Isn’t this always the truth with someone who suffers from depression?
I’m on my second post today…mostly to keep myself a little sane. I’m home sick, without my son to car e for I find my mind a not so welcome place to be. I live for him. He directs my day and helps me keep putting one foot in front of the other. He’s the reason I can be happy, and plan fun things in the future.
I took to the Internet this afternoon to distract myself from the dull ache in my head, and instead I have developed a dull ache in my heart. I read a blog about an abused and eventually murdered child, a thank you letter to someone’s parents for being wonderful, and an alcoholic woman. I read about a struggling wife, and an entry to the weekly writing challenge about girls trying to fit in at school. All of the blogs I read today helped to remind me of how much we all struggle to be happy and enjoy our lives.
My biggest fear is failing my son. I worry I won’t live long enough to teach him to be good, or that somehow I won’t be able to raise a son that enjoys his own life. I worry I’ll damage him either because I don’t know how to parent or because I die before I can. I’ve never felt so responsible for someone as I have for him since he was born. It never mattered before if I failed, or died alone. I think this might be the root of my anxiety. Being responsible for how someone turns out is a HUGE thing! I’m scared. 15 months after his birth and I’m still scared. It’s that fear that drives everything. I can’t quit my job-bubba needs things, and I gotta find a way to buy a house and plan for retirement so he doesn’t have to take care of his momma. I gotta find a way to not be that depressed mom who lays around, and I need to be healthier so that I can live long enough to see him grow up, and I gotta find a way to protect him from bullies and child molesters and cruel people…
All of this is overwhelming for someone who deals daily with depression. I meant what I said when I blogged that depression is like an addiction. It’s hard to move away from and quit. I know technically depression is a disorder, a disease, but in some ways, and maybe just for me, it’s also a choice. Today is harder than most because I’m struggling with a hormonal imbalance, but really that’s just a more explainable excuse.
In the end, the moral of the story, and all of that garbage is…I’m vulnerable, and sad, and today I need a hug and a word of encouragement, and a validation that I am a great mom, and that I can’t and won’t mess the most important job of my life up too much.