What Do YOU Have To Be Depressed About?

I am a very open book.  Even in my real life, I have never shied away from being honest and open about my struggles with everything from infertility, depression, and being a parent.  I have often posted long Facebook posts about these struggles, detailing how I feel, what I do to maintain my life, and helpful words for those going through the same things.  I’ve had a lot of people thank me for being open, and that’s why I do it.  You are certainly not alone, and I want you to always know that.

….but my family thinks my depression is not real.  They think it’s impossible for me to suffer from something when I have no reason to be sad.

“How could you possibly be sad? You have a great husband, great kids, a great house!” – Mom

“You need to just quit thinking about other people so much. You can’t fix the world. That’s what’s making you sad.” – Dad

“Just don’t be sad anymore, okay?” – Grandma

I’ve tried explaining that depression isn’t just being sad about things happening around you.  Yes, it can be a contributing factor, certainly.  It can even be the main reason you’re depressed, like if you are dealing with a loss of a loved one, or a job loss.  Depression can also be hormonal and chemical in nature.

My depression is hormonal.  The hormones from my autoimmune thyroid condition, and the hormones from my PCOS, and the hormones from my PMDD and join together and crush my soul with their spikes and dips.  There is rarely anything I can do to control it.  I take medication and supplements.  I eat right (I do not drink alcohol, I do not eat gluten, dairy, or sugar), I try to do yoga stretches (exercise is hard when your body is constantly aching from autoimmune issues), and I try to meditate.  I spend 98% of my life focusing on trying to feel better, and doing everything in my power to try to avoid another depressive episode.

My family knows this, yet they still constantly tell me that I can’t be depressed.  Sometimes they blame it on my caring about things, sometimes they blame it on me being sensitive, sometimes they blame it on me being a millennial.   I mean, I suppose being a sensitive, caring, 36 year old might be the cause of my hormonal imbalances…. wait, no, that’s stupid.

If your parents are unable to understand you or help you, help yourself.  Research, talk to people who understand, talk to a therapist.  Do whatever you can to try and improve your health.  I’m going on years of trial and error, working out exactly what helps and what doesn’t.  It’s a constant battle and a constant struggle to feel good, or to even feel “normal”, but I am constantly trying.  Constantly working.  Constantly pushing through….  because what happens if I give up?  What happens if I give in to the depression and let these emotional neglectful family members get in my head and echo around in there with the already dreadful voice of depression?  How can I ever heal?  How can I ever be a good mom, a good wife, a good person if I let them tell me that I can’t feel better while being who I am?

I can feel better, and I will feel better, and since they cannot be part of my healing, their words will be one more thing I no longer ingest.

My First Father’s Day Awake

I’ve always known that I didn’t much care for my dad.  We have our good moments, but they are few and far between.  Mostly my relationship with him has been avoidance.  Avoiding his alcoholic assholery, his demeaning comments about how I look and/or act, and his narcissism, which oozing out of his pores along with the booze.

I do not like my dad.  I honestly never have, but this year really opened my eyes.  I have no desire to talk to him, and when i see I message or missed call from him, I am filled with dread.  I’m not good at hiding how I feel, even within a text message, so he knows.  He is very aware of how much I’ve changed, and how I am unapologetic for it.  To say that his narcissism is eating him alive with “HOW DARE SHE?!” is putting it mildly.  The other day, after I didn’t quickly respond back to an “I love you,” I was confronted by my mom, demanding that I tell my dad I love him even though “we haven’t always been the best parents, but we are the only parents you’ll ever have.”  Anyone else ever heard this shit before?  I was sick, and disgusted by feeling obligated to respond.

I did respond though. I said “Love you,” and was immediately told to also respond to my dad’s phone too.  It was torture, but I did it, and yesterday I had to send “happy father’s day”… and it took me until 3pm to actually do it.  (Why did I feel like I “HAD” to?)

This was the first year I haven’t wanted, in any way, to send that message.  The emotional damage my parents put me and my sister through as we were growing up is weighing on me now.  As a mom, I struggle.  I struggle with understanding why I am always so angry and why emotions of my kids are hard for me to process.  I am an HSP (highly sensitive person), I have emotions leaking out of me at every moment, but when my kids are overly needy, I get angry.  Why?  Because that’s how my parents responded to me.

When I was emotional growing up (often), instead of being supportive, my parents made fun of me.  They ridiculed me for being upset, for crying, for locking myself in the bathroom so they could’t see me.  They STILL talk about it, and make fun of me for it.  I’m in my mid 30’s.

I suffered from emotionally neglectful narcissistic parents, and I am on a road to recovery.  I need to fix myself so that I can be a better mother.  I have to fix my trauma that they caused, just so I can live a better life.  Just so I do not pass this trauma to my own kids.

Who else is carrying the trauma of someone else?  Who else is trying to heal right now?  What’s your first step?

My first step is reading “Adult Children of Emotionally Neglectful Parents.”  It’s been so accurate it’s actually making me mad that I didn’t realize how much damage I have from them.  I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive them, especially since I have spent the past 3-4 years trying to discuss it with them, only to be told that I’m just too emotional and sensitive and that “your life isn’t that bad!  Quit being dramatic!”

I am angry, and I am determined to work through this anger and get to a point where I am at peace with being myself and where I am able to be an understanding mom to my own children.  I cannot let their mistakes be my mistakes. I cannot let their 30+ years of infectious words keep seeping through me.

I am kind, I am intelligent, I am capable.  I suffer from anxiety, depression, and anger.  I can and will learn to use everything I am, and everything I suffer from, to improve myself and live a healthier, happier life.  Healing starts when you’re ready, and I’m ready now.


I’m back into puzzles during quarantine.  Puzzles have always been a form of escape for me.  It keeps my attention and requires some thought “hmm, is this blue more purple blue or more blue blue?”

I used to do a 1,000 piece puzzle every Christmas at my house.  It gave me a few days to be by myself and not have to be part of my family unit.  My family unit is more scattered and confusing than a 1,000 piece puzzle poured out onto a piece of poster board, and has only become worse over the years as they age.  A puzzle can be put back together and make sense, my family can’t.  They are like a wet bag of puzzle pieces – broken and peeling away from themselves.

I’m going to be using this blog again so that I can vent and feel better.  I need something.  Yesterday my mind and body basically stopped working after a two hour panic attack.  I laid down and slept from 2:30pm-6pm.  I’m going gray in my mid-30’s.  I no longer find my crafts entertaining, and it’s hard to push myself to even attempt to make something new.  

I know this pandemic is changing everything forever… can you feel it too?

Minimalist Life: In Progress…

I’ve always been a minimalist at heart.  I’ve never wanted for much, I don’t enjoy buying things just to buy them, and too much decor has always driven me crazy.  Growing up in a single wide trailer with a family of four didn’t help.  I was always surrounded by things.  Other people’s things, and things other people thought I wanted or needed, despite my constant pleas for them to stop buying me things.

The problem is that most people don’t understand the concept of someone not wanting things.  Who wouldn’t want a brand name sweater?  A pretty vase? A basket full of scented lotions?  What kind of person doesn’t want a heartfelt gift?

Well, I guess me.  I don’t want anything from anyone.  Well, except the unconditional overwhelming love and adoration of my husband.  That is something I must have, but I am needy and I digress…

My main point here is that I want to truly embrace the minimalist life.  Being truly stuck at home for the past… decade? I kid, five weeks?  I honesty don’t know anymore… but being stuck at home with my kids has shown me, and 100% verified to me, that my kids don’t need things either.  They don’t want things.  The less cluttered the space, the more they want to be in it.  Give them a room filled with toys? No thanks.  Give them an empty kitchen table and you get to see the true magic of childhood.  Playdough and paint and glue.  Give them a pretty bare bedroom?  Relaxing time to read or play on their Ipads (only learning apps, don’t come at me).

This quarantine serves as a reminder to us all that we don’t NEED this much stuff.  We don’t need a new amazon box at our doorstep each day with a new toy or gizmo or thing.  We don’t need to go to Target to “just look” and bring home $100 in stuff we didn’t need in the first place.  (I’m not knocking a long stroll through a Target with a coffee in search of necessities… I hope to do that again someday…)

What do we really, truly need?

For me, since this whole situation began, I’ve needed comfort of my husband, the laughs of my kids, food, soil, and seeds.  We’ve learned to cook new things, we have started a garden for the first time (Home Depot delivery), we have done puzzles, had dance parties, played outside for a couple hours each day, learned how to do distance learning.  We have adapted to a new normal, and it turns out that the lack of non-essentials is a true bright spot in this new world.  I hope this teaches a lot of people about the difference between want and need.  I hope it shines a bright light on over-consumption and what the hours of your working life truly should be spent on.

And on a completely different note, I hope everyone is safe and happy.  I hope you have what you need, and if you don’t, I hope you have the help you need to survive right now.  This is not a walk in the park.  It’s not a picnic.  It’s hard.  It’s such a change and a struggle, mostly mentally.  I know I’ve been suffering mentally.  I’m trying to take each day as it comes, sometimes each hour.  Things will, someday, somehow, come to a new normal.  We will see friends and family again.  We will be free of the confines of our houses.  We will work and play in public.  Things will never be the same as they were, but our new normal will be coming, and we will adapt to it, as we have adapted to this new normal.  Hang in there, everyone.


I’m Still Here

I remembered that my last post was a little… scary? I wanted to update and let you all know that I’m still here, and I’m feeling better.  I’ve changed up some supplements, I’ve stayed away from things that get in my head (family drama, mostly), and I also quit drinking three months ago.

Baby steps… but I’m doing a lot better.  I hope you are all well, and I hope you have wonderful holiday, or non-holiday, days ahead.

I am horrifically depressed

I’ve been battling depression since having my oldest, who will be six in June.  I used to think it was post-partum depression, and that it would eventually go away, but now that my youngest is three, and the depression is getting worse, I guess I have to assume it’s something else.

I’m currently blaming my thyroid, which is probably pretty accurate, but to be honest with you, it’s also my kids.

My kids. They are constant.  They are noise and touching and neediness.  They are nonstop, even at night now.  There is no rest, even when I’m resting, because I know that at any second they will be up, and so will I.

I never wanted to have kids.  I knew my mentality wasn’t for kids.  I had kids because my husband wanted a kid, and I would give my husband the moon, if he asked.  And even though I struggled with my daughter, I didn’t have THIS hard of a time.  My son is hard headed and horrible.  He hits, kicks, screams.  He says “no” more than he takes breaths.  He is pure strength and noise.  He has worn me down, and now there is nothing left.  I feel empty of compassion and love.  I wake up every morning, wishing I was somewhere else.  Wishing they were someone elses responsibility.  Wishing my husband and I were rich enough to have someone else do it all while we did whatever we wanted.

Even my husband is tired and frustrated, and I joke that he is about 98% robot.  We are always irritated and never get any real time together, besides an hour or so a few nights a week.  We are struggling, and it’s mostly because I am struggling.

I told him I need help.  So we are trying to send my son to a neighbors house a few times a week so she can watch him for me while my daughter is at school.  I’m also going to go to the doctor and try to get my thyroid (or whatever) in check.  I know something is messed up because my body temperature keeps dropping to 95.9.  Something is off physically, could it be causing all of this mental strife?

I feel like this post is all over the place and spacey.  I feel like I can’t really get my thoughts across in a way that makes sense or really explains what I’m feeling.  To sum it up, I feel nothing.  Nothing but a longing to be somewhere else.

Am I alone in this motherhood struggle?  Is anyone else empty of joy?

It’s been almost six years since I’ve felt like myself.  Or, an old version of myself that I liked more.  I asked my husband if I seemed like the same person and he said “no, you don’t seem happy.”  He’s right. I’m not.

Will I ever be happy again?

Little At Home – Big At School

Two months ago, I was so delighted with the idea of my oldest starting kindergarten, and my youngest going to preschool two mornings a week, that I basically sang while I spoke about it.

Eeeeight hours alooooone each weeeekkk!!!

Then my oldest started kindergarten three weeks ago, and my youngest and I suddenly had some time together, just he and I.  It felt like I was meeting him for the very first time.  It amazed me that he already had so many thoughts and opinions on the things in his life.  He also started speaking so much more, and so much more clearly.  (My daughter is a chronic over-talker, she only stops talking when she falls asleep).

It was a whole new world for me and my little man.  So, yesterday I decided that preschool can wait.  This year, I’m giving my littlest a whole year of mommy to himself.  I can’t wait to see how he grows over this next year, what he learns, and the little person he becomes.

On a separate note…. how on earth is my daughter already old enough to be in kindergarten?  She just turned five at the end of June, but kindergarten in our district started July 11th because we are year-round.  So far she seems to be doing amazingly well, but I’m not going to act like I  don’t still feel like it’s wrong to drop her off at school and leave her for 7.5 hours.  Watching her tiny little feet walk down the big bus steps in the afternoon.  Hearing her talk about new friends, and people teasing her for this and that.  It’s all very emotional for me, since I never liked school, even kindergarten.  I’m glad she’s enjoying it, but I do worry that school is going to rob her of some innocence that could have been kept for longer if I had had the ability (mentally) to home-school.

I guess the point of this parenting business is that you never actually know the best thing to do.  You just have to trust your gut and keep your own insecurities in check so that they don’t rub off on your kids.  E loves school, S loves being home.  So, right now they are both thriving, and that’s good.

On Being A Girl

Lately there have been a lot of issues coming up involving women.  Some women marched a few months back, if anyone remembers, but there were women on the other side of that march who were flabbergasted that any woman in this country would have the audacity to march in a country where they had nothing to worry about, ever.  They failed to see how a woman making less than a man for the same job was troublesome, they failed to see how woman being assaulted was anything but the woman’s fault for “not being more careful,” or “wearing the wrong thing.”  They even defended when a woman was fired for being pregnant.  I seriously read a comment from a woman who said “a woman could not possibly do two jobs well at once.  She should just focus on the job of growing a healthy baby.”

This is the country we live in today.  It’s August 26th, 2017, and there are woman who still think that there is something inherently submissive about a woman.  “Women ARE different,” they say, “we are more frail, more emotional, more weak.”  They usually throw in a Bible quote somewhere too, proving that even God thinks women are there to make babies and sandwiches.

So, it’s not surprising the have my own mother in law say words like “you know E, she’s just overly emotional because she’s a girl.” or “she falls down a lot like me, plus she’s a girl, so she’s got two things working against her.”  She says these things with honesty. She believes them.  She says them often because my father in law finds my daughter’s emotions to be… annoying?  Icky?  Uncomfortable?  I’m not sure.  Usually it seems to make him a bit ragey.  Probably because he is incredibly repressed emotionally, and easy to anger.  So my mother in law thinks she’d defending E, and calming the father-in-law beast, by spouting off excuses for E’s emotions, justifying it by her also having a vagina, therefore making her an expert on all things woman.

I find it infuriating.  My daughter is four.  If she falls, if she is uncomfortable, if she’s sad, if she’s tired, if she’s confused or frustrated, she cries. Why isn’t that okay?  Why is it something that has to have an excuse?  My son cries ALL THE TIME, but that’s never because he’s a boy, no one even mentions it.  (Although my father in law will say “oh, cut that out, you’re a boy,” which also makes me want to throat punch).

I’m at a point in life where I don’t really know how to handle this situation anymore.  We live in their neighborhood and see them often.  They are not bad people, but their words are being heard, not just by me, but by my kids.  The last thing I want is for either my daughter or my son to feel like they shouldn’t be able to cry, for any reason they feel necessary.  That was the kind of house I grew up in.  I was ridiculed by every member of my family any time I cried.  It got to the point where I’d lock myself in the bathroom when I needed to cry, just so I couldn’t hear their taunts.  They called me “Katie Kaboom”  A cartoon character known for her sudden emotional outbursts.

I’m still an emotional person, but only to my immediate family.  My husband and kids see me cry, but I will hold every ounce of feeling back when I’m around my parents or sister. To them, they think I’m an uncaring robot.  Interesting, right?  If a woman cries, it’s because we possess a vagina.  If we don’t cry, there is something wrong with us.  Is there a way to win this gender war we are having?  Is there a way to be a strong woman who cries and wants equal rights in the world, or do we have to give up something about ourselves?  Can a man still be a man if they cry too?

Why are so many people trying to get rid of emotions in both genders?  Isn’t that the last thing this planet needs right now?  We need more compassion and love and empathy. That is what I am going to teach my kids.  That is what I am going to tell my in-laws, even though I know it won’t work. I will have to work extra hard to try and repair the damage they inflict.  That might sound harsh, but I know first hand what it feels like to hear that my emotions are wrong, and it does damage that will stay with you forever if you don’t have a voice that is even louder shouting “you can cry and I will hold you until you feel better.”

When It’s Easier to Plug-in, Unplug.

I knew today would be hard when I cracked open my eyes to see what time it was at it was only 5:54.  My daughter, standing at the side of my bed, leaning her face into my face, quietly asking if she could snuggle.  I peered back at her through blurry, glasses-less eyes and said “it’s too early, go ask your daddy….”  (He was on the other side of the bed, mind you).

I guess my answer should have been “sure, baby girl.  I know it’s an hour before your get-up clock says it’s okay to be in our room, but you never listen to that anyway because you are strong and independent, and I admire that!”

I just don’t like to be woken up, and especially not so damned early.  Turns out my son was working on a bowel movement and woke up 23 minutes later, screaming his face off.

This is motherhood.  It’s real and it’s raw.  It’s opening your weary eyes and having to immediately “get to work,” so to speak.  There is no waking up when your body says so, or going to the bathroom, or brushing your teeth, or drinking your tea/coffee while you listen to the silence of the earth rotating in space.  It’s just non-stop noise, dancing, hitting, yelling, eating, crying, screaming, laughing…. and that’s just from the four year old.

So, today, on day five of a very long week, I should have thrown my hands into the air and said “screw it!  Here’s an iPad, and the TV, and any snack you want, just be quiet for five minutes!!!” But, I didn’t.  I breathed through it.  I even did exercises every time I got frustrated (so, quite a workout).  I kept the TV off, I kept the iPad upstairs and my phone hidden.  I know that these things wear on my daughters mind.  They make her anxious and keep her mind running with all the noise and all the flashing colors.  She needed to be unplugged today, and so did I.

Sometimes the silence of being unplugged can be harder to fill with patience, because it definitely takes more work, but today, so far, has been an improvement on yesterday…. and that’s really all I’m asking for.

When You Realize You’re In A Rut

I guess it takes getting outside of the rut to realize you were in one.  The problem is when you realize that you inevitably have to go back into the rut.  Once you’re back in… how do you cope?  How do you deal with the memories outside the rut and how much better you felt?  Here, let me explain…

This past weekend I went away with a couple of my lady friends.  We spent a great weekend in the city doing fun, geeky things.  We went a Comic Con type event, we ate great food, we relaxed, we had alcohol, and we danced, and we sang.  It felt great.  I even wore makeup every day and fixed my hair, and wore grown up clothes.

Now I’m back to being mommy.  I answer to the call of the wild humans who control my every moment of daylight.  I do not eat hot food, I do not change out of my pajamas, and I do not rest.  I am back in my rut.  It feels awful to say, but I am.  Even though I’m feeling better emotionally lately (less depression and anxiety), I still feel trapped.  Trapped by the mundane, trapped by the eating schedule, the sleep schedule, the constant neediness that is children.  It’s not their fault they are like this, it’s just how they are, but once you’ve tasted the freedom of the past…. it feels like you’re having to go back to wearing chains.

I’ve even begun to wonder if maybe my husband is bored with me.  Does he hate the mundane life that has been created here too?  Is that why he is always up for guys nights and golf weekends and basketball?  I have always understood, but I guess I really get it now.  The problem with this is that I’m never unsatisfied with my time with my husband. He is my source of calm, of normalcy, of peace.  I’d have the same night with him a million times, then a million more after that, and never get bored.  But my husband is a different person than I am.  He enjoys me (I hope), and he loves the time we spend together (I think), but I know he needs more.  That’s why he  plays around with developing apps, and plays video games after I crash for the night.

I have other things I like to do too, of course.  I crochet and I write, but by the time I’m done spending my quality time with my husband, I’m exhausted.  I guess I could blame life in general for this (kids are crazy exhausting), but I think it’s more my thyroid disorder than anything.  So my day is spent with the kids for 14 hours, then 1.5 hours with my husband, then I sleep.  There is no time to crochet or write… there is nothing left of me.  I’m a mommy and i’m a wife, and nothing else.  I guess this is why I find myself constantly on my phone during the day looking at Pinterest and Instagram.  My way of gazing out the window of my phone into other peoples lives.  People who have time to create, to write, to imagine.

I know one day things will be different.  The kids will be older and in school, then eventually they won’t want anything to do with me…. but that’s not what I want either.  It’s like I somehow want to live in this rut, but be able to fully enjoy it.  To make the rut comfy and happy and new, but I just can’t figure out how to do it.  Maybe venturing outside the rut a little more often can give me the necessary daylight and air to replenish my spirit and give me the strength to fill my rut with love… then, maybe, it just won’t be a rut anymore, but more of just a divot in the road.  A small little something that once tripped me up on my way through life.