Grow or Die

** There are all kinds of depression in men and women. This particular post is geared for struggling moms. I meant to write this as a short piece, because moms have no time, but there was too much to say, because depression is hard.

When my middle son was a toddler I was still trying to use cloth diapers.  I thought if each of my kids only filled one garbage bag full of disposable for their entire diaper life, I would be a good person. One day we were at the doctor’s office, for my infant to get a checkup.

The kids were five, two and baby. It was time to go and the five-year-old ran down the hallway.  The two-year-old charged behind.  I was trying to gather up the baby and stop them before they got too far ahead.

Well. It was summer and the toddler was wearing loose shorts over that big cloth diaper. As I was trying to get them to slow down, juggling a baby who wanted to nurse and a diaper bag, and…. everything, suddenly, a little two-year-old baby shit popped out of that bulky, gross cloth diaper and rolled. It rolled sideways too.

How the fuck? Rolled right into a different waiting room. With a whole family in it. I had a choice to make. Follow the kids or the shit?  I’m a good person so I chose the shit, I didn’t want to leave a mess. I mumbled some lame apology to the dumbfounded family as I picked up the shit in one hand with a fussy baby in the other, cleaned the floor, glad my other kids had hit a door and were fighting, loudly, over who got to open it. I half-assed washed my hands, best I could, and went after them. I never used a cloth diaper again after that day, I gave them all away to some other sweet, well-intentioned mother. I beat myself up for a while that I couldn’t be one of those flowery mothers where the kids played with sticks and twigs, and had pretty little cloth diapers and we sang songs and ate hummus. We were definitely not that. My kids had glitter swords and plastic slides and pacifiers. This was the beginning of me having to let go of perfection, forgive myself for doing what I needed to do to survive and accept that some things I just can’t manage and that would somehow have to be okay.

It wasn’t really though. Every failure, or perceived failure, ate at me a bit.  Secretly wore me down. It has taken me decades at this point, to learn which things to care about and which things to let go.

That’s the thing about parenting.  Weighing the decisions every day so you don’t die under the pressure. More and more though I see moms dying under the pressure.  Single moms, married moms, parents not able to hold it all together because it really is too much to hold. This week we had a few moms come to the Recovery Center where I work and it inspired me to write about depression, about how I had it mildly for years without knowing I had it.  I lived a blur of a life that started with breakfast and snacks and legos and working and ended with the reward of a drink, or two, or sometimes a lot more, until I was exhausted and disorganized and and nothing seemed worth it, and things had to change. I met with two mothers this week in this predicament. It is a lot more common than any of us like to admit.

One mom this week was overwhelmed and needed help but couldn’t even manage finding time to talk to me.  The best she could do, was text me her work schedule.  She couldn’t think.  She couldn’t make a decision. She needed me to look at the schedule and put myself in it, so we could Zoom.

She was falling apart and needed help, but getting help in and of itself was overwhelming.

I get it, I know the feeling, and I did it, I took care of this simple detail that to her, was impossible.

We Zoomed. She was hungover.  She had let loose the night before because fuck life was hard.

Parenting is, sometimes, one long blur of dishes and diapers and dog hair and nursing and not napping and trying not to just lose it completely.

Of course there is the beauty of it, but when you are depressed and exhausted, it’s easy to miss those moments. It’s like this life is supposed to be heaven but it surely feels like hell and there doesn’t seem to be any escape or explanation for why it all feels this way, so bad, when it should be so good.

We wonder why depression is at an all time high in the US with our moms, but to me, there’s no mystery.

Raising kids is no bullshit the hardest, greatest thing any of us will ever do. It takes a village but in our culture, the whole village is often mostly mom, and moms are breaking. There’s all this love around us, but we can’t really feel it, because it comes from us, and we have no time to grieve losses and process the hard things of life, or have anyone just stop for a moment and let us feel all the things that try to crush us everyday. So we stuff them and shove our chin up and move on. This is too much.

Then we shame our moms for falling apart and so they have no recourse, except to fall deeper, darker, scareder, with more shame. This dark is serious, and really, really scary.

Moms are alone, and we have to stop the expectation that it is okay to expect so much. It’s not normal.

I used to be this way, alone, or perceived alone, because I wasn’t willing to ask for help. Afraid to ever admit just how incredibly dark and hopeless things were inside my mind. The darker the thoughts, the more I smiled and lied about how I felt. I used to not be able to make a decision because everything felt too hard. I got to a place where I was not sure how to keep going and I knew I had to make a choice. Grow or die.

When you are so far down, how do you choose the growth?

I don’t know what others do, but I know what I did.

One day, when my kids were fighting, and the house was a mess, and I didn’t want to deal with any of it, and really all I was thinking about was if I could have a drink yet, I decided that I didn’t like any of this and I was stopping this life. No I didn’t want to kill myself, then, but I knew I really couldn’t keep myself or any of us going this way.  I didn’t know how I was going to do something different, but when I really stopped and looked, we weren’t happy.  All we were doing was getting by, and that was not going to set my kids up to be strong, secure, adults. In that moment, I just decided that I didn’t know quite how, but I needed more hope and peace, and I was going to figure it out instead of staying overwhelmed. That was the first, best step.

I realized I was confusing my kids by not slowing down, and really being with them in their feelings. I wasn’t teaching them how to get through conflict well at all. Nobody felt validated, everyone was competing for attention and to be “right” while others were “wrong.” We were all just getting through every day, surface joys, glossing over frustrations. We have to teach our kids how to advocate for themselves and stay calm doing it. Calm only comes when things feel safe. It was bullshit, what I was doing and it wasn’t teaching my kids anything about how to manage the big feelings they would have sometimes. Glossing everything over taught them to be ashamed of having big emotions, and then the emotions would get bigger, because none of us knew how to accept them, break them down, and find control by accepting them and managing it, rather than fake control by trying to avoid them.

It’s taken me years. Years of forgiving myself and trying to do better tomorrow. Years of trying to actually feel, not avoid feeling. Years of being brave and patient and disciplined enough to demand that none of us, kids and I, avoid our feelings, and that talking about them, being in them, is necessary, not shameful. Years of actually loudly demanding my kids and I talk things out. This is how trust and connection is born. Somehow our culture has taught us that being in touch with our feelings is a sign of insanity, when really, running from ourselves is actually what’s insane. When one kid is exploding, instead of trying to temper it by telling them to stop or time out, asking them to tell me about it. Describe the feeling. Tell me why they didn’t want to share or take a bath or go to bed or why they hit the dog. Or now, why they flipped off the cop, or drove home from a party they weren’t supposed to be at in the first place. I used to be surprised every time my kids did something I perceived as shitty.  Without even meaning to, I took it personally, because I felt like, I was such a loving mom, how could they still be so angry sometimes, or mean or impulsive or selfish.  I would be incredulous, and a little disgusted, not at them, but at my obvious failure as a parent to have kids who could act that way.  It would build inside me and there was no outlet. When my kids were younger I could drink and it would alleviate the angst but it never resolved it, so everything pent up. I don’t do that now, drink to alleviate angst. It’s insidious, because all it does is make things worse for longer.

Once I decided to let go of perfect, everything started to improve. I started to get to know my own true self and heart and integrity too. If all I did was get my pants on in the morning and keep my thoughts more positive in a day, I was proud of that. I had to lower my expectations of myself so I could feel success. My kids became calmer, safer, happier. I started to have hope and more confidence. I stopped drinking to escape, and I hold that line to this day.  If I drink, it’s to have fun.  The thing is, it is okay to do that, it really is, if you can keep your shit together. Some people can’t, and that’s okay too, there’s a million ways to celebrate that have nothing to do with substances and there shouldn’t be a stigma around people who don’t or can’t. I’ve found that the more I heal from the inside though, the easier it is to have a healthy relationship with substances.

That miserable day years ago, I decided to live my life from a place of mental, emotional and spiritual health. Little by little, things have gotten better. It’s always a work in progress. But the things I had no control over, the ugliness that masked the beauty of each day, that has shifted.  The beauty overrides the dark. My kids, and I, know how to manage ourselves, most of the time. We can be present and loving.  Or present and angry. We can be overwhelmed and talk about it. We can cry and say, “I don’t know why I am crying,” and it is safe.

Depression lifts, when emotions become safe. I see it at work time and time and time again.  It is a daily practice, a discipline, to learn how to feel. The more we feel, the more we can control what we feel. 

Depression is a warning that life is out of control. The paradox, is that depression is an inward problem, that can only be fixed using a combination of inward and outward solutions. Our ego tells us we can do it ourselves, so we self-medicate or expect a pill or a drink or a joint to snap it all away and it doesn’t. It takes intention and dedication from the inside out to make it different. It takes good therapy or other real support and sometimes careful medication, too. In a society where everything is based in instant gratification, it’s hard to accept that just a pill or a drink can’t really make it better. It takes inner work and outward support, no matter what.

If you are a mother who is in the deep throes of the dark, don’t worry. It gets better, and eventually, really good!  For me, the first step was admitting that I needed support. I hated to do it. I hated ever to ask for anything. It was worth it. What I found was stronger friendships and bonds with family. I made new friends. I found the courage to just be real, and through this needing help I was so ashamed about, I found better friendships and stronger connections. My world got bigger. Depression makes you feel like the world is caving in. Daring to ask for help opens everything back up, and there is hope.

If you lose your shit, that’s okay. I used to think I was ruining my kids every time I made a mistake, yelled, gave up, let them get away with something I shouldn’t.  You aren’t. I can tell you for certain because I have messed up a lot and I have three truly amazing kids that I am in awe of every single day.

If all you can do, is give yourself some grace, and a little forgiveness, or just get your pants on in the morning, that is enough of a start.

Get a therapist and/or a Peer Support Coach. Talk to a friend or family, or lots of friends and family. Take walks, make yourself move your body, learn how to get sleep. You will probably need a therapist, coach or one particular support person to hold you accountable to doing these things. Holding everything together is an extremely demanding job and we just cannot do it alone.

If you can, drink less. Even just a little less. Force yourself to discover other ways to appreciate or survive the tough moments. Even if you are telling yourself right now this does not apply to you, but there is a tiny twinge in your gut that says it might, try to listen. Or remember this sometime, when you are ready, to think about what you are doing with drinking or whatever your substance of choice is. Lots of times, when people drink, it’s because it’s the only time they can feel the connection they actually want to feel, all the time. Or it’s to go to sleep, to get a break. The problem is, if you drink a lot, or every day, you will be waking up in the night with anxiety. It’s a viscous cycle, but it’s possible to stop. Sleep without alcohol is seriously the best sleep there ever is, I promise. It just takes a while to get there. If you’re going to drink, or use any substance, do it for joy. That way, its genuinely fun, or genuinely relaxing or genuinely therapeutic. The dirty secret is that substances feel good. It shouldn’t be a dirty secret though. It should be a truth and used only to that end. Don’t drink for escape. Instead of escaping, look at your life from a lens of humor- seriously, just laugh at the insanity of it all, and let go, and stop trying so hard to be so fucking perfect. On top of that too, we do need our kids to learn how to not be alcoholics, which is very difficult in our society, especially up here in the NEK of Vermont. It is possible though. Kids can do it. Adults can do it.  They can’t do it though, if we don’t show them the way.

I have figured out what my ultimate objectives are as a mom and a person: to be reliable and solid and loving and crystal clear on why and how I live my life, so my kids can be crystal clear on their lives too.

Getting away from depression also has to do with breaking every rule you think you can’t break, and doing the things you need to feel better. Find purpose, let go of society’s judgements. Be willing to voice the fact that you are not okay, so people can help you. Be a mom and be a human and be an artist if you’d like to. Be you, every bit of you. If you are trapped nursing babies and you can’t do anything for yourself, even shit or breathe, just try to escape to good places in your mind. Dreams create hope and hope is the anitdote to depression. Start to dream of what you WILL do. That was how my farm was born. I imagined raising my kids on a farm and being able to be with them and support them at the same time. You never know what will happen if you use your thoughts for good. Do not give one fuck to anyone who wants to constrain you. It is hard, and takes courage I can’t even explain. But if you do it, everyone benefits. My kids were worried I would be bullied for creating this blog and my book. We had to look at all the writing together. All of it. I gave them voice, enough they could be proud and understanding, and brave on their paths too. Because our kids need us to grow, they need us to be brave, so they can be brave too. I hope other moms can suffer for fewer years and guide their children with courage sooner than I did.

Nothing changes overnight. Nothing changes without intention. Nothing changes unless we really, really want it to. But everything is possible. It just starts with the decision, to grow or die.

Choosing growth is harder, sort of, but there is nothing more worth it.

** If you are a struggling mom and don’t know where to get help, or don’t know where to start, call The Journey to Recovery Community Center at 802-624-4156. No matter where you are in the world, we can do the research to help you find the resources in your area. If you are in immediate crisis call the national suicide prevention hotline, 24/7 at 800-273-8255

#parenting #depression #help #healing #emotionalintelligence #momlife

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