Here we are at week 8 in Love Kate's A-Z All About me weekly challenge. Actually we're at week 9, but I'm running a week behind. Who knew I could be a poet too? Anyway, happiness is one of those emotions that everyone strives for and not always conquers. I have off and on battled depression since I was 15. I'm a pro at hiding it and putting on the act of being happy. Only a select few can read between the lines and know when I'm wearing a mask.
I believe my parent's divorce triggered my first bout with the D word. I was 17 before I was actually diagnosed and medicated, but once I was...a fog was lifted and my life was a much brighter place. I fell in love for the first time and had my heart broke. I dealt with it and I survived and became stronger for it. I really don't remember when or why I quit taking my meds. I guess I thought I was all better now and didn't need them. And I didn't, for a while.
I fell in love again. I should've seen the signs and known that it wasn't a healthy love, but it was a fun and dangerous kind of love. It was a volatile kind of love. When things were good, they were AMAZING...when they were bad, they were devastating. When he gave me a promise ring, I believed him. When people told me he was unfaithful to me, I believed HIM. When he told me he wanted to marry me and spend the rest of his life taking care of me, I blindly believed him. So when I got pregnant at 20, there really wasn't any question about what the next step would be.
Of course I had my second thoughts, but we were young and I was convinced that once this baby came EVERYTHING was going to change. He was gonna be an amazing daddy and he was all the sudden gonna be the husband I'd been dreaming of. I was WRONG!! But this post isn't supposed to be about my marriage, it's about my happiness. After Beelay was born, I suffered from postpartum. I was once again medicated. It didn't have the miraculous effect that it had had before...probably because it made my life and situation so much clearer and I knew I was not in a good place. As you've read in Week 2, I gave it my best efforts to make it work....even popping out a second baby, because the first one obviously helped so much. <---to be clear, I wouldn't trade my girls for ANYTHING (well maybe better behaved girls) in the word.
After I finally left for good, I tried medication again. Only it was definitely not the right one. I felt like a zombie and I never slept. So instead of going back to the doctor, I just quit taking it and put my best foot forward in trying to make it. Since middle school, I've always wished on "shooting stars" and "11:11". Not that I'm superstitious, but what could it hurt. After I left, my new wish became "to be happy". Of course God has thrown me some curve balls, especially with the death of one of my very best friends. After that, I came to terms with the fact that I probably needed to stay medicated. And ya know what? Since accepting that, I've been happy.
Sure I have my good days and my bad, but so does everyone else. I no longer EVER feel sorry for myself. I'm happy with the choices that I've made. I'm happy with the life that I'm living. I'd be even happier if I won the lottery and was able to go back to school and quit my job, but such is life. I'm happy with the friendships that I've built. I'm happy with the children God gave me...I wish he'd given them a different daddy, but I realize I'm really the one that chose him. Happiness is a state of mind that comes from acceptance and medication....in my world anyway :)
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