There’s no shame in asking for help…
I’ve been struggling with mental health issues for years. At least since I was 12 years old. Depression, mostly, some issues with self harm during my teen years and early 20’s. It took a lot of medication trial and error and counseling to get myself to a good point.
At the good point I got gastric bypass and started on a weight loss journey and a healthy lifestyle and was on my way to whole body and mind wellness. I was doing cross training, hip hop abs, and trying to get myself strong enough to do a 5k. I wanted to do the Color Run, and Dirty girl.
I moved out of state like a moron with a very toxic human being, and was happy, I loved it in the state I lived in. I wanted nothing more than to stay. But that wasn’t in the cards for me. I was dumped and sent packing back home where I slept on a couch of yet another toxic situation that took up most of my early twenties. I found a way out in the form of a relationship with an addict, and when that relationship wasn’t going to work out I was pretty much stuck.
Until DJ. And if you’ve been reading my blogs for the past few years you know how that went. We got together, got pregnant, got pregnant again and then I almost died. Three times. Eight surgeries. Seven weeks in the hospital. A year of healing, another surgery to repair my hernia, more healing.
Now that its been almost two years since my near death there hasn’t been a day when I haven’t been in physical or mental agony. I ignored it, I dealt with it. I denied it. But now its to the point where there’s nothing left for me to do. I have to get help.
I’m exhausted. I am doing the best I can, and even then I feel like its not enough. I always feel like I’m failing my kids. I go to bed exhausted and I wake up exhausted. I am exhausted deep down in my bones. I hurt deep down in my bones.
On top of all this I’m stubborn. I try to hide my problems and put on this face like I’m perfect. I’m this perfect person and I try so hard. I kill myself to get this house done and clean, to keep the kids under control and make sure they aren’t wrecking things, which they are boys they do it a lot.
Instead I am met with judgments from people ignorant to how I actually run the house and the kid’s routine. I am stressed out to the point of me crying and breaking down because I’m already at my wits end with John and his behavior and trying to get him to listen the first time he’s spoken too.
So at 2 pm today I am seeing my doctor and asking for help. Because if I don’t I think I may end up in the looney bin.