A Beautiful Realization

A few months ago I stood in front of a room filled mostly with strangers and shared my story. I wanted to share a piece of myself with these beautiful mothers who attended MOPs (moms of preschoolers) because I thought if it could help just one mama it would be worth being vulnerable. The process of writing what I was going to share was another step in my life long refinement as a follower of Christ. Reliving moments that I sometimes wished to forget. Remembering the pain of the disease. Being shown again that even in my lowest of lows God's still small voice was there. He never left me. 

In honor of mental health awareness month I again share my story. Not to show you how far I've come (the growth will never end), nor to exemplify myself as a poster child of postpartum depression, not even to celebrate the fact that I survived. God is SO much more than the small speck of dust that is my story. This life full of suffering is meaningless if it were not for my beloved Savior who points me again and again to Him and reminds me that the joyful moments of life are just a taste of what is to come.

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As I was trying to figure out what piece of my very complex story I wanted to share with you all today the following statements came to me:

You are enough, He is always there even when you could care less, it wasn’t your fault, it is an illness, you are loved, acceptance leads to peace.

You see the past 7 years have been the most refining of my life thus far. In fall 2012 I left all I had known as a young adult and mama and moved from Connecticut to Lancaster PA. I was 7 months pregnant and had a 2.5-year-old at the time. I left my job and became a stay at home mom overnight. I went from being just outside of NYC to living in a land known for its Amish, its cows and its ice cream. I was desperately alone with no community and changes were being thrown left and right… the perfect petri dish for depression.

Being unable to shake the baby blues a few months after giving birth to my son, I wondered if this is just what life was like with 2 kids. Lifeless, dull, one note, void of joy, sad and constricting. But when my home started to feel like a prison and my interests in working on anything in my life besides keeping my kids relatively happy waned, I knew something else had to be going on. It was then in March of 2013 that I was diagnosed with postpartum depression and anxiety.

It is a tough road to be on... the inability to control feelings can be crippling. The very idea that I was depressed made me feel full of shame. What was I doing wrong? Why couldn’t I just be happy? My life was amazing couldn’t I see that? Isn’t prayer supposed to fix this? Just snap out of it. I felt as though I was trapped in a well of darkness, clinging to a ladder that pointed up to the surface, the numb feeling of sadness threatening to overcome me and the darkness below ready to envelope me. I was fighting for my life and, the hardest part, not blaming myself for where I was at. I was sick. I had to accept over and over again that depression is an illness.

July 2013

Depression is very good at distorting the truth. It manufactures lies. It makes you want to isolate yourself and not tell anyone. It yells that you are worthless. That you’re a burden and those closest to you would be better off without you.

It was in July 2013 that I had a plan to end my life. But God had different plans. His still small voice triggered the courageous warrior woman inside of me to call my husband when I wanted to veer off the road and to then explain to him what else I had planned. Together we made the courageous decision to check me into a psychiatric hospital for 72 hours. And that was the beginning… I had been completely burned down. Now it was time to rebuild. Brick by brick. My experiences through that time changed me forever and I come to you a new and fully formed daughter of God. 

I wish I could tell you that getting through those intense years meant I had paid my dues to the “hard knocks of life fund” and all was smooth sailing after that. But it wasn’t… that’s life… one curve ball after another. I had to accept that I might deal with depression indefinitely, I experienced a miscarriage and a year ago my husband lost his job. We now find ourselves coming full circle… restarting our lives in a new area once again. But one of the things I have learned through this journey is that circumstances change all the time, but God is forever constant and faithful.

I want to end by sharing a poem I wrote about a year after my hospital stay. At this point in my recovery I was extremely angry at God for all of my suffering. And how at times I felt I wasn’t getting any better. It was hard for me to sing at church and I could barely speak to Him. One night as I was wrestling with the this I sat down and wrote this.

A Beautiful Realization

You know who you are

You see her right there

She's the one staring

Her eyes glimmering, Her skin fair

You see every flaw

Every sin

Every shame

But do you see the girl who is no longer in such pain?

Can you look past where you are

To see where you've come from?

You've climbed reach-less mountains

You've discovered the sun!

Don't dwell on the battles that are sure to still come

But turn your head toward the victories you've already won

God has been there too

or would you rather forget?

He is the one who saved you

AND He's not finished yet

So open your eyes my dear beloved one.

Give yourself mercy...

Give yourself the Son

Beauty and strength

Courage and might

They have all helped you win

Helped you fight the good fight

Now look again

See the girl who has come so far

You can do this, you can beat this

You are who you are

Beauty HE made you

Beauty HE sees

And He is real, He is there

He comes to you like the warm ocean breeze

Hope for a Hopeless Day

6 years ago, my battle with postpartum depression started.

4 years ago, I recognized and accepted depression would be something that may never leave me.

3 months ago, I was injured and had to stop running after being consistent for 1.5 years… running helped me fight those dark days. I credited running to feeling the best I had felt, mentally and physically, in 6 years.

I lost running around the time I lost my dog. I lost running around the time the reality of our move had settled in. I lost running when the cold stark grey days of my first northern Illinois winter moved in.

I was so fearful of what was next. Was I going to dip into the darkness for longer periods of time without my running? Was I going to start obsessively worrying about my body image? Was I strong enough to find other ways to help my spirits? Would I lose all that I had worked for the last 18 months?

“WHY GOD!? WHY? Why did you take away the ONE thing that I thought you gave me to fight? The one thing that stayed constant in my life after so many changes? The one thing that I could turn to and know would always give me the boost I needed?”

And yet… Jesus Himself was all of that. He IS all of that. I have been reminded over these past months that it is not the running that saves me and that helps me grow stronger… it is the acceptance that “when I am weak, He is strong.”

This morning was tough. We’ve been struggling with sickness in our house again which carries its own bag of difficulties… exhaustion, isolation, loneliness, restlessness. These can be triggers for me, especially the feeling of being closed in and stuck. It is so easy to let my mind race back to my past struggles when triggered if I am not careful. As I drove to drop the older kids off at school the day loomed before me like an endless chasm. The stabbing physical pain of emptiness kept punching me in the heart. How could I do this day? Hopelessness started to overwhelm my mind and my years of training “what to do when down” kicked in.

Running.

Nope can’t do that.

Visiting my friends?

I am still in the baby stages of forming friendships.

And in that moment, I had a choice. I could choose to throw a massive pity party for myself and let my emotions and feelings entrench me, or I could choose to do something else. God gave me the strength to do the latter because if it was fully up to me, I would have started to blow up the balloons.

The sun was deceptively bright and though it was only 25 degrees I decided to take a walk. Making a mental note not to look at the clock, I started to gather layers of clothing for Colin and I.  This reminded me of the joy that mindfulness can bring… the way being right here and right now allows for the pain of hopelessness to melt away.  

As I started to walk down the street with Colin on my back and the sun shinning brightly on my face,

I took a deep breath in and no longer felt trapped. Blood pumped through my very alive body and I was thankful to be here sharing this time with my son. After a mile I asked Colin if he was cold and wanted to go home to which he vehemently replied “NO!” Smiling, we marveled at the beauty of the frozen ponds, spotted robins which brought with them the hope of spring and giggled as I carefully stepped over ice patches.

Walking back into the house I felt so much lighter. God’s beauty and the reality that I was strong enough to have chosen to seek it filled me with hope. The joy in the present moment helped carry me the rest of the day. 

I will run again and when I do I will glorify God. I will feel down again and when I do I will remember that He is strong. The cold of darkness feels awful but the warmth of the sun will come again.

Take hope! You are not alone!

You are there

It's hard to not let myself think back 6 years ago on this night without some trepidation. The night before my second child was born just hours into the next day. The night that changed everything in my life. I wish I could run to that young woman, laboring in her home, hold her tight and say "you are going to get through what is to come, you are going to make it. Many times you will feel forsaken by God, but He never left your side."

You have searched me, LORD, and you know me.

A few months before Nolan was born we made life altering changes. I left my job, became a stay at home mom and moved away from my friends and my life in Connecticut. I felt so alone and foreign in the beautiful fields of Lancaster. I remember crying almost everyday from the exhaustion of being pregnant and feeling like a failure as Mikayla and I tried to get used to spending all day together. I was frantically putting myself into every opportunity I could find to meet friends before the baby came and felt all the more distant when friendships didn't bloom overnight. It was overwhelming. It was stifling.

You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. 

You discern my going out and my lying down; You are familiar with all my ways. 

The day my sweet baby boy was born I remember gazing out my window at a tractor plowing the field next to the hospital and feeling listless. It seemed so wrong to be feeling that way when I was holding new life and joy in my arms, my heart double the size it was the day before. Those first few weeks were a blur of sleepless nights, adjustment, small victories and a slight heaviness that seemed to have settled itself in the recesses of my chest.

Before a word is on my tongue you, LORD, know it completely. 

You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me. 

Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, 

too lofty for me to attain. 

I used to get angry that postpartum depression took over after that. I used to feel robbed of my life during those years... I still do at times. The following 2 years, Nolan's birthday was a reminder of how far I hadn't gotten. That I was still depressed. That I still thought my family was better off without me. The lies were still speaking. My trust in God had faltered. A time that was supposed to be filled with joy and celebration had a dark cloud over it. For so long I wanted to yell and shake that young naïve woman..."You are about to go into hell, why did you let yourself get to this point, what are all of the things that you did wrong to deserve this fate, how could you have ever thought life was going to be good!?"

Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? 

If I go up to the heavens; you are there. If I make my bed in the depths, you are there. 

If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, 

even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.

But then a small light shone through. Nolan's third birthday approached. I was anxious that I would tailspin into weeks of darkness. Two weeks before I had miscarried our precious baby and was still grieving the loss. I didn't know what to expect. The day before Nolan's birthday came and I didn't feel the heaviness, hopelessness and despair that my depression liked to lasso me with. Instead I felt light. For the first time since his birth I was able to truly celebrate. 

If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me," even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.

Here I am now. And as I was 6 years ago, living in a new State which is widely different from the Lancaster I grew to love. Once again I am without my life and community that was created so beautifully out of the ashes. But unlike the precious young woman of that night, I am here with a renewed spirit. God took me from the nothingness I became from my suffering and helped build me into a stronger, more empathetic and wiser person. I am still broken, I still have my days of mistrust and fear, but I know that He has done a good work in me. And for that I praise Him. 

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. 

Tomorrow while the kids yell who gets what piece of cake, argue about whose present gets opened first and sing at the top of their lungs... I am going to stop and savor the gift of the day. I am here to live another day. I am here to feel the warmth of Nolan's cheeks as I engulf my sweet boy in kisses. I am here because God saved me and He still has so much left to do in my life. To God be the glory for all the great things He has done!

Psalm 139:1-14

Owning It

I was standing in my friend Margaret's kitchen shortly before we moved to Illinois when she remarked, "ElisaBeth you are a runner" to which I replied "um no" to which she replied "um yes" with a look that would not let me go until I begrudgingly replied "ok fine I guess I'm a runner." She looked triumphant.

I have found the overwhelming theme of my 36th year to be "owning it"... owning my confidence, my beauty, my strength and the truths in my life. I spent so much time rebuilding myself the last 5 years that I haven't stopped to see the amazing progress God has done in my life. Allowing myself to be proud of who I am is a very foreign concept, one which I am slowly learning to embrace. I am so grateful to friends, like Margaret, who often remind me and remain SO patient with my growth.

A few months ago my therapist asked me to find a "token" of what exemplifies my beauty. I have been mulling it over for weeks and weeks and I could not come up with anything... until today.

Running!!

Not exactly a token, but something I can look at in this season of life as my saving grace, a picture of what beauty and strength is to me and something I have followed through with.

A year and a half ago I sat down and opened up my journal to a page that asked for a list of dreams that would make this year the "best ever." I hadn't let myself think past tomorrow for 4 years. Getting through each day seemed like a feat in itself and even conversations about the weekend would send me into panic. I was finally at a place where I could think about tomorrow and not get overwhelmed. Think about tomorrow and not feel the immense heaviness of depression that would surely come when I awoke in the morning. It was exciting and freeing. And besides these were dreams... so the pressure was off if they didn't all come true.

my dreams

I wrote the list and one of the dreams was to run consistently for 1 year. I knew how much running helped my depression and  mental health in the past (check out my post Panic Made Me Run) and I wanted be consistent again and this time not stop. This was a way to challenge and help myself at the same time!

16 months and an estimated 630+ miles later I am still running and will be running my farthest distance race to date in 3 weeks. This last year has been filled with SO many challenges and unknowns and running as been my one constant. Putting on my shoes, listening to my breath and my feet hit the pavement and taking time for myself has been empowering and has given me the best mental health year since 2010.

In the past, the kind of curve balls life has thrown our family this year would have sent me into panic attacks and weeks of feeling down... instead I am equipped to use the tools I have learned to help me in those dark moments. Running has made it possible to quickly access the tool box.

The girl who wasn't sure she would be able to live another day battling her depression... made it. The girl whose saw herself as nothing... sees her worth. The girl who felt ugly inside and out... now catches glimpses of her beauty. The girl who didn't know if she believed in God anymore... understands His role in her life so much more then ever before. The girl who never thought she would run... RUNS!

Summer

It's the summer. That means 3 kids, all day, all the time. A new thing for us. I'd love to write more,

but it's a miracle I have a moment to stop at all today amidst packing for our first vacation as a family of 5.

I'll just say this... these past few weeks have made me feel like I have never worked harder in my life. But in reality I have... I worked to save my life through my depression and that work started almost 4 years ago to the day. I'm not reminding myself of this to diminish the feelings I'm having now, but to bring empowerment that I am stronger then I have ever been.  Praises to God for all He has given me and gotten me through!

Going going all day long.

No time to sing my own song.

Little hands and little feet.

Guiding, teaching, keeping sweet.

Moments of pure joy and fear.

Moments of how did I get here.

Will I raise them up to love?

Will I raise them to know the one above?

Overwhelmed and always tired.

Fact is I'll never be fired.

Hearts so pure, so open, so true.

Little lips saying "I love you."

It is a season, a blip in time.

Slowly speeding... but it is mine.

The Rainbow

Being pregnant after a miscarriage has been a completely different experience for me. I approached my first two pregnancies with a sort of naive sense of wonder. Unbridled joy and entitlement were my friends and I went about life without even pausing to let my mind go "there".

My third pregnancy was different... it had been almost three years since I had been pregnant and I felt anxious. I had seen precious friends lose their babies and I knew much more of life's suffering. I had been joyful for those few weeks and yet I had moments where I felt that my sweet baby would not live here on earth with me. I had to continuously remind myself that I was not in control! And when that ever so small, but ever so precious life left me... a small part of me left as well. I never realized how someone so small could so deeply effect me.

Today was my third prenatal visit, but I was still extremely nervous. I have been having trouble accepting that everything is going to be ok this time... that the baby is in fact going to make it and at times... that he/she is still alive. Hope has seemed like something I wasn't allowed to have... I was safer without it.

It felt like time stood still while I waited for the midwife to place the doppler on my belly. I half expected not to hear anything... and then in what felt like an eternity, but was only a moment, the sweet sound of my baby's heartbeat drumming happily away was heard. I could tell the midwife sensed the relief that flooded over me in that moment. As he took my hand to help me sit up he spoke with sincerity "You have been forever changed by your loss... not only do you have the realization that a baby can be easily lost, but that you yourself can experience it." And in that moment I was able to again accept that my feelings of fear were ok. And then move on...

A few weeks ago as I sat staring at my growing belly I was struck with fear and frustration. I was missing someone I had never met... how could I possibly start to love another? How could I even begin to allow myself to remember that God was good after my other baby was taken away? And then a sure small voice said...

I am with you, your baby is in my hands

But God my other baby was in your hands and he/she will never be with me on earth

Yes but that baby was never meant for this earth and instead is with me now and will never have to face fear, disease or pain. It is ok to hope. I know your heart.

Peace washed over me... I was reminded how even when I was so so angry at God for my depression

and feeling completely abandoned... that he was there with me through it all. That I am now a person who I NEVER thought I would be. Confident in Christ who made me! There is no shame in hoping, in believing that this baby is going to be ok... that I will be ok. 

Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. 2 Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. 3 Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, 4 and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, 5 and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. - Romans 5: 1-5

Climb Out of the Darkness

I bought this after my time in the hospital
"she was grateful for the brightness of being alive"

I was diagnosed with postpartum depression two years ago. Little did I know that when I took that first step to get help I was one of ONLY 15% of the MILLION women in the US who has taken that step! When I chose to push aside the shame and embarrassment that I felt of being a new mom of two whose "loving high" of motherhood had somehow flickered in a moment and was replaced with extreme darkness, I had no idea my courageous steps were saving my life.

Suicide is one of the leading causes of death in the first year postpartum. The stigma of maternal mental illness is glaring us in the face and many women have struggled alone and in silence... because of this many have lost their lives.

Since writing about my own experiences with PPD and anxiety I have been astounded by the number of friends who have reached out to me to share their own pain. So many of them felt they were alone in their suffering. So many found the courage to seek help. The ability to look beyond what you "should" be like to what is truth... that you may have an illness... is a VERY hard thing to do.

A friend recently shared information on an event that I am looking forward to participating in this June. It is called the Climb Out of Darkness. Here is what it is...

Postpartum Progress’ Climb Out of the Darkness® is the world’s largest event raising awareness of maternal mental illnesses like postpartum depression, postpartum anxiety & OCD, postpartum PTSD, postpartum psychosis, postpartum bipolar disorder, and pregnancy depression and anxiety.

Climb Out of the Darkness is held on or near the longest day of the year annually to help shine the most light on perinatal mood and anxiety disorders. The event features mothers and others across the globe joining together to climb mountains and hike trails to represent their symbolic rise out of the darkness of maternal mental illness and into the light of hope and recovery.

For more information on the climb and the amazing organization behind it click here. 

Love my motivational jewelry!
"Be... free, courageous, at peace, true, brave, strong, thankful"

I decided to participate in the climb for two reasons:

First to bring awareness and to help chip away at the stigma. There is nothing to be ashamed of! Women need to know this and they also need to be aware of the signs of postpartum mental disorders. Professionals also need to be aware of how they can help. I had to see may different nurses, doctors and therapists before I found the ones that were truly able to help me and understand what was really going on with me. Possibly with more awareness this may not have to be the case for others...

The second reason is for myself. I have fought hard against this illness. Very hard. There are still difficult days but I have come SO very far. I thank God for bringing me through this time... for helping me climb this mountain. I thank God for giving me an amazing husband, friends and family. I am such a different person because of this experience and I like who I see. I want to celebrate that!

Will you join me and support me in my climb? You can donate by clicking here. 

And again here is the information on what your money will do. Thank you so much!! Let's see what else God has in store for me as I use my story and my struggles for His glory.

A Balancing Act

Balancing the littles!

The balance beam of life... ah what a tricky thing it is. Throw in a long bout of depression and anxiety and cross your fingers that your multiple tumbles off won't cause you to just want to give up. After so many turbulent tumbles it is hard to remember what the balance beam looks like, much less how to walk forward on it. Tilt too far to the left and you aren't doing enough, tilt too far too the right and you are doing too much, stop dead in the middle and you are just... stuck. Stuck thinking it was so much easier to balance BEFORE... or maybe since I was just unaware of myself and who I was... it was much easier to pretend to balance... to convince myself that I had it, that I understood how life was supposed to go.

Today I stand on the balance beam once again feeling confident and able some days, wobbly and weak others, ready to walk forward in a somewhat steady fashion. Trying to remember the feel of staying upright and yet walking with a whole new understanding of myself and learning how that feels.

Here is a very small glimpse into my balancing struggles... the middle point is where I'd love to be all the time.

On exercising:

• I want to be a blob and eat chocolate
• I want to run for ME! Because it makes ME feel good!
• I want to exercise and watch my food because that is what I have to do because if I don't I will not have a good body shape and look at all those others and how they look!  I need to COUNT every calorie and exercise EVERY DAY and if I don't THAT IS BAD!

On being a mom:

• I don't want to be a mom today! I just want to let them run a muck and watch tv!
• Lets read together, play together, go outside, have quiet time, watch a few shows... just be
• PROJECTS, CRAFTS, LEARNING, FIELD TRIPS, NON STOP TIME TOGETHER

On my depression/anxiety:

• I feel so down, why do I still feel depressed some days!? I don't want to do anything! And I am so anxious I can't even breath... why am I STILL dealing with days like this!?
• Hey... I still deal with being sick sometimes... and it's OK... I love you ElisaBeth... it's here but you don't have to dwell in it... one step at a time
• IM OK IM OK IM OK IM OK IM OK IM OK IM OK NO IM NOT NO IM NOT NO IM NOT

Bring it on balance beam! I know I am not going to be right on the mark every day and I know that tumbles will still come but I am thankful for this journey. I am thankful that I am able to get back up on the beam. I am thankful that I don't have to balance alone... God is with me and all I need to do is look to Him and my soul will be steadied and empowered to keep on going.

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. 

R-E-S-P-E-C-T!

Last Friday night I found myself amidst 700+ people in the middle of a field in "Amish paradise" Pennsylvania. I definitely felt out of my element amongst the gobs of people (many Amish) who were all psyching up to run a 5K down tree and corn-lined country roads and through a field normally reserved for tractors.

Gulping in air pungent with farmland, the Amish pasta party and fuel from the burners filling up hot air balloons, I tried to calm my anxiety and remember why I was running...

SELF RESPECT 

A few months ago I was challenged by my counselor to find something that would be symbolic of the self respect I was building within myself. I started running back in April and along with the obvious physical energy it has given me, the mental clarity has been refreshing.

Ready to DO this!

Typically my type of running requires me alone, on a road, with nothing but the wind in my ears and a tune in my head to keep my pace up and my thoughts out. My jogging/running has been pressure free and 100% for myself.

My challenge for this 5K was to keep the pressure out while reminding myself that I was building:

pride and confidence in oneself; a feeling that one is behaving with honor and dignity...

As well as celebrating the fact that I was doing something I NEVER thought I would... that in itself

was confidence building!

And so with all of that on my mind I lined up with the hundreds of people waiting for the starting shot. Dhrumil and the kids were on the sidelines cheering me on and the friend who had encouraged me to sign up was right beside me. I was ready!

my crazy sprint

The energy and exhilaration that comes from running with so many people was astounding. I felt light as I ran... all judgements, pressures and anxieties floated up up and away, vanishing past the hot air balloons overhead. 

There were two times during that last mile when I was hit by cramps in my side, but my determination to continue running helped me charge on. I kept telling myself "SELF RESPECT" and "JUST CONQUER IT LIKE YOU HAVE BEEN CONQUERING PPD!"Coming up to the finish line I was overcome with crazy energy and hearing the cheers from Mikayla and Dhrumil I sprinted to the end. 

I did it... I showed myself respect and love. I finished the race... and I did it with dignity and honor. I pray I can use this illustration going forward. Each new hurdle life throws can be mastered God's grace, love and pride and confidence in myself.

Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it.

But one thing I do: Forgetting what lies behind and straining toward what is ahead,

I press on toward the goal to win the prize 

for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus

Philippians 3: 13-14

Praying my kids see God's confidence in them so they can see it in themselves!

A Search for the Truth

Being a believer of Christ since I was four years old, and having a personal relationship with Him every day since, does not seem to merit the title of this post. And yet... here it is.

Here I am.

It used to be as easy as knowing God, trusting God, fully believing in God... and that was that. And that is still how it is for most people I know.

Tim Keller  has said "Suffering awakens us out of our haunted sleep of spiritual sufficiency into a serious search for the divine."

When I read this quote a sense of relief calmed my anxious soul. It is ok to question. It is ok to search
for the truth. I still believed, and yet I wasn't 100% anymore. What did my relationship with God mean anymore? I had felt so abandoned by God in my darkest hours that I could no longer trust that He is who He says He is.

Message on a parking garage wall... I found it when I needed to

Lately... ok more like the past 10 months... I have been doing some major soul searching. My soul searching usually goes like this:

• Feel anger towards God about my depression and all associated with it
• Unable to speak to God
• Must force self to go to church, to talk about God, to make it like all was ok with Him
• God speaks through someone or something and it makes me think
• I talk it out to Dhrumil or anyone I feel will listen with an open mind
• I move a little closer back in the direction of Him
• I have a setback
• Feel anger towards God about my depression and all associated with it

You get the general idea...

Where I get confused about this soul searching journey is when I read over my posts early on in my diagnosis of PPD. They are full of suffering and yet they are also full of hope and trust in God. I was THANKFUL for my depression and I felt there was a REASON to it and I knew that God was with me. It wasn't until many months into it, when I started to mentally feel better, that the anger began.

Which brings me to last night, my incessant questioning and my latest challenge... what is the point to all of this suffering? Is it even worth living in such a horrible place? God what is the POINT to this life?

I saw the movie The Giver and it got me thinking... more like sat in the car after I saw it and stared into oblivion for good long while. And then I drove to the bookstore and sat in the bookstore and stared into oblivion for a good long while.

Do you see things in black and white? Wouldn't it be easier that way? No one would judge the color of one's skin. Life's rules would be understood. You do or you don't. Order would reign supreme.

What about the Bible? It could be interpreted in one way and one way only... every passage would be completely understood and every person would understand it in the way it was "supposed" to be understood. There would be no gray, no blurring, just clarity.

I will spare you the "book review" but the basic gist of the movie is that a community sees in black and white, they have been "spared" of all pain and suffering and they all go about their business in contentment and near perfection. The thing is that they have also been "spared" what love and true joy is.

I won't ruin the ending, but this was my takeaway:

With all of the crap in the world... the horrors... there is joy and love and so much to experience and through these experiences we still can see the true beauty of life. We were given choices, but there is also just life that doesn't come from choice, but just comes from living in a fallen world. But those moments of joy and love... those moments that give us glimpses of heaven and a tiny bit of what God's love is like... it makes it all worth it.

Black and white would not give you this. Clarity would not give you this. Like Mother Theresa said "I have never had clarity; what I have always had is trust."

I have trust that this where I am supposed to be in my journey. Trust that hope can once more reign supreme. And trust that I will once again run into the arms of my Savior.

Next Steps

I have categorized the past two years of my life, indicating some of my feelings during those times, as such:

• Pre-Pennsylvania (Working mom of 1, stable and happy but ready for a change) 2012
• Pre-baby Pennsylvania (Stay at home mom of 1, lonely and isolated and trying to adjust while throwing myself into every possible activity to meet people) September 2012 - December 2012
• Post-baby/pre-PPD identified (Stay at home mom of 2, lonely and trying to figure out parenting 2 kids while feeling intensely overwhelmed and numb) December 2012 - March 2013
• Post-baby PPD identified (Losing self, trying to fit into new life, grappling with diagnosis) March 2013 - June 2013
• Intense PPD (Chaos in the mind, a blur, loss of time, crisis mode) June 2013 - September 2013
• Rebuilding myself with PPD (Trying to put the pieces of myself back together including the new pieces that I came across through intense therapy and learning to live with my illness) September 2013 - February 2014
• Post intense PPD/Moving forward (No longer in survival mode, learning what it's like to be feeling better for the first time as a stay at home mom of 2 with friends and a life in PA) February 2014 - present

Wow... when I look at all I have gone through written out like that... I really want to just give myself a big hug and also give myself grace. That statement in-itself is a HUGE testament to how far I have come and how much I have changed. I have never been one to give myself grace even in the midst of such horrible suffering that was out of my control. I am so thankful that I now see clearly. 

Lately I have been having experiences which normally would be no big deal, but I see as huge next steps. These experiences haven't happened since "pre-Pennsylvania" times and therefore feel brand new. I recently accomplished one...

This past weekend I flew to Nashville to see a dear friend get married. When the invitation first came in the mail I knew without a doubt that I would be going; however I didn't think through the ramifications of where I was at (Post intense PPD) and when I had last flown alone (Pre-Pennsylvania) Dhrumil planned out all of the logistics for me (because he had realized the huge step I was taking even if I hadn't) and even printed out a wonderful itinerary and booked a gorgeous hotel. 

A few days before my flight I started to feel intensely anxious and overwhelmed by the slightest details of the trip having no idea how I was going to pull it off. The cycle of fear and doubt crept in which led to annoyance and frustration at myself. Pre-Pennsylvania I didn't have a problem with this! Pre-Pennsylvania I went on business trips alone including one while pregnant with Nolan overseas with a stop in Amsterdam to sightsee ALONE! How could I be freaking out about this!? Then I remembered that I was a new person, still fragile in my delicate newly adjusted skin. I had to give myself grace and love and remind myself that I was ready for this next step.

The trip was truly amazing. My therapist had challenged me to not take on too much during this short trip (ie. sightseeing, go go GOING) and go for the purpose of the wedding and that was it. I have been learning that I take on way too much and push myself to un-human expectations thus leaving me an empty shell with hardly anything left for my family, let alone myself. And so I took her challenge and let me just say I learned a huge lesson on what taking on just enough means. Some of what I did:

• Drove to Philly, took parking shuttle, took plane, took shuttle to hotel, took taxi, took limo, hailed

  

  Me and the beautiful bride Dara

  taxi amidst the super drunk people of Nashville, took taxi to airport next day, took plane, took shuttle, drove car home
• Went with the flow
• Read magazines
• Started a new book
• Took a nap
• Ate slowly at the hotel restaurant while reading
• Took multiple showers and washed my hair every time (yes this is huge when you are a mama)
• Spent precious hours with my friend while she got ready for the wedding
• Was filled with joy at seeing her marry and had fun meeting her friends
• Slept in
• Had breakfast in bed
• Came home tired but not TOO TIRED for my family and was not overwhelmed going into the week

And so here I am. Proud of myself for accomplishing a next step. I have been through a ton, but I am moving forward! I am slowly toughening up my new skin and loving myself in it.

I didn't want to leave the bed! ;-)

A Beautiful Realization

It has been a struggle for me the past few weeks. The terminology would be "setback" but I hate saying that. It's as if I have been rebuilding myself brick by brick this past year and a bunch of bricks were just flicked off. So hard to build, so easy to tear down.

I believe I have been pretty open about my struggles with God these past months. As I have been reminded... those who have suffered greatly are bound to have a faith crisis at some point. It has been extremely hard to see God's role in my depression... especially in the setbacks. Of late I've been feeling abandoned by Him.

Coming up in the next few months are poignant anniversaries, if you will, of the worst moments in my depression. The first is next week. The knowledge of these anniversaries have put me on edge... the memories flood me like a dam that has been unleashed. These memories, along with the "setbacks," have given me an extremely negative outlook right now and further distrust towards God.

Today I was having a conversation with a dear friend who reminded me how incredibly far I have come this year. Her observation along with the conversations with my therapist and Dhrumil this week seemed to come together as I mulled them over in my head.

And then as I was I about to go to sleep last night the following poem came to me. Tears ran down my face as my own pen spoke the truth of the matter...

I have not been abandoned by God.
And I never will be abandoned by Him.

A Beautiful Realization

You know who you are

You see her right there

She's the one staring

Her eyes glimmering, Her skin fair

You see every flaw

Every sin

Every shame

But do you see the girl who is no longer in such pain?

Can you look past where you are

To see where you've come from?

You've climbed reach-less mountains

You've discovered the sun!

Don't dwell on the battles that are sure to still come

But turn your head toward the victories you've already won

God has been there too

or would you rather forget?

He is the one who saved you

AND He's not finished yet

So open your eyes my dear beloved one.

Give yourself mercy...

Give yourself the Son

Beauty and strength

Courage and might

They have all helped you win

Helped you fight the good fight

Now look again

See the girl who has come so far

You can do this, you can beat this

You are who you are

Beauty HE made you

Beauty HE sees

And He is real, He is there

He comes to you like the warm ocean breeze

Panic Made Me Run

Who would have thought learning how to control my anxiety/depression and panic attacks would teach me how to run?

I have never been one for exercise. And I have definitely never been one for playing sports. Gym time and I have had a rocky relationship spanning almost 25 years. It was the fifth grade when I realized I couldn't quite kick the ball like the other kids. That led to the ninth grade where I was picked last for every team sport and overheard a kid complaining to the teacher that he didn't want me on his basketball team. Then on to the "fun" ultimate frisbee games my friends wanted me to participate in during my college years... all I ended up doing was huffing and puffing from one end of the field to the other. Oh the volleyball nightmares, the kick ball nightmares, the throwing a football nightmares, the running the mile in high school nightmares (I was always the second to last kid to finish.)

awkwardness at its finest via ballet costume
circa '95

Was I a couch potato? No way... I was always riding my bike somewhere. I was involved in classical ballet until 19... some say ballet dancers are the toughest athletes out there.  I could never be that kid who felt confident in the gym and unless the sport was archery... just leave me be!

I bring up my past because I feel it has something to do with how I looked at the gym in my adulthood... doesn't the past always have a way of creeping into our now? Anyways fast forward to age 26... the french fries and ice cream didn't just magically disappear anymore. It was time to get healthy... I had to begin exercising. Dhrumil signed us up for the gym... I went once after being dragged...it was awful. I couldn't bounce up and down on a machine I didn't know how to use a mere two feet away from some stranger. I went with a DVD at home.

Fast forward again (two kids later) to last summer... the Doctors said exercise would be good for my mental health. We signed up for the gym again. This time I didn't feel so self-conscience... I figured out the machine and I too bounced up and down... trying to ignore those next to me. But it was still work to me... horrible dreadful no fun work. And then it just became too much to drag myself there. And so me and exercise had another hiatus.

Funny how certain ideas/people/activities may pass you by multiple times in your life but you may not click with them until the time is right. How many times had I tried cheesecake and it wasn't for me, but now I love it? How many times did I roll my eyes at the chore of planting flowers, but now look forward to it? What about an acquaintance I had years ago who has now become a good friend? I could go on and on...

This is how it is with me and running.

Last year around this time I wrote a post about starting to run... running and I have had a hate-hate relationship. It has been a once in a 5 year thing for me... never lasting past the first day. It kinda went hand in hand with the hating the playing sports/gym thing. I could never get past the mental block that I wasn't good at it, thinking the feeling of burning lungs would never go away and feeling people were looking at me as I ran.

But then something happened. I decided it was time to get healthy... ever since I had Nolan I have been working insanely hard to just get back to a healthy mental place. Now that I'm somewhat there I knew it would be good for my mind and body to get exercise and to maybe try to lose those last few pounds. I told Dhrumil I was going to start running to which he just looked at me.... rightly so as he was well aware of my track record. But then with an encouraging yet cautious smile he replied... go do it!

And I did!

The timing was right. Me and running clicked. Everything I have learned in overcoming my mental obstacles found there way into my mind and set my feet into motion. It has now been a little over a month and I have run close to 5 days a week.

My recipe for success?

Third day running in a row... "hey maybe I can do this"

1. The pressure is OFF! 
There is no set time, no set route, you are doing this for you! Whatever you need today your body will do.

2. Focus!
Put the mental blinders on, concentrate on you, who cares who sees you, you know you are doing great!

3. Concentrate!
Don't worry about making it up the next hill, just think about your breathing, sing a song in your head, listen to the wind, contemplate life and where you are at, think positively

4. Be NOW!
You are here, you are you, no worrying

5. Don't Panic!
WAIT you're running!? You HATE running!? No don't panic, its ok, just breath, just relax, just BE

Whenever I finish a run... no matter how far or how long... I feel a great sense of accomplishment. If I had to stop for a few seconds to walk... no problem. If I took a shorter route... who cares. I got out, I did it for me, I am empowered.

Running has been a good reminder of what trials in life can do to you. They can make you stronger, they can make you wiser and they can push you to be you and to accomplish things you never thought possible!