I mean I get by, I function. I continue to do the laundry, clean the house, and help the kids with their homework. I still manage to cook dinner most nights and get groceries once a week. I attend basketball games and field trips. I change diapers and play blocks with my 3 year old son. I get up every single morning and do what I am supposed to do. But come 5 or 6 I am drained. I am spent, and many days I feel spent by 1 in the afternoon, or 10 in the morning. I am surviving. Barely, I am barely surviving. Only Amos and my older boys see my exhaustion and struggle. Like my Mom, I hide it well when out in front of others. I find all the noise that comes with having 4 kids very overwhelming as of late. I am finding it hard to make simple decisions, confusion seems to be the theme in my brain most days now. I feel super irritable a lot, too much in my opinion. I am sure too much in my sweet husbands opinion too.
The problem is, that I have kept making excuses for why it may be that I feel this way. Moving, traveling, having two toddlers. Being super busy with 4 kids and a fixer upper for a house. Having 3 babies so close together. All of these things are true. I am starting to believe though, that they are just small symptoms of a much larger problem.
So I have asked myself this past week how long have I felt this way? I thought back to this summer when we traveled to New Mexico for Amos' job. I drove up to Albuquerque to pick up a friend and visit my Mom's grave. I drove alone with my 4 kids and its about a 3 or 4 hour drive. I have a hard time driving long distances because I tend to get very sleepy, which is dangerous and scary. Anyway, that trip was rough, both physically and emotionally. We were traveling at the end of July and this happened to be the day Koralyn died, July 25. I was able to pick up my friend and take her down to Alamogordo to help me with the kids for the week.Not before I locked my keys into my running car with my sleeping baby inside. Luckily I was with my cousin and we were able to get a locksmith out quickly. After seeing me and hearing my story the sweet locksmith didn't even charge me a dime. It was a blessing for sure to experience kindness in that hard moment. I was able to go buy flowers and visit my Mom's grave before picking up my friend.
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| Visiting my Mom's grave on Koralyn's Death Day July 25, 2016 |
After spending the week in Alamogordo, Friday came and it was time to drive my friend back up to Albuquerque.That morning, I was feeling overwhelmed and exhausted, and she was feeling stressed about making it to work on time later in the day. We were running late and tensions were high. I yelled at her and we started fighting. In our long friendship, we have only fought a small number of times. Basically after arguing, and then being pulled over by a police officer for unknowingly speeding, I cried most of drive back to Albuquerque and then again on the way back to Alamogordo. I was crying from pure exhaustion, crying because I was home in New Mexico but I didn't really have any home to go back to anymore. Crying, because my mama was in the ground, instead of driving down to Alamo to be with me and my babies. Crying, because my best friend and I had a rare fight and on top of all my other emotions that felt devastating.
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| Spending the Day in Tularosa during our trip back to NM. |
As I have been thinking this week and talking with Amos, I pinpointed that as the beginning of this dwelling in the dark. He lovingly told me he believes it started before that. This revelation shocked me, and made me ask myself again, okay how long has this been going on? Truth be told, I don't think I can pinpoint it. Has it been since my Dad came to live with us right after Abram was born? Since his death in August 2014? Since Karis' birth in October of 2015? Since losing Koralyn way back in 2012? Honestly I don't know. For a long time I felt like I was doing pretty good. I had hard days and weeks but I was coping and still able to find joy in things.
It will be 5 years this year since the death of my Grandma Juanita on March 31, 2012. Grandma, as everyone who knew her called her, was really my second mom. She lived right next to us or with us for all of my growing up. I was unable to be with her after her stroke or attend her funeral because I was 9 months pregnant with my medically fragile daughter. On April 9, 2012 Koralyn Marie was born with HLHS. On May 20, 2012, two days before my 30th birthday and seven weeks after my Grandma's death, my mom was killed at age 55, in a motorcycle accident.I flew home to New Mexico alone to help my sister bury my mom. Two months to the day after we buried my mom, Koralyn died on July 25, 2012 from massive blood clots in her heart that formed after her second stage Glenn procedure. We had a short break from change, turmoil, and tragedy. Then on November 13, 2013, Abram Jace was born! My dad found out before Abram's birth that he had aggressive lung cancer. He came to Dallas in December of 2013 after being told in St. Louis that nothing else could be done. Abram was a month old the day Dad came to our house. For the next 7 months my dad lived between our home in Midlothian, and my Aunt and Uncle's home in Dallas. He decided to fight his cancer and receive his treatment at Baylor in Dallas. After initially seeing success we were told in late June that his cancer had spread all over his body and he needed to go on hospice. In July he went "home" to his beloved New Mexico with my sister to die at her house on August 2, 2014. Shortly after that, I got pregnant with Karis. During my pregnancy with her we once again were prenatally diagnosed with heart issues. Karis was born October 16, 2015 with an ASD and VSD. Before that we had changed churches, which was a very difficult decision to make since our Matthew Road family had loved us so well during this excruciating time in our lives. Daniel and Kim were so priceless to us, not to mention the rest of the church body loving us and taking care of us.Then because we are clearly insane, Amos and I decided it was time to move in October of 2016.
To say the last 5 years have been a whirlwind is an understatement. My head still seems to be spinning and I can't wrap my mind around all the changes that have taken place. My heart aches because I feel like I have lost most of my family. I am trying to figure out who I am now. I have taken pride in the fact that I keep functioning. I keep going and fighting and functioning for my kids and my husband. I have taken pride in the fact that through all of this, I haven't lost my faith or become angry with God. I still trust and believe that he is Sovereign over all of this. That he has a reason and is working all things for good, even if that good doesn't come here on earth. I still go to Him with my pain and struggle and my praises too.
But friends, I don't know how much longer I can just keep functioning. I am recognizing that I am having a harder and harder time coping with normal life and 4 kids. The littlest things seem to deplete, overwhelm, and confuse me. Stopping me in my tracks, and making it hard to regain focus or composure. I feel exhausted most of the time. I long for quiet and solitude. I find myself not wanting to be around my children or my husband because I feel so completely drained and overwhelmed. Everything feels hard. Everything. At the same time I have been struggling with great loneliness and feeling unseen. It sounds contradictory and I guess it is.
I am strong willed and emotional. I always have been, and I don't see that changing. Its that strong will that God built into me that has helped me to survive this far. So to come to the realization that I may need help now, isn't easy for me to admit. As I said, I have taken pride in my ability to not need much help up to this point. It is silly really, because I realize that I have only survived and kept functioning by the Grace of God and with the help of my dear sweet husband, my closest friends, and my wonderful counselor Ms. Jackie. (I haven't been in active counseling since before my dad died due to Ms. Jackie retiring. I thought I was well enough to no longer require counseling) I realize and have known all along really, that it hasn't just been me, but all these loved ones, and God's great grace that has carried me this far.
My sweet friend Stacie told me that it shows strength to admit and realize you need help. To ask for help is a big step. She is right, and my friends that have stepped alongside me and encouraged me during this have been such a help and a blessing. I am learning there is no shame in admitting I need more help. It doesn't mean I am weak, or have failed, or that God has failed me. It means I need to let others help me, I need to let others show me the love of Christ and be His hands and feet to me. Admitting this is not easy, because I tend to people please, and don't want to inconvenience anyone.
All of this to say, that thanks to my friends who love me, and aren't afraid to be honest with me, and my husband who supports me so much. I have decided to step out of my comfort zone and the dark place I find myself in, and ask for more help. I am going back into counseling for myself. (I have had Asa back in counseling and focusing on his anxiety and grief) I have made a doctors appointment to get my hormones tested and I realize I may need to go on a low dose medication to help me through this time. (Medication scares me, and I don't like taking anything)
I think what has been so confusing for me the last few years is that because of all of my losses and changes I don't know if what I am feeling is grief, complicated grief, postpartum depression, or if it is a combination of all these things. I guess that's why I haven't asked for help before now, because I am honestly unsure of what help it is I need. So I will start again with counseling and go from there.
I tell you all of this because I am well aware of the stigma surrounding grief and depression. Our society still tells us that we need to pull ourselves up by our bootstraps, by our faith, by our sheer will and move on. Anything less is weak and defective. I am here to say that this is not true my friends. I still take great comfort in my faith in a sovereign God. I am so glad I have a Savior, Jesus who refused to leave me in my brokenness. He came down and became broken too for me and for you. Because of this, because of Him, I still have Hope for my future. I still have an extremely strong will, and yet, I am tired and need help. That is okay. Needing help doesn't make us defective or less than, it makes us beautifully human, beautifully broken.
I refuse to stay here in this dark place because of some standard, because of some stigma that if I need help to stay emotionally and mentally healthy I am less than. Who are we kidding? Who is it that we are trying so hard to impress with our ability to be okay, to be fine, well, and good, no matter what life throws at us. This my friends is a farce. Don't carry that weight on your shoulders by yourself. Truth be told we all need help at some point. There is beauty in realizing, admitting, and asking for help. Being brave is deciding to step out of the darkness and fight to find the light again. Don't let anyone tell you being brave is hiding in the darkness and hoping it gets better. Being brave is fighting to find the light, walking through the darkness until you see it. Even if at first, it is nothing more than a tiny glimmer. It will get brighter if you keep pushing back the darkness. We can't do it alone, we all need each other and we need permission to be broken and ask for help.I am going to be brave and ask for help. If you are hurting and in the dark, and you can't seem to fight to find the light again. Be brave, be brave with me. Tell someone. Tell the people who love you. I refuse to be anything but myself, anything but open, honest, and real. Thank you to all the ones who love me for that. Thank you so much.
