And so, after a really positive and productive Monday morning, things very quickly escalated in the afternoon. My boys were difficult and I responded with frustrated shouting in front of some other parents on the school run. I instantly felt the burn on my face from their judgemental looks and things went downhill from there. The drizzle turned into cold, hard rain and I was drenched while the boys, in their waterproofs, refused to walk faster. I willed myself to hold it together. It wasn’t them of course, it was just the straw that broke the camel’s back. As soon as we got home I fled upstairs to my room and told them not to bother me, door slamming. Outside the heavens opened up with torrential rain. Inside it was a similar scene as I cried my own deluge of all the frustrations that I’ve been bottling up for the last year. I think it must’ve been two hours before I managed to drag myself out of bed to go and cook tea for my boys. I was on automatic – chopping, slicing, cooking, serving. Then Rob got home and told me to take it easy, go and have a lie down or a read.
When Rob came to check up on me later I thought it was out of my system. He gave me a huge hug and as I started to tell him everything I felt something snap and a strange sound came out from somewhere inside of me. It shocked me. Guttural and loud, somewhere between a desperate cry and a deep gasp for breath, it broke the levee and more tears came while the rain continued to lash down outside. I motioned for him to close the door. I didn’t want my boys to hear or see their Mama like this. Everything from the past year; the responsibilities, the confidences, the health scares, the people relying on me, my elder son’s sadness about mean friends, the work deadlines, the depression, the anxiety, the feeling that I will never be good enough, the really sick friends, the arguments with family, the accusations that I don’t see other people’s suffering…e v e r y t h i n g had mounted up. At some point the pressure had to be released and that point was now.
I felt better afterwards. Rob told me he had been expecting this for some time, that he was surprised it hasn’t happened sooner. I remember saying that I felt selfish for feeling upset about having to compromise or miss out on the things I wanted for myself. He told me it was not selfish and in doing so reassured my twisted mind that wanting something for yourself is NOT selfish.
The next day I woke up and decided I would take myself out for a few hours. I pootled around the shops and didn’t do anything for anyone else, I actually sat down for lunch and a coffee and read a few pages of my book. I forgot about my huge to-do list. Later, as I drove home to collect the boys from school, the stormy skies turned blue and the sun came out. And I wondered if that was a sign from the universe.
So this is not a pity post. It’s me keeping my promise to myself, that I would talk about the bad times whenever I felt I could, because we need to help break the stigma of depression. If my being honest about depression and anxiety and the darkness that I feel makes you uncomfortable I’m really sorry. But if it helps even one person feel like they are not alone then it’s worth it.
Please don’t let things stack up into what feels like an insurmountable mountain. Talk to someone, write it down, go to a hilltop and scream it out. Get help. Anything to help ease that pressure. You are loved and you are worth it. And if you have no one else to talk to, I’m always here.