Thursday, March 19, 2015

The Final Night of 32

I've finally come to it... I've come to the point in life where I've forgotten my age. I was having a conversation with Mikayla about my birthday and I completely blanked on how old I would be. I almost started counting from the year I was born, but after Mikayla said...  "you will be 22? (HA!) 23? NO! 33!" I remembered... it was in fact true... 33.

My last "normal" birthday was when I turned 30. All the possibilities of a new era were at my finger tips. I was ready and excited to see what was going to come of being "thirty, flirty and thriving." I was somewhat naive to real suffering. This was a year before the storm hit. 

It was two years ago this very evening that I figured out I had postpartum depression. The next day, on my 31st birthday, I felt special and celebrated and yet I also felt weighted down by the realization that there was something wrong with me. Understanding I was sick... that I had to get help... that I had to push away the shame and feelings of not being able to "handle" life. I had no idea how tough of a battle I was starting against this illness and against myself. 

And so I sit here... two years later. Anniversaries of things that have happened relating to my depression have been tough. I've been told they will get easier. Today's anniversary is a little easier this year then last. And so in that I find hope. Hope that maybe someday these years of struggle will be a fleeting memory... maybe someday I can help women in a similar situation... maybe someday I can truly embrace the reason God chose this path for me.

I already see glimpses in the ashes... I am stronger. I am wiser. I am more courageous. I am more sensitive. I am me. 

2 comments:

Liz Danielsen said...

For some it takes a life time to be "me" so you truly have found the answer to life. Being "me" means I am comfortable in my own skin and I am pleased with the way God made me. He does not make junk. I think my card that I sent you says Happy 31 so to me you will always be younger than you are and I am so very proud of you. Love you. Tante Liz

Flashman85 said...

Happy birthday!

I've been going through a mighty powerful storm of fear, anxiety, and stress that may not be postpartum depression, but is definitely the most miserable I've been for any appreciable length of time.

It's been almost two months of fighting and praying, but I can feel myself getting better in little ways all the time. I've identified what makes me worse and what makes me better, focused on the things I know how to fix, and started to rebuild a foundation on my own terms.

I am stronger than my fear, anxiety, and stress. I am fearfully and wonderfully made. And I am reclaiming my life one piece at a time, allowing others to be a blessing to me while I struggle, allowing my suffering to be a blessing to others, and allowing myself to see God's purpose in all this.

You will pull through this, and you will be stronger for it.