It felt like a cloud was following me around; suffocating me, and holding me down. Housework fell by the wayside and I became a shell of my once fun-loving, bubbly self. I was just going through the motions and doing the bare minimum to get by.
I would be driving to work and see the ‘perfect’ tree to ram my car into. I stared at the railing upstairs, picking out the spot to hang from. I knew this was not normal, but it became my new normal.
I became a master at hiding it from the world too. It appeared via social media from fun parties I would throw and gatherings I would attend, that my life was picture-perfect. On the outside I had it all together, on the inside, I felt broken.
There is Hope
Fast forward [three] months being on antidepressants and I feel like an entirely different person. I feel like myself again, and I can finally breathe. For the first time in months, I feel hopeful. I thank God I am still here and able to enjoy my children’s giggles and hugs. I feel proud that even on my darkest day, I mustered the last scrap of strength I had to make that phone call for help.
To anyone struggling with the internal battle of getting help, I urge you to. YOU and your children are so worthy and deserving of happiness, and regardless of how it feels, there IS hope — even in the darkness.
