It's Been a While

Hello again. I was looking back over my blog and noticed that I haven't posted anything in a while. No, I did not finish the Christmas Challenge. Let me explain why. I had a beautiful baby girl on Aug 3, 2009. After a few months, I didn't want to admit it, but I knew that something was wrong with me. I wasn't feeling quite right--not sleeping well, no appetite one day and a huge one the next, no energy, anxious a lot, stressed out all the time, and really sad thoughts. I finally decided that I needed to go talk to a counselor at church because in my mind I was just not happy. I thought that I was doing something wrong and making myself this way. I got an appointment and went and spoke with an awesome lady. She basically reassured me that I was normal, but that I really needed to go see a psychiatrist or my obgyn. She couldn't officially diagnose me with anything since she is a lay counselor, but she thought that I had post partum depression and anxiety.

Well, all of this really hit the fan around Thanksgiving. Little man had pneumonia and a fever for 2 weeks--the week before Thanksgiving and the week of Thanksgiving. I was going stir crazy having to stay home, and it didn't help my situation. Around Dec. 11 is when we found out about the diagnosis. I started on zoloft a few days later. I don't know, I guess I thought it would be some kind of magic pill, and I would wake up feeling magically better about myself, my kids, and my situation. Sadly, that did not happen. I went through several weeks of horrible side effects--physically shaking, severe anxiety, deep sadness, thoughts of wanting to die, etc.

At the beginning of January, I was able to get in with an awesome doctor at Emory University. She specializes in post partum depression, anxiety disorders, and other mental illnesses like these. She has formally diagnosed me with post partum depression, anxiety disorder, panic attacks, and OCD. Let me just say, when she told me all of that I nearly fell on the floor crying. Why am I so messed up? What have I done wrong? Why can't I fix this? I will never be able to fix all of this. The hundreds of questions that I didn't have answers for kept running through my head. Though I now had a diagnosis, I didn't really know where to go from here. I wasn't sure how to "cure" all of these things. During all of that time, I had continued to speak with my church counselor weekly, take an anti-depressant daily, and take anti-anxiety pills as needed.

I would love to say that I am writing this today (2 months later) and things are peachy, but that's not the case. Yes, things are on the up and up, but I am still struggling. January was extremely rough. My beyond wonderful husband had to take 1/3 of his vacation days in January just to stay home and take care of our kids and me because I was not able too. He also had to work from home several days to just be there in case I needed him. Words can not express how amazing he is and continues to be. He is my rock and my safe place. Thank you Lord for giving me to him and him to me. I also had the help of my loving mom. She would drive over from Alabama and help out during the week with the kids, house chores, and me. I know that many of my other friends have helped too, and we wouldn't have survived without them.

As for today, I am still having several panic attacks a week, but thank the Lord they are getting fewer. I have still not conquered my feelings of being overwhelmed to the point of feeling paralyzed sometimes. This is the thing that frustrates me the most. If you know me personally, then you know that I am a very driven person. I like to make to-do lists and get things done. Basically, what I have come to realize is that I am not perfect and nor will I ever be perfect. My house is not perfect nor will it ever be perfect. I can not live up to the insane expectations that I have in my head for myself. I have to take things one day, one hour, one minute at a time.

While I have been going through all of this, I have realized one extremely important fact. I am not alone. Yes, I have James and my family, but I don't mean that. I mean even when I have felt alone or isolated I haven't been. God has always been there to listen and take care of me even when I didn't acknowledge Him. The poem below perfectly describes my situation.

Footprints in the Sand

One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord.
Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.
In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand.
Sometimes there were two sets of footprints,
other times there were one set of footprints.

This bothered me because I noticed
that during the low periods of my life,
when I was suffering from anguish, sorrow or defeat,
I could see only one set of footprints.

So I said to the Lord,
"You promised me Lord,

that if I followed you,
you would walk with me always.
But I have noticed that during
the most trying periods of my life
there have only been one
set of footprints in the sand.
Why, when I needed you most,
you have not been there for me?"

The Lord replied,

"The times when you have
seen only one set of footprints in the sand,
is when I carried you."

Mary Stevenson

I would love to say that throughout all of this I have put my faith in the Lord and let Him guide me. I have not always turned to Him during this time, but He has never left my side or forsaken me. He has taught me more about Himself and who He wants me to become from this trial in my life. This journey is far from over, and thank you Father for carrying me this far.

Lindsey