Depression Hurts: The Current Situation.

I am pretty sure that I have been fighting this 'episode' for quite some time now.  I think it started when I found out I was pregnant.  My life (my families life) had been going really well.  We were finally in a good spot in our lives and had been for some time.  My daycare was doing incredibly well.  I had a great bunch of kids that I loved and their parents as well.  My husband had been working at his job, which was a new career path, and was extremely successful at it.  Things were good and we were comfortable. 

I had a family decide to leave because I would not lower my rates, which were already quite low. *I charge $120 a week for full-time care and $150 for full-time infant care.  I was charging this family less than my normal rates and also watched their child the later than anyone else.  I had always worked with them on hours and rates to help them out in difficult times, but they decided to leave after all these years because I wouldn't go lower.  I was angry, to say the least.  I was angry that they could just leave like that as our kids were very close and had formed a great bond and because I had done so much for them.  I was more angry with myself for being too nice and feeling like I let people take advantage of me. 

Then I had another family leave after 4-years because the Mom hated her job and decided to stay home with her kids.  I was angry because she kept going back-and-forth on her decision and dragging me along for the ride, because after 4 years of caring all I got was a little $5 plant picked up at the grocery store as a last-minute thought as a "thank-you", and I was angry because I couldn't afford to stay at home with my kids like she could.

Then I had another family leave because they wanted to put their child in preschool and I had watched him since he was a baby.  I don't like preschool and don't think most kids need to go, but that is a different topic for a different day.  So again, I was angry and hurt.

Then I had another family leave because they lost their home, and another because they were getting divorced and another because they were laid-off.  I was down to two families and one of those was planning on leaving when they sold their house.

These were a lot of blows to take, one right after the other, and I was having a hard time standing back up.  I felt angry and resentful.  I was mostly angry at myself because I felt like I put so much time and effort and love into my job and got nothing back.  All these families just left.  No thank-yous, no going away gift, no card, no nothing.  (One kind family did give me and my kids a going away gift and an extra weeks pay as a way to say thank you).  I bend over backwards in my daycare to help families out.  I never charged late-fee's when I should have, or overtime fee's when I should have, or demanded more prompt pick-up and drop-off times when I should have.  I worked when I was sick, when my own kids were sick and so on.  My ego took a huge blow because everyone was leaving and seeming not to care and I figured that meant I was someone unimportant in their child's life and that I had done a horrible job caring for their kids.

I found out I was pregnant in the middle of this and I couldn't help but wonder if some of these families left because they didn't want to deal with having to find alternate care after I had my babies.  One of my daycare parents actually came out and told me that she didn't want to waste her time-off when I had to take time off after having the babies because she wanted to take her normal July vacation and this was putting a kink in things.  Did I mention this was also one of my closest friends and that I was only planning on taking two-weeks off from daycare?

As my kids dwindled in numbers, my husbands job was eliminated because of the economy.  (He still hasn't found a new job)

I have always loved being pregnant, always.  I used to say I would be pregnant all the time if I could.  (without having more kids of my own).  I would be a surrogate because I loved being pregnant so much.  We weren't supposed to be able to get pregnant again though.  I had to have help to get pregnant with my second baby and was told I most likely got pregnant with my first only because I was on birth-control pills at the time and they stimulated ovulation when I missed a few.  I don't ovulate on my own and after 5-years of unprotected sex, I never imagined I would get pregnant.  I should have known better though.  So here we were pregnant with less income and then pregnant with twins with even less income and then pregnant with twins and my husband has his job eliminated.  Yay!

Instead of enjoying my pregnancy I spent it being worried and full of guilt.  I knew having these babies was going to put a stress on our lives and also leave a huge financial burden on us.  I contemplated not having them and then felt guilty for thinking that. I felt I didn't deserve them because I wasn't excited enough.  I felt guilty for not being excited.  I felt guilty for putting more financial stress on our family.  I felt guilty for disrupting M&M's lives.  I felt guilty for losing daycare business.  I felt I was solely responsible for ruining my families lives.  I was also certain that certain people were shaking their fingers at us and saying how stupid we were.  Yes, one of us should have gotten fixed because I know doctors aren't always right, but we didn't. 

I am pretty sure that is when I began to sink.

I ended up with preterm labor, pre-eclampsia, horribly sick with no voice and delivered at 33-weeks.  My babes ended up in the NICU despite all my hopes that they would emerge as super-babies requiring no NICU care.  I had a horrific time dealing with the situation of the babes being in the NICU, M&M being without their Mama and Papa and having their Christmas turned upside-down.  I cried a lot and then I cried some more, and then some more and then a whole lot more.  Despite all my crying and my husband being worried about me because I previous bout of PPD, I didn't want to die.  I just wanted some semblance or normalcy.

We still have no jobs and little income.  We do have ginormous medical bills, creditors calling all day long, a few summons for court, a horrifically dirty house and a lovely foreclosure notice.  We just filed for bankruptcy, filed for an extension on our foreclosure and I got an interview for Starbucks.  I feel ashamed, embarrassed and like I am a huge disappointment to those around me and to myself.  Some people have been amazing to us, friends families and strangers and others have only contributed to the shame and guilt I feel.

I am still sinking.

I tried to explain to my husband that I feel like I am drowning.  Some days I can make a little headway and swim towards the shore for safety, but I usually only last a few hours or a day at the most.  Some days I can tread water....I don't sink, but I don't make any progress towards the shore either.  Then some days I sink and all I can do is come up for gasps of air and sink right back down into the murky, cold water that surrounds me.  I started writing this morning because the bad days are starting outnumber the good days and a vast majority of the time I just want to sink to the bottom and stay there.  I don't want to struggle or fight to get to the surface.  I am cold, tired, sad, consumed by horrible thoughts, and seem no closer to shore than I was a year ago. 

All analogies aside, things are bad and I don't know what to do.  I walk around like a zombie and don't care much about anything.  I can't think.  I literally can't seem to focus and think and plan and do.  I get a little bit of energy and think I can do something, like clean off the table, but when I get to the table I am overwhelmed and can't figure out where to start, so I just go sit back down.  My house is a disaster and has been for quite some time.  I am so completely embarrassed by it that I will not let anyone into my house.  A few people have managed to get inside my front door, but not without me wanting to run and hide my face in shame.  I want to ask for help, but it is hard to do when you don't want anybody to see your disgusting mess.  I think I know how hoarders become hoarders, it is because you eventually just give up.  And now that I know we might lose our house I don't want to put any effort into making it look better.  They say your house is a reflection of you and they are so right.  My house, my yard, my car.....it is all overflowing chaos.  I manage to be able to shower and dress only when I have to (like today for another interview at Starbucks) or when I can't stand the smell of myself.  I just want to run and hide from it all, close my eyes and hope that when I open them everything will be back to normal.  I want my old life back, and when I think that, it makes me feel even worse because my old life didn't include the babes.  I want them, I do, and I love them to pieces, but I want things to be normal again.

I want to hide from the intrusive thoughts that I have.  Actually, they are more like intrusive visions.  I don't think to myself, "gee, I want to die today.  I think I will go draw a bath and grab a sharp knife, get in the tub a slit my wrists".  No, it is more that I have flashes of scenes of being dead in varying scenarios, like frames from a movie.

I have healthy ways of dealing with stress and depression and I also have unhealthy ways.  My healthy ways are affirmations, meditation, going for walks, sleep and making lists of all the things I am grateful for.  These things alone and sometimes in combination usually work great.  A good sleep or nap really helps me reboot and start fresh when I wake up.  Then there are the habits that emerge when things are starting to get bad.  I don't want to divulge what they are, but they are here.  I could postulate on the reasons behind these unhealthy things that I do, but I don't want to go all psycho-babble on you and I am fairly certain I know why.  I believe they give me back some sort of control in my life and also gives me something else to focus on for a while.

I focus on my girls right now to be able to keep going, but not because I think they need me.  It is because I am being selfish in wanting to be around to see what kind of people they will grow up to be.  Most of the time I think they would be better off without me.  I am not doing them any good right now.  I sit around in my haze instead of being a mother and bringing them to a park, having movie night and game nights, instead of baking treats and painting little toenails.  What good is a Mom that can't engage?

I am supposed to be strong.  I am supposed to be a fighter.  That is what people have always told me.  I don't feel so strong these days and I don't feel like fighting anymore.  I am afraid I have used up all my fight.  I've gone too many rounds and I am tired.  My hope isn't all gone yet.  I hope everyday that the next day will be better, that if I can just make it through the day I will wake up a little stronger.  I keep doing this day after day, hoping the next day will be better, but it hasn't happened yet.  "Just one more day, it is just 24 hours you have to make it through, one more night of sleep and maybe tomorrow you will find yourself again" is what I tell myself.  I hope that I do, I hope things get better, I hope that the economy gets better, I hope my Mom will find a job and be able to save her sanity and house, I hope my kids will forgive me for being such a crappy Mom right now, I hope my husband will get a good-paying job, I hope that I can continue to have hope.