Last night I attended an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting as part of my coursework for group therapy. I sat quietly in the back as members read from the AA book and shared their experiences with addiction and recovery. "We must be careful not to drift into worry, remorse or morbid reflection, that would diminish our usefulness to others," was read aloud and instantly I knew why God had orchestrated my being there. This sentence was what I needed to hear. This one sentence is what God had been pounding into my head for months.
I was only recently diagnosed with depression, though looking back over my like I can very clearly pinpoint several times I was in the midst of a depressive state. I never saw a counselor as a child and when I was in college I began dating and eventually marrying someone who was unsupportive of the counseling process. I was 25 the first time I sought help in this area and did so again over the next few years with divorce, remarriage and the birth of my son.
About a year ago I went to see a counselor. I was 10 pounds below my pre-pregnancy weight and extremely anxious. I was working full time, a new mommy, newly wed and living with my in-laws. It was the perfect storm of catastrophe for this introvert. My head constantly throbbed and I knew I was going to have aneurism or a stroke. Honestly, I hoped I would because I wanted to die. I envisioned myself driving off an overpass on the way home nearly everyday.
I had longed to be a mommy for ten years and two marriages. I felt called to mother children. I read pregnancy websites, scouted Babies R Us and volunteered in the church nursery. My heart's deepest desire was to be a mommy. God heard my petition and granted me grace. I was a mommy. I had a beautiful baby boy.
Long ago I decided that I was going to work on my master's degree when I had my children. I had been planning this since the first month of my teaching career and had started this process while still married to my ex-husband. When my son was six months old I was living with my current in-laws when my husband asked if I would teach one more year to help financially. In my heart I knew this was a bad idea, but I agreed.
I was away from my baby for 10 hours a day and when I was home all my time with him was shared. The only time I had alone with my baby was breast feeding him late at night. Because of this I would hold him late into the evening and he became so accustomed he would not sleep unless he was held. On top of that, my mother-in-law offered suggestions or advice about everything; even the littlest, most insignificant details of daily life. Anytime I put Luke down for a second, he was scooped up by someone else. I felt insignificant in my newborn's life. I voiced my concerns to my husband who sided with his parents with the rationale that he and I would not be living with them forever and therefore they should get to spend as much time with Luke as they wanted. Holy crap! I felt so unimportant.
Clearly I felt as if it was me against them, so I sought help from a counselor. Since I had moved to a new area since my previous counseling sessions, I sought help from a different counselor. During the first session I vented about the situation with the counselor sharing about her experiences with her in-laws. During the next session the counselor did the same thing. I was not receiving any help; all I was getting was someone who was feeding into the drama. I did not need that. I needed someone to help me see the positives in my life, someone to see how I was struggling in relating to my husband, someone to see that I did not hate my in-laws, all I wanted was some time alone with my baby. I stopped seeing her after two sessions.
I then went to a medical doctor and had blood work done. There was nothing out of the ordinary. So why would someone who gained 50 pounds during pregnancy have lost 60? I was not overweight beforehand. The explanation was given that I was just one of the lucky women who lost more weight than they gained during pregnancy.
A few months later, my husband reluctantly moved with me to the area of my youth. Once here I was a stay at home mommy and attending graduate school. It was exactly what I wanted, but I was still struggling. There were days when I would not get dressed or shower. There were days when I would burst into tears over minor things. There were days when I would hear my mother-in-law's voice offering outdated advice when Luke was fussy. I read every self help book and website, but when suicidal ideation crept back into my thoughts it was time for serious help.
During my first visit with my new counselor it was suggested that I see a doctor for medication. The doctor agreed and I given a prescription for antidepressants and anxiety pills. I am now on the road to recovery, but I am still plagued with guilt, remorse for time lost and morbid reflection of what-ifs. That is why attending the AA meeting was such a blessing. I now have words to explain what has been causing my depression.
"We must be careful not to drift into worry, remorse or morbid reflection, that would diminish our usefulness to others." -Alcoholics Anonymous, 4th Edition
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