Winter BLAHs

I am not a fan of winter. I am not a fan of snow. I am not a fan of dark and gloomy days. I am not a fan of cold. It's bad here too because when the inversion hits, everything is foggy and smoggy, and you can't even hardly see the mountains.

In the winter is when I feel depression tugging a little harder and hanging on a little longer than at other times. It often starts before Thanksgiving and I start to get this feeling that I want to crawl into bed, cover up and not come out until Spring. One lady accused me of having no Christmas Spirit. It's not that. I love the holidays -- the true meaning of the holidays, anyway. I love spending time with family when they come. But it's just the gloomy feeling of... I dunno... everything.

I made it through Christmas and the kids and I enjoyed it. I forced myself to get the tree up and decorated. One of these days, I will force myself to take it down. But in my defense, today - January 6th - is the day of the Epiphany. So, technically, in old Christian traditions your tree is supposed to stay up through today anyway. Regardless, I am going to try really hard to take it down before March... which is what happened a few years ago, haha.

I am a believer that I am in charge of my own attitude. I can get up and choose whether to be happy or not be happy. I am the one who chooses my reaction or pro-activeness to the events that will take place today. And, for the most part, I'd say I am pretty good about staying upbeat and positive. But that doesn't mean I still don't have this... feeling.

I can't really put it into complete words. And I know that men especially have a hard time understanding. Whenever I try to talk it out with a guy he doesn't really "get" it and usually tries to give me advice to FIX it. (Why can't men just listen and then comfort without trying to FIX it?) But like yesterday for example, it was a great day. I had fundings and closings and new orders at work. I went to lunch with a great group of people. I ate the best salad and made the best cinnamon rolls. I checked online and saw that all of my financial aid paperwork was finalized for the semester. I had a relaxing evening. And yet, there was this lump in my throat all day. The lump that forms when you are on the verge of tears. That lump. I have that on most days when I feel like this. And yet it isn't like there is any one thing that is making me want to cry. And usually, I avoid people when I get like this, to minimize any trigger for tears.

I don't like people to feel sorry for me -- so please do not leave the "I'm sorry you're feeling that way" comment. I just blog about it, because perhaps it helps me make more sense of it in some way. I don't take medication for it because I don't feel it is severe enough and I am not a good pill swallower. Having to swallow pills makes me have anxiety, haha. But I do what my counselor has referred to as "talk therapy" and I find it helps. I guess that is more of what this is, "talk therapy" by way of "blog therapy". I know I must be rambling... and this may or may not make sense.

Anyway -- back in "the day" when I was married had a good job and 2+ incomes, I often shopped. People joke about "retail therapy", but it's a real thing. When I'd feel down, finding something on sale was a quick pick-me-up. Often times, the purchased items weren't even for me. Nonetheless, I felt better. Well, that's not an option anymore. So, I am back to the "talk therapy". I don't like talking too much about it, because again, I don't want the pity. Also, I don't like being a Negative Nelly and feel like I'm whining or something. I tend to keep it in if it isn't funny or positive or upbeat.

I am hoping that once school starts up on Monday I will be too busy to be fully aware of this gloomy feeling hanging around my head and my heart.

Anyway -- so that is why I haven't been "around" the blogosphere lately. Just don't really feel like doing much of anything... just feel like staying in bed, all day with my jammies on.

It's a good thing I need the money, or I'd probably be ditching work. haha.

Anyway, that's it. The end.

Comment-Turned-Post: Depression

A few weeks ago, RhondaLue blogged about depression. I left her a far-too-lengthy comment; most of which ended up being this post.
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People say that suicide is "selfish". And I am sure there are cases in which that might be true...

**BUT** I will say that I believe that there are many cases in which the entire reason someone has chosen to take their own life is because they were severely depressed and just not in their right mind. In my heart of hearts, I **personally** believe that God knows their hearts and that they will be judged accordingly, for He is a loving God.

Once I went through "post-partum depression". It wasn't severe, thank goodness. Just crying for no reason, feeling "blue", feeling exhausted all the time, not wanting to talk to anyone or do anything, etc. There are triggers for people who are predisposed to depression. I didn't know back then -- but I do now. Fast forward about a year after the post-partum...

Some things had happened that seemed to cut me right to the core. I felt overwhelmed, incompetent, a failure. This incident, I believe, triggered my depression. Not post-partum -- this time was different. Way different. I am ashamed to admit the way I mentally "checked out" and left my kids to sometimes "Fend for themselves" at such young ages. It was all I could do some days to get up out of bed and shower. I didn't feel like doing anything with anyone anymore. Even the things I **LOVED** doing like scrapbooking or hanging with friends. I wouldn't want to do.

My boss (who was also a good friend) at work called me in one night. My "performance" was slipping and she noticed that my breaks & lunches were getting a little longer. (I would go out to my car to cry, or nap.) She finally asked me if I could be depressed.

Nope. Not me. Women in *my* family are strong. Women in *my* family don't get depressed.

She told me that she was sending me home and that I had better make an appointment with a professional before coming back to work the next day, and if I hadn't, she would insist I go to the EPA (Employee Assistance Program). I said fine. but I *knew* I wasn't depressed.

"Depression is a cop-out for when you just wanna be lazy" I told myself. "Depression is just what people say when they feel sorry for themselves; I am not depressed."

I felt like if I admitted I was depressed, I was somehow making excuses. Plus, I felt ashamed for not doing all of the things I was "supposed" to be doing... laundry, dishes, etc. But I went to the Dr. and guess what... yep. I was depressed.

After I got on the Prozac, and was talking to my mom, guess what else. She told me that her own mother (whom for all intents and purposes, neglected her at age 10) battled severe depression. Then she told me that she herself had a bout of it when she was a young mom of 7. I was like, "Wha-? Why didn't you tell me???" I am going to warn my daughter that it runs in the women in my family. I am grateful to a boss who was in tune enough to know I wasn't myself... and not that I had become lazy.

I remember (pre-prozac) there were times when I would be driving home from work, and the next thing I knew I was in a completely different city, like 15 miles from home; passed my exit several minutes before. Twice I drove right past my house and got down to the other end of the road before it even dawned on me (I lived there for over 3 years at the time). I had for real "checked out".

Looking back there were "coincidences" of people calling to check on me. I know this was answer to prayer. Once a lady called to ask me to offer a prayer in church. I wasn't planning on going that day - but I couldn't say no. So, I went. Another lady stopped by my house once to tell me my flowers looked beautiful. Another lady used to stop by every so often to "say hi" and drop some cookies or a note off. These were little rays of hope in my day, helping me to believe that maybe I would be ok, and that I wasn't alone.

Thankfully, I was never severe enough to consider taking my life, or inflicting harm on anyone else.

I still feel depression tugging my sleeve at times. I know what some of my "triggers" are. I have been through enough counseling to recognize the triggers and have been given "coping mechanisms" to help ward it off. Still, it is very hard.

And when life is compounded by other issues and a society of over-achievers, sometimes it's all I can do to keep depression at bay - waving at me from a short distance; mocking me; taunting me. It might even last for several days, weeks or months.

Depression is a real thing. Sometimes it is mild. Sometimes it is severe. Sometimes it makes us feel ashamed or inadequate or incompetent or even unloved. Even if you think you might just be "blue"... if it lasts for more than a week and you have lost all desire to do anything, don't simply shove it aside. Don't put yourself down; rationalizing, saying you are just being lazy. If you feel emotionally unstable in the least bit and there is a chance you might be depressed, go in. Get checked out. You might even consider taking this little assessment Mayo Clinic Depression Self-Assessment .

My cousin, who was only a few weeks older than me, took his own life. It wasn't until after his death did some self-help books arrive that he had ordered. These books made it very apparent that he was severely depressed. It's a shame that he hadn't talked to someone before hand.