It was about a year ago that I admitted that I was seeing someone to help me with anxiety and depression. (Remember me leaving the shopping cart full of groceries at the store?) It has been over a year, and I finally feel like I can talk about what happened next.
I went to the therapist, twice. After two times, we both decided that I had a lot of good things going in my life, and that I didn't need to see her anymore, unless I really felt like it. I didn't. I felt good, except for one week in the month, and that was completely hormonal. Over the next few months I worked on using the "tools" that the therapist had given me, and I could tell a slight difference. I started working out more, and tried to sleep on a normal schedule. You know, all the things that are supposed to cure whatever ails you?
Then in December, things started getting worse. I felt sad most of the time. I had a hard time sleeping, and I had really bad days. One day I sat in the hall while the kids were playing, and just cried. I felt all alone. I sat there with my phone, waiting for someone to call, text, or e-mail me to let me know they cared. I was praying with all my heart that someone would reach out. I was praying for anything to change. Nothing happened. I felt betrayed. Not so much by people, but by a Heavenly Father that had left me alone. I had a hard time believing that God could not get someone to reach out to me to let me know that I would be okay. I felt miserably alone and angry.
The next little while continued like that. I told Ben that something needed to change. I did not want to cry and be sad anymore. I hated it. I hated what it was doing to me, I hated that my kids were watching me cry all the time, and I hated that Ben wanted to help, but couldn't do anything.
I knew what I needed to do. I needed to try medication. However, I was terrified. I was terrified of the side effects. I was worried that the medication wouldn't work, and I was terrified that I NEEDED medication. I always told people, "if you need anti-depresants, take them, if that is what works." I could tell others that, but I couldn't convince myself.
I went to the doctor, and I walked out with the prescription in my hand. It took me two weeks to get it filled.
On the first day I took the medication, after a few hours, I felt a change. I called Ben immediately and told him that I was happy. It was a good day.
I was finally me again.
Even after I started medication, I struggled with why I was left so alone, and why a Heavenly Father that loves me would not give me some sort of help, when I felt I needed it the most. Then last week, I read this article. The entire article is amazing, and I would suggest reading it. This is the paragraph that changed my thoughts:
Challenges often come in multiple doses applied simultaneously. When those trials are not consequences of your disobedience, they are evidence that the Lord feels you are prepared to grow more (see Prov. 3:11–12). He therefore gives you experiences that stimulate growth, understanding, and compassion which polish you for your everlasting benefit. To get you from where you are to where He wants you to be requires a lot of stretching, and that generally entails discomfort and pain.
I don't know why things happened the way they did. I am not going to speculate, it would not change anything. What I do know is that the last year has changed me. I have a lot more love and a lot less judgements for people. I feel normal. I can handle and even LOVE life.
*There may be some who read this that are uncomfortable- that's okay. I also know that there might be one person who reads it and doesn't feel so alone. If you need help, please get it. If you feel there might be someone who needs a call, a text, or an e-mail - do it. You never know, you might be a miracle for someone.
