The reality was, I felt dead. Like the walking, talking, sometimes forced-smiling dead.
I've already posted about my bout with depression here, so I won't go into detail again, but as Spring slowly reappears and my soul with it, I look back at the past four months and my stomach hardens a bit, tightening at the mere remembrance of the difficulty I faced in trying to raise my three little loves in the midst of such darkness of mind. The memory of it is still fresh, though thankfully fading bit by bit each day that the sun shines warmer and the grass greens and new life appears both outdoors and in my very soul.
It's late April in western Montana, and I feel normal again, but feeling "normal" is such a stark contrast to what I felt all winter long that normal feels exhilarating. I feel so...alive! You know how we tend to appreciate each new season because we start to tire of the current one just a bit? We anticipate Fall as we grow tired of the relentless Summer heat; a glorious Fall gently ushers us into the slow and peaceful Winter; and Spring's appearance is always sweet as we grow tired of bundling up and shoveling snow. I think most of us wake up and get a little more 'pep' in our step when the snow melts and the birds start singing, when tulips start to emerge from the thawing earth and frost is replaced by dew. Well, magnify that feeling a hundred times; imagine feeling that after having felt nothing for four months, and that's how I'm feeling right now. The contrast is stark. And while I'm basking in it, trying to make up for lost time in so many areas of life, the intensity of my dark winter is still so fresh in my memory, it makes me shudder. The thought of going through it again truly scares me.
When I'm at my best (in a healthy mental state the other eight to nine months of the year), I'm social, I eat well, I feel good, and I'm motivated and energetic. Though I make plenty of parenting mistakes, I've got my A-game on in that realm, I take the girls to parks and hiking and to friend's houses, and I'm involved in serving in my community and church. When SAD hits hard, none of those things exist anymore. It's not a simple "pull myself up and out" or "get it together" or "fake it till I make it". Reading the Bible extra and dwelling on uplifting scripture and listening to praise music doesn't just fix it. It's a chemical shift that I can't control. Call it weakness, judge me, I truly don't mind. Weakness of any sort is looked down upon in our culture, but the apostle Paul says to boast in our weaknesses. I don't love doing that, ok? But I fully admit, I am weak in the winter, and nothing has been able to fix it. Do I lean on Christ? Absolutely! He sustains me; He is my everything and the only reason I make it through the dark months. Yet...
If there's a solution, you better believe I'm chasing after it! And so is my husband. I've dropped the ball big time throughout the course of my life. I've made huge, life altering mistakes. While obviously, I know I'll make mistakes as a mama, motherhood is one area I do NOT want to drop the ball. I don't want to look back after more than two decades of parenting and see that I was an absent parent for months every single year. I don't want my girls to always remember having to fend for themselves every January through March. That thought makes me sick. To the best of my ability, I need to be my best for my kids and for my husband. That is my full time job, my full time ministry, the gift that's been entrusted to me that I desperately want to be diligent with.
Today is supposed to be 70. Bikes have been dusted off, pansies planted, the patio table set up. Though still chilly in the mornings, flip flops are the shoe of choice around here, and the strawberries I bought this week actually tasted like strawberries! The long winter has finally made it's exit, and my own dark night is over. Morning has come. And I don't want to go back. I can't. Feeling so alive makes me know that so far as it depends on me, I can't go back.
Extreme as it might seem, a major move may be on the horizon. I'm not a fan of running from problems, but this is different. This is literally about my family's well being. When I'm well, the family is happy, things function as they should. Even my physical health is impacted greatly by my mental health. My back pain and headaches subside and my stomach seems to work better--not perfect, but noticeably better. The thought of another cross country move at seven months pregnant is nerve-wracking; the thought of winter after winter in MT is more nerve-wracking. As much as I hate the thought of leaving family here behind again, it seems like the best thing for us to do right now. I'm learning to separate emotions and feelings from facts. The reality is, staying in Montana, for now, is probably not the best scenario for our family. Besides the cold long winters, cost of living is crushing us and we haven't met a single one of our financial goals in seven years. I'd love to end up in Boise someday...close to family, neat city and mild weather...but they'll have to work on paying teachers a fair wage before that can happen for us.
Of course, more than anything, we want God's perfect will for us. I'm praying toward the move working out, but I'm also praying for him to give me peace and contentment and joy if we stay here. I know he works all things for good, and I know if he chooses to keep us here, I have to trust that he will get me through and that somehow, it's for my good and even for my family's good.
We find ourselves in limbo once again. Someday we will settle, but in all reality? This world is not our home anyway, which helps calm my heart when I start feeling anxious about not knowing what tomorrow holds (though even the most "stable" people don't actually know what tomorrow holds either). I don't know where my husband will get a job or where we'll be in a few months. But today? Today I'm going to pack picnic lunches and take my girls to the park and walk barefoot through the grass and dig in the dirt a little, planting a few more flowers while the girls play and get dirty and sun kissed. And if it actually reaches 70? We'll drop everything and go to our favorite local ice cream shop, as is tradition in the Knox family. It's going to be a good day. The fog has lifted and being alive never felt so real. Hope you're enjoying Spring wherever you are!
