Saturday, March 7, 2009
I've dealt with depression my whole life. I know... somewhat odd for a child but it's true. If you have been reading my blog for any amount of time, you know that I was adopted at a young age (not an infant), life is constantly throwing adversities in my direction, and within the last two years, I lost my birthmother, leaving a void that has never really been filled.
When I was younger and living in the battered women's shelter, I started going to counseling. One was at a Sexual Assault Resource Center (yes, THAT happened to me also...) that is local to me, and later, was a mental health facility.
Counseling is hard for anyone to do. It's hard in general to open yourself up. But it is also good for you. It helps you heal and learn.
I thoroughly enjoyed my sessions at SARC. My counselor was a young (a couple of years older than I was at the time) woman who didn't judge. She listened. And she actually provided insight/tips.
Then she left. She switched to a new job in Baltimore. What would I do without her?! I was heartbroken. My worst fear was realized. I opened up to someone, allowed someone to see my inner workings, and within a couple of months, she was gone.
That feeling was all too familiar to me, and a big source of my issues. Some of which still linger today.
I decided to stick it out there with the next person who came, but I also started going to counseling at a local mental health facility. I think I let someone talk me into the assumption that I needed medicine. (I don't agree with medicine. I don't know why exactly... I just don't.)
The woman who succeeded my "friend" at SARC was older and much more judgemental, not as pleasant, and used to look at me in that way. I can't even explain it, except it used to make me angry.
I mean, how dare she?! I was there for help, not to be judged. I needed to heal from what was hurting me. I had been through a lot in about 2 years and it wasn't looking so good for me. I wasn't feeling so positive about the whole staying alive past 18 thing.
After dealing with her not-so-positive remarks and her judging looks for about a month or so, I decided to end my stint there.
I did continue my counseling sessions at the mental health clinic, which were also odd for me, because my shrink was the father of someone I went to school with in high school. He prescribed me some medication that made me drowsy all day even though I took it before I went to bed at night, and I had to work full time to provide for my babies, who were then almost 4 and almost 1. So I stopped taking the medication and stopped going to counseling. It wasn't doing any good anyway.
In my honest opinion, all psychiatrists/psychologists are judgemental and don't really help. If I'm wrong, that's cool... I would love to meet a different kind! I also don't want to be on some medicine that has me like a zombie or that lowers my libido.
Fast forward 10 years... I have done a complete 180 and have survived long past 18, thank the Lord! I have 3 beautiful children that I am able to solely provide for without any assistance from the government.
Do you want to know what's missing? A support groups. A circle of friends. Yes, I have friends, but between work and daily life, and most of them not having children, I am virtually alone. You may have seen me mention my birth family - they are the reason I am planning to move to Washington. My adoptive family? I love them and I am appreciative to them for what they have given me, but again, I have no support system, and for a single mother like me, that is of the utmost importance. My parents live about an hour and a half away from me, along with my paternal grandparents and one brother. My other brother is in Colorado. The rest of my adoptive family is in Pennsylvania, with some parts scattered across the country.
I am virtually alone. I have a "boyfriend" for lack of a better word right now. We have our issues and things don't seem to be working so well so that is kind of up in the air. At least his family is supportive and helps me out, even though they don't have to.
Like last year, I had to have my gallbladder removed. My boyfriend's parents kept my children. If I didn't have them, I don't know what I would have done. Literally! What a shame right?
Oops... I am rambling a little. Well not really. Having no support contributes to my depression. Add to that the death of my mother, the only person I actively sought my whole life, and the last two years have been incredibly rough for me.
My kids are suffering, my household duties are suffering, and I am suffering.
I used to be so clean. Now, there's piles of stuff and things that need to be sold or thrown out or taken to the dump. But I don't do any of it. Know why? Because I am overwhelmed. And because the kids see things this way, now they leave their stuff anywhere they want and I have to tell them multiple times to clean up their stuff, which usually ends with me yelling and them being mad at me.
I hate things the way they are and to me, the only solution is to clean house, figure out what I want and what I don't, put a "moving - everything must go!" ad in my local paper and on Craigslist.org, pack up the car, and Go!
In Washington I have a Grandpa, A Sister who I consider one of my best friends, her 2 boys, my brother, his wife, and their 2 girls, a couple of aunts and uncles, and a bunch of cousins. And although I know things won't be perfect and I am not sure what my mental state will be once I get out there, I am sure it will be better than what it is here.
It's all very scary but also very exciting. And it's the only place that I felt like I fit in.