mindfulness

The blog was quiet last week, I have been waiting for the energy to write.  I'm still tired and flat today but I have decided it is time to write anyway.   

I suffered badly with post natal depression with my third child, Henry and it taught me so many lessons.  I thought I might share some with you and a little of my story....After Henry, I suffered from PND.  1 in 4 people will suffer depression at some stage in their life. I don't know how to describe it really.....Depression rears its ugly head in so many forms.  Some cry, some are anxious, some are moody, some are sad, some are angry.  I was angry.  I would rage, like I have never known.  Everyday I would yell, snap, even scream.  I would rage at my husband, and even my children.  I was awful.  The people who I loved the most got the very worst of me dished to them daily on a silver platter.  It.  Was.  Hell.  For everyone.  Even my anger angered me.  I was either angry or numb.  I couldn't cry.  Not a tear. I put on my "work face" and got on with my life the best I could.  People didn't know.  

I believe my PND was primarily caused by a chronic lack of sleep throughout my pregnancy, then needing a c-section, and then having a baby with terrible reflux.  I just got sick.

Every night I would go to bed and pray.  I would pray for patience, for peace in my heart.  That I would be the mother my sweet babies needed and deserved, to be the loving mother I knew I needed to be, that I so desperately wanted to be.  I would pray with all my heart.  I would give thanks for all the amazing things I had.  My beautiful boys, my amazing, patient, loyal husband.  I would give thanks for our little cozy house, our security.

Every morning I would wake up and take time to remember how grateful I was for my life, for my gentle patient Grant, my beautiful children, my lovely little home.  I was warm, safe, dry, fed.  Every single morning I would wake up DETERMINED to do better.  I would clear my mind and focus on being calm and loving. That I would be able to let go of the indescribable anger that gripped my body,.  I told myself I would do better.  That TODAY I would be the mother my boys deserved.

Every day, I failed.  

At first I thought it was hormones, or baby blues.  At about 4 months in I realized it wasn't right, that it was worsening and I decided to go to the Dr and I went on medication.  It was a very low dose of anti-depressant.  Slowly and surely over the next 18 months life got better.  It was not fast, it was not over night and I have had to, and continue to still work very hard on it.
 
Slowly, very slowly I came back.  I realized that awful rage I was consumed by was not me, it was not who I was in my heart of hearts but instead it was the disease that gripped my body.  Slowly the rage dispersed.  I returned. 

I always knew depression was a disease, but you know when you truly "know" something from experience? It is a strong and powerful disease.  It is not merely "negative thinking". You cannot positively think your way our of true and deep depression.  I know because by golly I tried.

Medication, Faith, family, friends and simple living or at least mindful living is what has helped heal me.

My faith is a corner stone to who I am.  Knowing God "would not leave me nor forsake me"  was a line I repeated over and over in my mind.  And it was the truth.  I was truly blessed throughout this dark period though at the time I was not so able to see it as I can in health and hindsight.  And through this illness, God has grown me.  Stronger, but more fragile all at once.

Family - when Grant and I made our vows we really made them.  In sickness and in health, for better or for worse.  My family was my anchor to this world.  They forgave my behavior.  I always apologized, I always acknowledged it but that didn't stop it from causing hurt.  It would be easy to dwell on this.  That I was a really crap Mum.  And an even crapper wife.  My friends came and picked me up and dusted me off.  I have amazing friends.  Some brought food, or something small to make me smile.  They sat with me, they accepted me, they listened.  They still do.  They loved me unconditionally.  And that is a powerful thing.  I am truly blessed by the friendships in my life.

This next bit may sound preachy but I want to share my story, by sharing our stories we can help people understand this terrible illness.  Knowing God was there, knowing he sent down his only son to forgive us of our sin really helped me.  There is freedom in that. You see I really believe we are all broken.  All of us.  I mean we all stuff things up.  No matter how much we INTEND to do well, we fall short.  We hurt people.  We forget important things.  It's human nature.  It doesn't mean we don't try really hard not to stuff up.  It doesn't mean we don't learn from our mistakes, it doesn't mean we don't own it, apologise and try to grow through it.  It's just despite our best efforts and finest intentions, we do stuff up anyway.  And it's crap every time we do.

There is a kind of freedom in realizing everyone is broken, that when you strip us all back we are all just the same.  But that if we turn to God that he can guide us.  That we are loved and valued despite our brokenness unconditionally.  That he will show us grace.  By knowing that truth, I was able to show myself grace.  I have forgiven myself of the behavior that consumed me when I was sick.  It was not who I was but that doesn't stop it from hurting any less.  I could choose to have that guilt and burden hang over my head as a parent, which would be increadably unhelpful as parenting is hard enough without trying to do it through guilt.  But my faith frees me from that.

I'm getting to the simple living part I promise!  

Simple living has helped me to be mindful.  It has helped me strip back all the unnecessary things and focus on what important.  It has helped to bring me quiet in my mind.  It has helped me to live a simplified life, to eat better, to live better.  To not look for the "quick" fixes but to instead look at the problem and deal with it directly.  My eyes were already wide open to the things that are marketed at us as "quick" fixes.  the promises "things" are supposed to bring us.  But they don't.  Things can never bring us joy, well not the kind of lasting joy we are searching for.  For me living a mindful life, and honest life and a simple life helps me to keep whats truly valuable close to my heart.  My home helped to heal me.  It was my safe place.  Where I could be myself, I could hide, I could rest, I could fill up my tank.  

A little over 2 weeks ago I went off my medication, with a plan in place.  I'm ok but I'm tired, I have had headaches.  My mind is foggy.  My emotions have been haywire but I think I am getting there.  I have spent lots of time at home pottering about in the peace and quiet.  In my haven.  So if the blog is quiet this is why.  Because I am simplifying life.  I am filling my tank, I am growing well.  I am here, cooking for my family, sewing and resting.  I'm giving myself some grace. 

xx

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