An unsurmountable heaviness beats down deep within my chest, it’s familiar. It isn’t a hush or a faintness but a shrilling sound that only ones soul can feel when time and patience begins to spiral out of control. The something that was supposed to wonderful is seemingly turning out to be nothing. You know it isn’t the end but it feels like it. You want tomorrow to be yesterday and next week to be a year from now. Life is changing around you but you haven’t figured out exactly how you should change with life but there is a force of change happening that is relentless and inevitable. The world in the 40” screen is a world you can choose to live in at the press of a button but when that screen turns cold and black and the lights are back on, you’re center stage again except you’re the character that no wants to be, sad and feeling self-pity. All you want is for the uncertainty to be a memory. After so much time has passed and you’ve struggled to put all your financial ducks in a row, you finally have a plan that makes sense, and you become proud in your own courage to step out on faith or chance by leaving a dead end job, moving, or ending a relationship (in my case, losing the job) and that dreadful mallet crushes your plans and dreams, where do you go from there? What do you say to people, the people you thought you were being a champion for? You hide in your home, you go on a hunger strike against the lack of accommodations life isn’t providing you, and you begin deserting yourself from even the innocent ones who have many years to gain before ever walking in your ragged shoes.
For me, I knew that I was making the right choice. It was time for me to remove myself from a work environment that wasn’t feeding my purpose or the memory of the dreams I had for myself. Growing up and till this day I was vibrant and depressed, I was a creative. I sought out the meaning of making what was not–a what is, in the realm of artistry. I was an avid reader who could remain focused on three books at a time because I lived in those stories. I wrote poetry and was certain that writing would be for me and I still feel the same way, but there is nothing worse than learning that the creative roadblock you face is because of what I used to believe was a mythical disease has now plagued me. Me, a 31-year-old married mother of four is ravaged by Anxiety disorder, Depression and ADHD (the latter being the mythical one). Knowing that when I revealed this unexpected truth, I would be a woman alone on an island with good hearted people but they will also be deaf and blind to my reality. But I know it is time to be honest and say, “This is who I am, I have some struggles and I can be emotional and withdraw from friends and family, but it isn’t because I want to, it’s because I am sick.” Yes, everyone has moments of depression. But, the worst part of having depression as a disease is that when you have your worst moments, you really feel like the world is against you. You can’t get up from the couch or bed, everything put to use in your house is left at the place you use it, you lose control over yourself and your children and you become a zombie, even worse, a prisoner in your own body and home. This doesn’t mean that you can’t get out it just means that you have to work harder at identifying the problem and be persistent in getting the help you need. When you know you are unbalanced consistently and everything that everyone says triggers an emotion from you, don’t be afraid to find a way to get help. Don’t be afraid of medication, try different kinds until you find one that fits, or try behavioral therapy, perhaps you have a list of childhood grievances to uncover. Speak up and get help! You know, when you know!