So this is my shame. I have struggled with depression a few times in my life and I feel like it is time to talk.
I share not because I desire to air my dirty laundry. Far from it. I often feel convicted that I am too private a person, unwilling to share my weaknesses, full of pride. It makes we want to hide under a rock in many ways. But I feel a conviction that as believers in Jesus, we must not be silent about an epidemic of depression that pervades our culture. Indeed, I would say the bride of Christ in North America has not been spared in this (whether we talk about it or not).
My first run in with depression crept up on me as a teenager, probably around age 13. Perhaps it began a bit before that, but in my 36 year old memory, there are some deficits. It lasted until around age 17 at varying degrees; peaked at age 14. All of this was kept between myself and a dearly close friend. I did not have a relationship with God during this time; I was purposeful in my rejection of Him, in fact.
Through my twenties, I had times when I felt like the dark hand was creeping back over my head, but by the Lord's tender mercies and amazing grace, it never developed into a clinical case of depression.
I met Deereandy, was married and within the next year we were expecting. We also made a big move. So on the scale of life stress - that is a lot for two years. Marriage, moving twice and baby (does immigration make a fourth stressor?). Big adjustments. There was much joy in all these things and in most of these days as well!
But there was also a fair amount of grieving that went on on my part. Women grieve every detail you know. Every moment she will miss of her nieces and nephew growing up, every sunset over the bay she won't witness, the smells of dampened pine needles, the missed holidays with family, the family dinners, the career she is leaving, losing a title of an OCN nurse, the mountain drives, the hills of Yakima, sage brush and the lush grass of childhood home, the friendships... I won't go over every detail (They have raced and chased around my head for years now).
That said, grief settles, it can bring fresh tears years later, but it settles into a less acute pain and the ever present cloud dissipates from view.
In August of 2007, we welcomed our beautiful, tiny elf into the world, Chirpee. Never had I felt my heart expand at such speed and with such fullness! An amazing time and event! After the emotional struggles that pregnancy brings (the ever shifting moods and temperaments); it was an oasis of joy.
Fast forward to my discharge from the hospital four days later and I was beside myself with tears and grief over breastfeeding difficulty with Chirpee. "I can't feed my baby!" I cried out to Deereandy. Such hopelessness had begun to descend on me.
The next few weeks brought about sharp anxiety and feelings of inadequacy, guilt, hopelessness and fears. Things seemed to improve after a few months and I was beginning to have a routine with Chirpee and enjoy him ever more.
I weaned Chirpee at 13 months and realized I felt better than I had in so long. I didn't realize I still had a bit of depression hanging on me through our breastfeeding days.
Fast forward to pregnancy number three (miscarriage in between). I won't go into the pregnancy saga, but apart from numerous physical complaints, there was an ever worsening mind to go along with it. At the time, I felt I was experiencing a little more emotional lability, anxiety and fears than with Chirpee's pregnancy.
The despair was with me daily as I struggled over each moment of every day during Dimple's pregnancy. At least that is my perspective now. In my heart I struggled over trusting the Lord with caring for me. I felt like I was experiencing a punishment of sorts and the wonder of growing a life in me often seemed out of my reach. I had moments when I pushed my face to remember this miracle and attempt to pull my head up over my aggravating symptoms and complaints that were ever present with me.
My heart did not sing. Paul and Silas sung in prison, but this weak woman was more like a sulking, pouting child. Paul and Silas sang in the midst of facing completely unknown circumstances, they were in stocks. I was in a blessed place, waiting to receive a blessed face and drowning in my self pity.
Fast forward again, Dimple is born into my arms in the wee hours of a snowy morning. Blessed relief and the miracle once again! I was delighted at the ease with which he seemed to latch on and the comfort he obviously had from being close to me.
Within 24 hours I felt like a hand engulfed my head and popped me right under the surface of a bottomless sea. A darkness, black, rolled over my head and down my body. It was as if I could feel it cooling over me. I even remember exactly where I was sitting when it hit me.
I knew it was back, I knew I was drowning, but hopeful that it would pass as quickly as the time did with Chirpee. I kept doing the next thing, putting one foot in front of the other, feed baby, shower, eat, read, pray, etc.. But it only got worse.
And then better...and then worse...and then easing...back down....up a little. This was the first time I experienced a real roller coaster of depression instead of a wave that would crest then recede.
This continued on for the next year and a half. I didn't enjoy life, I was detached from my children in a myriad of ways, I had a lot of weeping episodes, despair, heaps of guilt over what a terrible mother and wife I was, extremely irritable, insomnia began to haunt me, extreme fatigue became the constant companion, restless legs and I knew my mind was not clear.
I wanted help, I begged, prayed, pleaded for deliverance. But things kept getting worse. My body couldn't take it anymore (my guess) and I spent a few of my nights of insomnia trying to reason out why my sympathetic nervous system was stimulated. At night I would get heat running from my head to my toes, racing heart, elevated blood pressure along with my restless extremities, chest tightness, shortness of breath. I tried to doctor myself as well as I knew.
Scheduled in with my doctor, I was feeling hopeful after leaving her office. She cared, was going to find the source of my problems. Leaving with prescriptions for inhalers and referals for blood work and other diagnostic studies; Deereandy and I went to dinner together before returning home.
Things were finally looking up for me, my distressing physical symptoms were being investigated and I knew the Lord was over all things and caring for me...then snap! My too tired body must have been full of misfirings because it chose my calmest moments in weeks to flower into a grandiose panic attack that led us to the emergency room.
I was nearly passed out, paralyzed in the seat next to my husband as my heart reared up racing and flipping inside my chest. My mind remained calm. There was no fear in death for me as I knew my eternity would only bring the blessed presence of Jesus. I didn't fear for my children or husband losing me because I knew the Lord loved and cared for them more than I could ever. My body was in chaos, but my mind was at complete peace.
The staff at the hospital removed me from the car and brought me inside. I was completely embarrassed as they confirmed I had a panic attack. I began wishing I had had a cardiac event; that I wasn't crazy.
My body was on the verge of panic attacks the following two months. I was started on medication for depression/panic attacks the day following the ER visit. I have not had a full blown one since that day in June of 2011. In fact, the two weeks following the attack I carried a bag with me everywhere in case I hyperventilated. And even up to today there are times when I feel one coming on.
I was broken that day. My body was out of my control, I couldn't even think about my responsibilities without my adrenals working up another panic attack for days after. The thought of laundry threatened to push me over the edge. I went home and began to function on a rather dressed down level.
Simple meals, read books with the kids, do some laundry, light clean up, take a nap, go to bed as soon as possible. I also was started on something for sleep at that same time. The first blessed nights of sleep I had had in years!
I was forced to repriotize. Leave my kitchen a mess, let things pile up, leave the toys out if it means not getting to bed at a healthy time. My job became healing so I could take care of my boys again.
So the intervening time has seen me stablilize after a longer time than I had planned. In August this year I was feeling top notch. Still have residual fatigue, but such a vast improvement.
And of course, since I felt so much better I figured, maybe I'm done and healed enough to go off this medication...
So beginning in September I began to wean myself very slowly off of it. This resulted in a gradual relapse from weaning and am now back on my SSRI medication. My irritability, restlessness, insomnia and poor thinking crept back in. A couple nights ago I was still dealing with feelings of bugs crawling under my skin.
So easy to be discouraged, but I know that isn't what the Lord has planned for me. This will have a second installment as to my processings over depression and its physical, emotional and spiritual nature.
Depression is more than a physical or mental battle - it has a spiritual component as well that has to be addressed.
3 comments:
I was brought to tears by this post. It is so true that this is something that is all too often kept a secret or just not talked about. It was so SO comforting to me to read about your trials. I have been experiencing a bit of it during this pregnancy and for some reason reading about your struggles really helped me. Praying Jaime!
May the Lord give you much wisdom as you deal with this issue in your life. I know very little of what you have gone through EXCEPT that when I was going through a miscarriage many years ago, I had seemingly unexplainable feelings of foreboding and the only panic attack that I ever experienced, so I know that fluctuating hormones are one cause of very disturbing thoughts and feelings. I appreciate your attitude in all this. Blessings to you and yours! ~Twila from WI (you know, that one :))
Jaime - this brought back a LOT of memories of similar times in my life. The panic attacks are so frightening. The post partum depression at a time when normally one should be full of life and so happy about a new baby is so terribly frustrating and difficult. But, as you know, God walks with us, just like He did with Adam and Eve, but not only in the cool of the day, but all through the hard times and the heat of the day. Holding onto that means more than anything else. However, allowing medication to help you can be such a good start back to normalcy as you have also found. I remember trying to cut the dosage back too soon, though. It was a mistake. I will actually not ever likely go off my meds. I have changed them several times, but I won't risk my relationships with those I love . That's where the rubber hits the road for me. I tell you this just to encourage you to cut yourself some slack Jaime. You've done a very good job of explaining what depression is like and what you have done about it. I hope you get more healing as time goes on. God bless you and your little family.
With His love!
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