Welcome back to my “Depressed Mom” series. If you haven’t read the intro, I urge you to do so HERE!
As I started planning for and writing these posts, I had no idea that the first one would post on World Suicide Prevention Day. This was a complete coincidence. Except I don’t believe in coincidences. I believe in the Holy Spirit. I believe everything happens for a reason and purpose. I feel that my purpose is to share my struggles so that I can share my triumphs, in hope that someone else can see, feel, and know that nothing is worth giving up life for. The pain is real. REAL. But there is always a way out. No matter who you are, YOU ARE OF GREAT WORTH.
I hesitated in writing these posts and sharing them in their entirety. I live in a small town. I have goals and aspirations. I don’t want people to change their views on me. I don’t want to be weak, broken. I don’t want people to think I can’t handle the pressures of life. But reality is, I am weak and broken. I can’t always handle it. And that’s ok. It’s ok to have baggage. We all do! Everyone has had their own mountains and we all have found a way to persevere. Please reach out to the ones you know who are weak and the ones you know who are strong. Reach out to the ones who are in between. It’s always worth the effort and you never know when a simple message, call, conversation, might just save a life.
So, on with the post.
As you know, I am a woman living with depression. I am a farmer’s wife and mother to three, ages two, four and six. I work full time outside of the home, as does my husband. We have a lot going on.
Our house has a lot of dirt. With the farm, mud, soil, manure, dirt, poop, sand, grit, and grim are kind of our “thing.” My kids are blessed to have lots. Lots of clothes, toys, books, stuff. As a family of five, we have a plethora of dirty dishes, laundry piles, and tidying up that needs to be done.
I grew up in a clean home. My parents instilled a desire for a “well-kept” home. They don’t have piles of papers in their home. The carpets are vacuumed, the shelves dusted, cobwebs cleared. There are no dirty clothes on the floor or crumbs on the couch. I know how to clean. I have been taught well.
And yet, my house is always filthy. Those close to me know that maintaining a clean and clutter-free home is not my strong suit.
I follow people on instagram that have three kids and their homes are always beautifully put together. I go to friends houses who are farmers and it doesn’t look like a tornado touched down in the middle of the living room. I get my house all put together so that all I need to do is maintain it, and yet it never holds up. I can’t do it.
I. CANNOT. DO. IT.
Now, I have come up with a reason. And some, possibly many, might see it as an excuse. But it isn’t. I truly have come to find that this is a reason. It comes down to my depression. While I have the skills needed, I don’t have the ability to maintain the motivation. See, it goes like this. I am an introvert. It takes a lot of energy to be around other people. I spend my day giving my energy to others. When I wake up, my husband has left for work already. It is my responsibility to get the kids and myself all ready for the day. And after I’ve asked the third child to put on the socks that are in their hand on for the 15th time… you can imagine how my energy level is already dwindling. At my place of employment, I work with adults with a variety of disabilities. Again, I give a lot of energy to complete the tasks needed of me each day. After work, it’s pick up the kids, prepare supper, empty backpacks, care for the house, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. These are not just my duties and responsibilities, they are both my passions, where I find fulfillment in my life. Raising my children and caring for others. These are my gifts. But they are also my struggles.
Some days it is all I can do to manage to get something that is somewhat nutritious on the plates for my family. Then I sit. And I made lists. Lists of all the things I should be doing. The things I want to be doing. I greatly have the desire to get things done. But it just doesn’t happen. I cannot maintain the motivation. I get in my head and find all the reasons why I’m not qualified. The reason’s I’m not good enough. The reason’s I’m worthy of this life. Some days it’s bearable. Some days it’s not.
I truly believe God gives us everything for a reason, sometimes we find out what that reason is, sometimes we don’t. I believe that God let me experience my depression demons at a young age, in a thick safety net, so that as my life continues and these downward spirals resurface, I will know that it will get better. It will always get better. I am deeply loved. I love deeply. I have a purpose in this life and it doesn’t end here. It doesn’t end now. I have more to do. I have more to say. I have a lot more life to live.
It will get better.
It will get better.
There will always be more dirt. There will always be a “to-do” list waiting for me. Managing and maintaining my home will continue to take practice and patience. Some days will be good. Some days will be bad. The mess will continue. And so will I.
Pray my friends. Send light. Always be kind. And remind each and everyone of them, that they are loved. Whomever they are, let them know, they are of great worth.
Without the soil we cannot grow. Happy Harvesting,