When I think about “My Story” it doesn’t feel very
remarkable. There were no major
events in my life that really defined me or steered me in a specific
direction. So when I shared a part
of life with a good friend I didn’t suspect that a year later she would tell me
that it had a huge impact on her life.
I grew up in the suburbs. My parents are still married after 43 years. We took family vacations. There was no abuse, no drugs,
nothing. I married my college
sweetheart 2 months after graduation.
We are still married 16 ½ years later. We have 3 beautiful children. We haven’t had any major traumas. No abuse, no drugs, no cancer, no unemployment, no major
issues.
How then could my story affect my friend?
It starts in 2006.
Sometime during that year a couple close to us was going
through some major marital problems.
I would lay awake at night thinking about them and their children. What should I say? Should I say anything? Praying, praying and praying.
Also in the fall of 2006 I started working a little more
than I had the few years prior. I
went from a .6 position just teaching kids with learning disabilities to now
working .8 with .2 of that being students with emotional and behavioral
disorders. So I added a little
more than an hour a day and added about 4 or 5 students with more behavior
needs.
So now I was also awake thinking about these students and
their issues. I was exhausted all
the time.
Because it is so easy to diagnose something in someone
else…I had pegged this friend of ours as being depressed. I said, “Hey, if you go to the doctor
for depression, I’ll go too!”
There were a lot of conversations that had gone on prior to this
declaration on my part. Many of them were via email. Not always the smartest of ways to communicate. Especially when there are emotions
involved. You can’t hear the tone
the person is trying to use in their voice and it is often interpreted
incorrectly. There was a lot of
that going on in our conversations.
The friend did go to the doctor, but I hadn’t yet.
I started thinking about things that I never thought about
before. I would be sitting at a
stoplight, see train tracks and think, “What if I just drove head on into a
train?” I never really considered
doing it, but just that thought running through my head made me realize I
really needed to do something.
Things at school were not getting any better. One of the kids on my caseload was the
most high profile kid in the school.
It felt like I was being put down as a teacher because I couldn’t come
up with a way to help this kid stay out of trouble and help the teachers with a
way to work with this kid. Plus I
had another one that had severe psychological needs and he scared the crap out
of me some days.
I would leave school, pick up the kids from school and
daycare and just want to sleep. I
would turn the TV on to their favorite shows and go lay down on our bed. Of course I felt guilty about that too. What kind of mom does that?
Finally I made the appointment. The first time I had gone to see this doctor for a physical,
it was a little awkward because I had gone to school with her in junior
high! She now was married and had
a different last name, so I wasn’t even thinking about it that first time! As soon as she walked into the room for
this appointment, I burst into tears. (Not a huge surprise for those that know
me!) We talked a little bit and
then I filled out a questionnaire about how I felt, if I thought of harming
myself, if I was tired all the time, etc.
Guess what. I
was depressed. I knew that, but it
still didn’t feel real. Why is it
that we still have such a negative reaction to mental illness? In fact, even now, 6 years later, there
are members of my family that I haven’t told about this. Not sure why not. Embarrassed? Maybe. Ashamed? Maybe. I know I shouldn’t be, but there is still a stigma attached.
I started on medication and found the right dosage for me. At one time I stopped taking it over the
summer thinking it was school that was stressing me out, I didn’t need it then. But that fall I went back and got a prescription
again. I have continued to take the
medication and am on it today. There
have been times I missed it for a few days, if I didn’t call for the refill on
time. And I can tell the difference. It makes me feel like me. I am a much better mom, wife and teacher
when I have my meds. I still cry at
the drop of a hat J
but I have come to accept that part of my temperament.
They also had me do a couple of counseling sessions. I didn’t find those particularly helpful. Nothing against the counselor, but it didn’t
do it for me.
The friend that told me that the story had a huge impact on
her life is a friend I greatly admire.
She is a strong Christian, has a beautiful family, has endured many struggles
with family illnesses and truly loves all of my children too. I am humbled that my story touched a chord
in her and helped her in her struggles.
I thank God that I found the help that I needed. When I start to feel overwhelmed, I know
I need to take a step back, take some time for myself and then let God.
