Up til I was 34, I was "above" anti-depressants... (famous last words!)

[The following is all a journaling of sorts, with my opinions and observations, and not intended as prescriptive or directive, or to be endorsing any action to be taken in your life]

Do you ever feel incredibly lonely, or think “nobody likes me”… ? It’s been one of my biggest internal conflicts.   I think isolation, loneliness - whether physical or mental, whether it’s imagined or not, is something that can slowly take any of us down – I am susceptible due to rejection and the wrong beliefs I formed as a child.  I had had a lot of breakthrough and healing, but I was tested and sifted further in this season.

I was 34 years old… and ever so Lonely – and yet I was a married mother of four, our family of six living in a 3-bedroom house at that time. I had a job, friends, a church.  Yet feeling I didn’t have a soul to turn to, someone that would understand and accept what I felt was ok.  It wasn’t true but it was my perception, so it was true for me, so I was trapped there. I would also call my depression experience/s a PTSD of sorts (my history and context is explained in detail in an earlier blog post “My mum and me Part I”)

Ironically it wasn’t until I was physically alone on a trip to Samoa in 2012 (for a friend’s wedding) that I started to become aware of my condition.  Sleeping alone in the very basic accommodation of a stick ‘fale’ (the scene for all my childhood triggers associated with pain and trauma)  It occurred to me as I lay staring up the mosquito netting and the pandanus thatching beyond, the only noise the gentle waves on the beach outside, that I hadn’t really slept alone since I was 17.. such clarity can come with solitude. And I mulled over a thought… Several people had asked me that day  “ohh are you missing your children?”… and I had smiled vaguely, but thought “No..?  I haven’t given them a single thought…” This had concerned me; “What is wrong with me? Am I heartless??”  Compared to trips at other times when I’ve craved them, yearned for them.  There was a big clue that things weren’t quite right. 

I assumed that holiday, being the wonderful, even spiritual, experience it was; was enough to refresh and restart me – where in reality I was brought crashing home to reality on my return.

I know a lot of people have more than four children.  I know some people have added strains like children with mental or physical disabilities – for me, it took four kids, perfectly healthy… I hit the wall when they were aged 15, 12, 5 & 2.5 years.  Looking back I can see it was a combination of being ill-equipped for the unique challenges of raising sons, over-complicating my life with commitments, and not maintaining healthy habits.

I had forgotten how a newborn continues to be “one” with your body for months, years even – how breastfeeding and broken sleep depletes you rapidly.  The juxtaposition of having a teenager at one end, AND a two year old –  I knew “I need to be assisting my daughter in this critical point of her schooling” on the other hand I was still in the labour-intensive season of parenting young ones, and I couldn’t look up, let alone look at algebra.

Part of me thought “it’s high time I did something for ME”, causing me to justify an overloaded schedule, saying “Yes” to everything.  But a toddler at home and a five year old struggling badly to adjust to school were the loudest noises in my world and were going to stake their claim for my attention sooner or later.

‘Anxiety’ has taken on a modern meaning and most parents of children growing up pre-2000’s didn’t have the awareness we have nowadays, so in no way do I expect my parents to have discerned that in me, and managed it.  I didn’t know it was a ‘thing’, let alone that I had it until relatively recently. My mum was afflicted with extreme mental health issues which we witnessed and bore the brunt of. Simultaneously I know that culturally she was trained that what one feels or needs is not important – it’s selfish and dramatic and you need to keep your head down and get on with it… another burden I placed on myself too. 

And: I was TRYING SO VERY HARD.  Facilitating courses, leading  groups.  I was going to a bootcamp 3x mornings a week at 6am, I HAD to be a certain weight to accept myself.  Saying yes to every opportunity that came my way.  Speaking in church now and then.  I’d been working part time teaching English, as well as managing my own household.

And as above - my family was literally at the bottom of the list – maybe I was running from that as I didn’t always feel accomplished there – I was struggling to get both my sons to consistently sleep through the night which had a double impact with the fatigue.  Our marriage, at that point seemed to be enduring a neverending winter in little-kid-land.

A BIG red flag was a loss of confidence – which I’m pretty sure goes hand in hand with depression.  Whilst I was doing ‘good’ things here and there, in positions of leadership – I often found it difficult if someone spoke directly to me – I would sometimes be lost for words or feel intimidated and would feel the heat rise into my face – a classic sign for me that I have defaulted to my survival state and to be charming and genuinely connected wasn’t something I could access.

I subscribed to the belief that “I’m a proper adult now, I should be getting better and better, actually I should be SORTED”  ]  Not only that - “I’m a CHRISTIAN” – I should be fixed, I should be perfect.  What a lie!  It’s a natural response, and it’s a human one – it seems right, but it isn’t.  And it sets us up for pride and consequently – a fall, and consequently – shame.  A perpetual and damaging cycle. There there was a sense of panic, pressure and a whole lot of “shoulds” hanging over my head.

If I could speak to that 34 year old now, these are some of the things I would say: Relax. It’s ok. It’s ok to accept the season you are in. It’s ok to do nothing – you won’t be overlooked. Feel the feelings. Welcome the tears – that is processing the grief deep down, and facilitating healing. (OMGosh) You are NOT OLD – it’s not over, it hasn’t even begun. Those ‘shoulds’ and the panicked pressure are not of God.

So, feeling flattened beyond flat, numb, hollow, and with sense of resignation, I paid a visit to my GP – she completed a questionnaire with me, exploring, for example how much joy I was getting out of things that would usually give me joy.  The final ‘score’  it generated was a grim reflection of where I was at mentally and emotionally.  I was prescribed medication and off I went to the chemist.

The physical effects I experienced as I adjusted were what I would imagine vertigo to feel like.   Numbness.  That settled and after a follow up two weeks from that initial consultation, I’d experienced an extraordinarily positive turnaround. 

I’m quite sure the main value was the breakthrough and freedom in saying “I am not coping”

I generally feel when a child reaches the age of three you are to a degree ‘out of the woods’, I needed some help for that last leg of that last child.  I feel blessed that I gained a more aerial view of my wonderful life and was given permission to enjoy it again.

I experienced such liberty in surrender.  “I hand it over. I.  Can’t.  Do.  It.  Any.  More.” A type of re-callibration, a figurative ‘reset’ button.  It was a breakthrough for my husband to recognise where I was at – sometimes it takes an outside professional perspective for him to click – probably because he is a classic Kiwi bloke, yes he is sensitive and soft in many ways, but so incredibly independent and TOUGH, bless him, what a rock he has been for me.

From my early 20’s, I would MEDITATE to effectively manage anxiety – We find value in reflection – to meditate to me is to be still and in my mind’s eye gaze into my heavenly father’s eyes, to picture myself as one of his flock that he tenderly cares for, and receive and personalise His promises.  It was as if my “busy”-ness and activity were vines and thorns that had climbed over the window I was looking into, obscuring, clouding, and choking the true picture.   MediCation for me served to remove that compelling urge to pursue all those obstructions, so that the mediTation could resume more effectively.

I was also reminded of… the value of sleep. It almost has to be our highest priority. If that was being broken at night (kids) - then rest.   Saying no. Humbling myself.  And never again judging others who take medication.  (if that’s all I got out of it, that was enough)

WHY have I shared this… It hopefully releases others too, to be open about the state of their mental health, if they need to be.  To feel safe to be open.  To be vulnerable.

Here I am eight years later, accepting more and more that I’m a ‘work in progress’. That my mental health is not static, in fact I can affect and steer it in almost any direction by my choices and the expectations I put on myself.  I celebrate that I have come a long way, I also know I will never ‘fixed’ or ‘perfect’ until I reach heaven.

As for God – aah… yes, my God.  I was surprised-not-surprised that I sensed no disappointment from Him… no shame…only safety, a soft place. Acceptance.  Whispers of…

“Didn’t I grant medical professionals their wisdom? Didn’t I breathe the creativity into those minds for the medical advancements of the world…?

“let my perfect love cast out all fear”

“My child, my beloved, it’s ok.  It’s ok.  You were acceptable before and you are still acceptable.  I don’t change. I haven’t left and I never will leave.

I don’t love you because of who you are, but because of who I AM”