I am a crier due to depression. I am a girl who curls up in tears with chest pain due to anxiety. I am a girl who has to fight to get out of bed some days. A girl who has physically hurt myself; has wished to no longer live; given up on everything; and a girl who has fooled everyone – well – because “what would they think?”.
I am a 32 year old wife and mother of three kids, a full time nurse, a cheerleader and friend – with clinically diagnosed PTSD, Anxiety and Depression.
Living with these diseases are dreadful. I’ve suffered for years – but really really struggled the past 7 years. You see, in 2010, I gave birth to a gorgeous baby girl. A sick baby girl. She did not sleep, required a lot of medical attention and I was a new mom who had NO idea what I was doing. I had post-partum depression. Not very unexpected given my relationship with depression for years. I didn’t seek help or treatment until after she turned 1. So, for one year, I struggled with bonding, with loving and cherishing those moments I hear so many first time moms rant and rave about.
Let’s fast forward 7 years – I will spare you 7 years of details of my depression, my on and off again experiences with meds, therapy, my valleys and failures.
Here we are now. I am 2 years into therapy and a love/hate – on again and off again experiences with medications. The therapy I only sought because one night, 2 years ago (and several times in between) I looked at my husband and told him I no longer wanted to live. I felt I was only making my kids lives worse. I felt like a bitch. I felt like a failure. I felt like a horrible person that people had to force themselves to “tolerate”. I felt my marriage was failing and couldn’t even understand how I had a husband. I wanted my life to end. There were moments where my husband told me I was scaring him. There were moments he told me he should take me into the hospital. There were days he worried going to work, wondering what he was going to come home to.
I’m thankful I know myself well enough to know when I need to get help. But, not everyone does. Not everyone can. I am thankful that I am self aware. I’m thankful that on really bad days when bad thoughts and “what-ifs” cloud my mind – there is some sort of ‘something’ still deep within me that says “don’t give up, not yet…”.
People often say that suicide is selfish. I’m here to tell you – it’s not. I can promise you that in those moments – before that final act is made, the ONLY thing that runs through one’s mind is their family, their friends, their responsibilities. In those moments, in OUR depression – we firmly believe who we are and what we have to offer isn’t enough and all would be better without us.
The past 9 months, I’ve been struggling SIGNIFICANTLY due to personal issues I’ve not expressed to most. I’m exhausted and drained. I pour myself into my job, my kids, taking care of other people, so that I can avoid taking care of myself. It is easier to take care of others. BUT, I expose this in light of this month. This month of May is Mental Health Month. I expose this in light of nearly 10 MILLION AMERICANS including myself, who suffer from a serious mental illness. I expose this in light of the 60% of adults and the 50% of kids/adolescents who DO NOT get treatment or help due to the lack of awareness, lack of support and giant stigma associated with these illnesses.
We should not have to find ourselves in the Emergency Rooms, prisons, on the streets or in coffins. We should find ourselves in the arms of friends and family.
We don’t expect someone who doesn’t suffer from Anxiety, PTSD, Depression or so many others to UNDERSTAND. You never will. But, we don’t expect to be told “snap out of it”, “Get over it”, “you’re selfish”, or “quit feeling sorry for yourself”.
Not just this month, but every month – Don’t be afraid to speak up. Don’t be afraid to ask for help. Don’t be afraid.
Not just this month, but every month – Don’t be afraid to reach out to a friend who seems “down”. Don’t be afraid to give a compliment to a stranger, to be kind. Don’t be afraid to offer help. Don’t be afraid.
Fill up your tanks – Fill up each other’s tanks. Be kind to EVERYONE, chose your words carefully as you will NEVER know or understand the battle or journey another person is on.
National Suicide Prevention Line (800) – 273 – 8255