In the wake of recent events, it seems to me that much of the general public has a misconception of what depression actually looks like.

Most people see depression as this:

depression is real

They picture in their head a person overcome by sadness. They have this forlorn look,even crying. Maybe a little unkempt, unshowered and still in their pajamas. The problem is too many people equate depression with extreme sadness. They only see the stereotypical version of the disorder. And sometimes is actually does look like this. However, more often than not, it looks completely different.

To be honest, depression sometimes looks like this:

depression 1

I was on my way to a training for a job I love. I was riddled with anxiety. I wanted nothing more to crawl into my bed and disappear into my sheets. My mind was swirling and I felt like I was drowning.

Or my depression can look like this:
depression 2

I am spending a amazing day in a canoe with my family. I wanted nothing more to enjoy that day. All I could think to myself is my family deserves better than me.

Then there are days my depression looks like this:
depression 4

My children are my entire world. I couldn’t imagine my life without them. Yet, there are days where I wonder what their life would be without me. The thought of “how much better it would be with a mom who wasn’t always drowning in her own thoughts” wanders through my brain.

Even when I doing something that truly brings me joy, depression can creep up. Then it looks like this:
depression 5

The fact of the matter is depression has many faces. There is no one true look of depression. In my own experience, I have learned to live with it. I have mulled and muddled through my day just trying o get the the next. And yes, there have been days where I had come close to giving up. I have come close to being too tired to carry the weight on my shoulders. There are days when the burden seems too much. I can’t sit here and honestly say what keeps me going. I think there has not enough straws yet to break the camel’s back. I just pray every day that I never find that breaking point.

I just know that I am not alone in my battle. I am one of many. I think the more we talk, the more we can shed light on the matter. The more me understand what depression really looks like, the better able we are to reach out and help save someone. Just because someone doesn’t look depressed, does not mean they aren’t feeling depressed.






A moment of silence


Photo Credit: Pixabay- Zerocool

It is 10:49pm. I should be in bed.

Yet, the soft tumble of the dryer mixed with the gentle chip of crickets begs me to enjoy the moment of calm. Chaos is every day life with two small boys.

My day is filled with the sound of sirens alerting the small town in my child’s imagination that help is on the way.

There is the squeal of laughter followed by the clomping of feet as a game of chase with the dog ensues.

Shouting because someone will not share fills my ears at least once, if not twice, an hour.

My brain is overloaded by all the noises of stories both from my children’s mouth and those on the TV screen.

So yes, I should be asleep because I have a bout tomorrow.

I need to rest to be at my best. But I can’t help but savor the sweet moments of silence. I need to give myself some time to unwind from a day of refereeing.

He did this.

He took that.

The dog is doing this.

A string of never-ending need for my undivided attention to be divided between a hundred places.

I need a moment of peace to let the tight coil of my anxiety to slowly unwind. I need to breathe.

I need the silence to remind myself that this is all worth doing. At the end of the day, I need those sweet faces.

However, right now, I need a glass a wine and a hot bath.

I need mom time.

Mom blogs can suck it.

I remember a time when the words would just flow from my fingertips like an everlasting river. Now, they just trickle here and there like a dried up stream. I miss it. I miss it all. I need to remove this beaver dam of a writer’s block. I think the truth is I grew tired of always thinking about how I am sick. Honestly, I was just always too tired. My brain could barely scraped basic thoughts together. Beyond the basics conversation fillers, I was lost. Exhausted. Burnt out.

I grew tired of trying to be accepted. I was tired of being seen as not being quite good enough. The blogger world is rather cutthroat.I grew bored of commenting of other’s blogs that I had no real interest in with hopes that they would return the favor. It is a lot like high school. Unfortunately, I fall into the place of the girl who doesn’t quite fit in. Sure, I am a mom. Yet in the blogging world, that is not enough,  I just wanted the world to see that  I am a mom who isn’t perfect but not broken. Most of all, I was tired of pretending. Because if I am going to be honest, I don’t care about recipes of kids snacks or carefully curated visions of a falsely perfect life.

I believe in being me. As is. I know I may not have to most innovative writing but it is real and raw. I bleed myself on to my keyboard in hope of reaching someone like me. I letting the world’s standards roll of my shoulders as my wings spread. I am letting go of the numbers. How many followers? How many views? Are they reading this? Are they sharing this? I am over it. I am letting all of the anxiety that has held me back go.  Read my work or not. But at this point, mom blogs can suck it.