Thursday, December 22, 2016

"Your Daughter has been diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD)"


We suspected our child was different since the beginning but we always thought she just needed more time. 

She hated tummy time and couldn't bear to be on her belly for 20 seconds. 
She would screams as though she was having stabbing pain.  At 9 months old she couldn't sit on her own. 


Started sitting on her own at 11 months
Playing at 15 months. Unable to pull to stand,
She never could pull up to stand and we always blamed ourselves for not enough tummy time. I always compared her to other children, because something didn't seem right. She made babbling  sounds around the age of one and would eventually say mumumum, dondee around 18 months. She was a very quiet baby unless she was crying. She would just stare at us and sometimes give an unsure smile. 
 At every doctor appointment we were told she has a Global Delay. I wasn't sure what that meant. At one point we thought she was deaf because she never responded to us. But the Audiology tests came back fine. During this time she learned about 5 words and then would never use them again. This is called language regression. She use to scoot on her bottom and would use her heels to spin herself. She would spin and spin and spin and spin and never get dizzy. She did this many times a day. She stacks and lines up almost everything.
Scooting on her bum at 16 months. Still no words.
Practicing her steps at 22 months
She always takes our hand to bring her for what she wants,  she can't tell us what she needs, or what she wants. She can't even tell us if she is hungry. She has many meltdowns because she is so frustrated she can't communicate her needs. Some mornings this can happen 5-6 times before 9am. She will bang her head on the floor, run into the wall and throw her self on the floor. She enjoys playing in her own bubble. Eye contact is minimum but better, and she can't jump or do stairs on her own. Often she screams very high pitched and for a long time. Eventually, she gave her first steps at 22 months and started to walk. She spins standing now that she can walk. If there is a switch in the schedule, there will be a meltdown. If bedtime is not done a certain way then she will leave her room and we need to start again. She never finishes a task and switches in the middle of play. She wants to be fed most times. She is scared of loud sounds like running bath water and radio static.

 So this is just some of it, but everyone told us up until two weeks ago that she just needs more time.  After all, she is only 2 and half years old. 
We were told every child has meltdowns, so it is okay. 

As for me, I thought I was going crazy. I thought there is something else going on here. People would argue with me and tell me she just needs time and some kind of natural remedy. It seems when something different is happening, people start to panic and say everything except for what could be possible. Except for our toddler's team of doctors...

December 7th, 2016

We drop off our baby at a friends home and head to the Montreal Children's Hospital. We have been waiting for this assessment for almost a year! I thought it was 3 months, but I just didn't realize how fast the time went by. As I am sitting in the car I am just hoping our daughter can handle all the doctors and not meltdown for them. We arrive at the Montreal Children's Hospital and the team of doctors are so nice. 
We go into a room and they start assessing her one at a time while the other professionals watch behind a mirrored window. The whole 4 hour session is recorded. Each doctor takes turns, but that is not without meltdowns. Then we try to head for the gym to do some stairs, with the change of environment, our daughter's brain can't handle it anymore. She screams and cries and falls to the floor in front of all the people in the waiting room. 
I pick her up and bring her to the Physiotherapy area, but her meltdown lasts about 15-20 minutes and we are unable to do anything physical. We return back to the room. I fill out forms and they give me a book FULL of words and I'm to check off the words she says without repeating..  10..11..12..13..14...15 words.. That's about it. Most of which she's stop saying recently. I express that.


December 14th, 2016.

We arrive at the Montreal Children's Hospital after dropping both of our children off at a friends. I am SO nervous and picking my fingers all the way there. I chew 5 pieces of gum and keep quiet the whole way there. It doesn't matter what they say could be going on with her, we will love her for who she is, our sweet daughter.

I hit the elevator button and we head upstairs and register. As we sit down I see all the signs on the wall.  Physiotherapy, Feeding, Autism, etc. Within 5 minutes the doctor comes for us. She asks how we feel and I say, "NERVOUS!" She understands.

As we sit down in the room we look at each other and she says, "I'm not going to beat around the bush, your daughter has Autism. Spectrum Disorder (ASD)." I am grateful for her being direct as I'm dying for answers. All I hear after that is, "aisfasjfk fhasifjas fjsakfhsai fj ajfasfhasfjka gfsafisa nsaf hsaifj safnidsauf adsf..............................................." I feel like something fell on me. Then I force myself to listen for the benefit of my daughter. They give us Summary of Recommendations with all the information we talked about.

  • Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD), as evidenced by:
  • Difficulties with social communication and interaction. 
  • Repetitive play and behaviour, behavioural inflexibility, and strong sensory likes and dislikes.
  • Significant communication impairment
  • Motor difficulties: significant delay in gross motor skills, delays in perceptual-motor skills and delays in self-care skills
  • Feeding difficulties, manifesting as selectivity and refusal to self-feed
  • Pronounced lumbar lordosis
We then talk about her strengths:
  • Able to engage in verbal and motor imitation during social situations, which are stepping stones for communication and learning.
  • She can collaborate nicely when she is calm and interested in an activity.
  • She demonstrates good pretend play skills, which is a positive sign for continual development.
  • She has made steady progress in her ability to tolerate new situations and environments.
  •  She has a special affinity for music, which is a medium she greatly enjoys.

I told the doctor, "I knew I wasn't going crazy!!  She asks my husband some questions about how he feels and we ask and answer and ask more questions. We ask about the mild, moderate and severe but in the US and Canada they have gone away from that. They don't use mild, moderate or severe anymore. 


http://www.mira.ca/en/our-dogs/8/breeding_35.html
Then we talk about recommendations.

We talked about a service dog for her from the Mira Foundation. Which we will apply for in January when all the paper work comes in the mail from the 4 different specialists. 

I will mention some of what is available for our daughter just in case another family could benefit from the information for their child. 

CLSC social worker, Readaptation Center aka CRDI (1 yr waitlist), Speech Pathologist Home Program, Feeding Program, and financial resources such as the Supplement for Handicapped Children from the Regie des rentes du Quebec, Disability Tax Credit from the CRA, and for private grants from the President's Choice Children's Charity. A CPE day care found for us by the CLSC to enrich her socialization, paid for by the allowance for the intergration of a handicapped child. Once at school she would have an Individualized Education Plan for a specialised class or a teachers aide in a regular classroom. There are also special schools. Cognitive assessment at 7-8 years old to clarify her strengths and difficulties. There are also ASD centers in Montreal that offer private behavioural therapy. They gave us a list of books and online resources also.

For myself, I felt scared, nervous, overwhelmed, sad, in denial, frustrated, anger, and everything you can feel over the last week. My PPD gave me two days to process the news before hitting me again, but my wonderful husband was there to help. My children are such a joy in my life and we will love and serve and help them the best we can. Our friends and family on social media have made a huge difference in my life. The love and support has been so amazing that I have cried tears of joy. I am blessed to have so many angels around our family. It is hard but it will be okay.

Monday, December 12, 2016

Storms after the Rainbows

Some days are so good I think maybe the depression is gone and maybe I can get off the medication, and then out of nowhere, I am in a downward spiral.

Last week my husband and I were talking and then suddenly my heart started to feel heavy. Did we hit a trigger? Did my broken brain decide to make another crack in it that second? This is still new to me so I wasn't sure what was happening. Right away, I turned around and kneeled down. I offered a prayer to my Heavenly Father asking Him to take the heavy feeling out of my chest. 

Slowly I was sinking. My chest got heavier and heavier and eventually all my energy left my body. I started crying and I couldn't stop. I went to lay down in the bed and began crying hysterically. I felt like my whole body was in pain and I went into fetal position. I couldn't help it. It happened so fast. I had drowned in my depression and when I was crying so hard, I had the thought that I wish this wasn't real. People experience what I just experienced and it's not something that you can fake. Who could ever want to fake that? 
I was wishing I could say I was faking for attention. But this was real! My husband came to me and asked why I was crying so hard. Then he realized the depression had taken over my mind and body.

He asked me to sit up to see if I would feel better. After saying many times I didn't want to move, I forced myself to sit up.

I cried to him that I wanted to die. It was better to die then to feel like this.


In these moments we forget that we were once happy and we forget that happiness will ever come again. I can't imagine what it is like for my husband to look in my eyes and hear me say I want to die. Then he hugged me and I could barely hold myself up.

Then he put my head in his hands and said, "honey, it's the depression. I know you feel heavy. I love you...."

I had drowned in my depression and I told my husband I didn't want to live. I can't imagine how hard that would be on him. I couldn't control my feelings of brokenness or the headaches and heaviness. 

When I am in that state of mind, I forget my Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ and my children don't enter my mind. I can't control it. It's not my fault. I am not crazy. I have a mental illness, but it doesn't define who I am. I am a daughter of God and He loves me with or without my mental illness. My Heavenly Father wasn't absent to my uttered prayer. He sent my husband, family and friends to be His hands. 

My husband picked me up off the floor I ended up on. He carried me down the hallway to our baby and asked me to hold her. My eyes were bursting at the seams with tears, but I could make out her face through the tears. Her huge eyes brought a little smile to my face and slowly I was becoming calm. My husband feels the worse thing to do is to let me stay in bed.
He really does try his best and he loves me. ♥ Good days do come afterwards. Hold on while you are in your bad days and surround yourself with helpful and supportive people.




A few days later a friend wrote me this message that reassured me and gave me some answers. I feel that it's very important to share in case it's also helpful to someone else.

"I need to say I admire your courage and strength in the face of your illness. I really want to stress that this is a medical condition, like diabetes, for example. Like any chronic illness, knowing what you're dealing with and when to expect symptoms to get worse (or better) is part of the journey. The hard thing is that it's affecting your mind, so it's not always easy to tell what's the illness and what's not. Encourage your husband and those around you to remind you that the depression can take over talking and thinking for you, and that these horrible feelings are not permanent - they have come and gone before, and they will come and go again. Of course the feelings will show up, that's part of the illness, but by externalizing it ( It's not the real me, it's the Depression talking) and by talking back to it (I hear you, Depression, but I have evidence my husband loves me) and by writing down daily the things you are grateful for (even if it's only 3 things - the sun rose today, I ate an orange, my daughter smiled) you work on making your symptoms easier to live with. "


To make your symptoms easier to live with, what three things are you grateful for? 
1. _________________________
2._________________________
3._________________________





Thursday, December 1, 2016

Eating Disorder Survivor: Another form of Mental Illness.

Two weeks ago I was up at 5am which is too early for me. I couldn't stop thinking and finally I gave up on sleep and got out of bed. "Okay, Heavenly Father you got me up. I'll go write my thoughts down."

My blog is a place to open up without being judged. Currently I am writing about my journey now as I go through postpartum depression. This post is about another mental illness I had to deal with. It's taken me two weeks to finally post it. Someone told me maybe I should keep it to myself, so I knew I had to share. There is always a stigma surrounding any mental illness, which needs to stop.


"Eating disorders are not a lifestyle choice. Eating disorders are actually real, complex medical and psychiatric illnesses that can have serious consequences for health, productivity and relationships." - National Institute of Mental Health
                                                   Eating Disorders are another form of mental illness, not a choice

I am an eating disorder survivor.  I can say that now because I've learned that hiding doesn't help anyone who may be going through it. 

At 13 years old I developed an eating disorder and I was diagnosed with bulimia nervosa with anorexia nervosa tendencies.  Like intrusive thoughts with depression, eating disorders also come with their own set of intrusive thoughts about weight gain, being fat or unfit. This causes a great amount of anxiety and compulsions like exercising, restricting, or vomiting which seem to reduce that anxiety. 

Intrusive thoughts come in having this mental illness. They are uncontrollable and learning how to turn that thought into the real truth, is hard.  When you eat anything(even an egg), your intrusive thoughts tell you that you're going to gain 5 pounds from that. Then you start to feel guilty and look for ways to get rid of that food you ate!  It's not possible to gain 5 pounds from an egg, but your brain doesn't let you see the truth. It's an awful cycle. 

This was a trial that would take me 7 years to recover from. I didn't see my body as anything beautiful. If I wasn't making myself sick after every meal I was barely eating at all. My body felt awful. It was suffering. How awful to think of that now! I didn't have very much energy. Not having the proper nutrients and food in my body naturally made me more impatient, especially with my mom. 

 I joined boxing to help with the anger I felt towards those that bullied me and since then I have been able to forgive them.

I hid everything from my parents, but my little sister knew because she heard me. (She never told me until  years later).  The only reason my mother finally found out was because I wrote a note to a friend, and I dropped it in the school hallway. That note was then given to the guidance counselor who called my mother. When I got home from school that day there was an intervention. I still remember sitting on the blue stairs and seeing how worried my mom was. 


After I was diagnosed, I was in therapy every Wednesday at school. There were no treatment centers in my town. There were 4 other girls in my therapy group and we all had an eating disorder. 

Life is hard but we can not judge the trials people experience.

After those many years and being baptised into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, I have learned so much. Recieving my patriarchal blessing helped a lot and it also talked about my eating disorder and how to cope. Now there are so many resources.
I am a daughter of God.  I know I have overcome that trial with the help of so many and by trying over and over to succeed. Even if my brain felt broken. 


I gained 75 pounds with both of my pregnancies and it didn't bother me. I try to lose it afterwards by eating good foods and if I feel like it, YouTube exercise videos.

 If you are going through that now, don't keep quiet about it. This is not an attention seeking, "how could you do that? Me, I love food", situation. It is much deeper. It is a mental illness and you need help. I want you to live and feel beautiful again.


As for bullying, Dieter F. Uchtdorf counsels us that when it comes to hating, gossiping, ignoring, ridiculing, holding grudges, or wanting to cause harm—stop it!



What I've learned from that experience:


*An eating disorder is another form of mental illness, not a lifestyle choice.
*Mistakes of the past don't define you, they refine you.
*The only opinion that matters is what Heavenly Father thinks of me.
*It can happen to boys or girls, men or women at any age.
*It's not worth it.
*Even if I feel hurtful things are happening out of my control.. not eating hurts worse
*Our bodies are a precious gift to take care of.
*I know I am loved and that was a painful part of my past that I will never go back to.






Wednesday, November 30, 2016

What if I didn't open my mouth? What if I never posted or wrote that note?

Why are we so afraid of opening up about our problems, struggles, or trials? 
Is it fear of judgement? 
Is it hard to be open about our personal life? 
Is it because we think no one wants to hear it?
Is it because we think no one will care?
Is it because of the stigma that surrounds struggles that people face? 
Will people think we are crazy or are seeking attention? 
Or is it all of the above?

My depression hit me one month after giving birth and it came on strong all at once. I hid my struggle with depression from everyone. I was confused, scared of being judged, scared of not having it all together, all of the above, and it almost cost me my life. My intrusive thoughts brought on suicidal thoughts. I decided to try to hold on at least until my 6 week appointment. My doctor noticed I wasn't myself and said I looked awful. The mistake was even waiting that long to get help, but I didn't know what was happening to what I call my broken brain.

Some people have told me to just get over it, or this a new mom thing, don't talk about it, or keep some secrets for yourself. Comments like that are parts of the stigma, why people don't open their mouths and get help. 


My friend Shantelle said, "It's sad to think that other people are in that place right now. They'd rather die than tell anyone".

I went to a support group last week. When I got to share my story I mentioned some things people say to people with mental illness. I brought my journal and wrote down some of the things the women running the group said that helped me. They said, "the 3 most common complications after giving birth are bleeding, infection, and suicide. What if you are not fine? What if you don't make it through? The barrier to communication is false reassurance. So what do we say to people with mental illness? We can say, "yes, you are depressed, but you are a worthy human being." Use the good in a person, not external forces, like how the weather is beautiful so you must feel good today too. Don't try to fix the person. Listen to them, love them, watch their kids, and fold their laundry."

The amount of support you offer to someone will either hinder or speed up any progress involving healing or finding coping strategies.


By the time I got help, I'm sure I was days away from ending it all. I didn't have a plan, but I knew if I didn't open up with my doctor, I wouldn't be here much longer. It's because I want to live that I opened my mouth. How could I let those intrusive uncontrollable, suicidal thoughts that come from nowhere win?! I was suffering. I hope you will get help too when you can't hold it anymore. 
Yes, I know it's easier to say than to do. There would be bad days when I told my husband I'm done.  It's those days he tried extra and tried and tried and tried and never gave up on me.

The day I shared my story, a girl online wrote me and explained how she was having a meltdown, how she thought she was crazy. When she got online she saw and read my post. Then she wrote me telling me she feels a lot of the same things. She hid it for 7 months. She called that day for an appointment to meet with her doctor.

A couple of weeks ago a General Authority came to our Stake Conference at the chapel. There were a couple hundred people there.  As I was sitting there I saw a woman and her husband with their son. As I was sitting there a thought came into my head to write her a note. I wrote that she was a beautiful mother and I talked about my blog a little and asked her not to be offended by my note. I handed it to her as she was going out into the hallway. I waited about 5 minutes, then I went to see her. When she saw me she said, "I just need to hug you. Thank you, I really needed that. I have postpartum depression too!" We cried together and talked about how amazing the Lord is, that out of all the people that was there we ended up meeting. We've never talked before. We spent a little bit of time relating our stories with each other. How similar hers is to mine, except she's been on her medication for about a year. I found another friend.

By opening up we can offer support. 


I believe people care. I believe our Heavenly Father cares and wants us to get help and help others. He wants us to live and not to vote against the preciousness of life by ending it.

There is help!

Tuesday, November 22, 2016

Postpartum Depression is hard on Marriages.

Any mental illness is hard on marriages or any relationship. This week has been really hard. I have so many panic attacks and it's something that we just realized was going on. I thought I was just being really impatient. Postpartum Depression is one of the greatest, hardest learning experiences of my life. I also have anxiety which I am on medication for both.
I need to learn how to take care of my marriage as PPD causes a roller coaster of emotions in me.  We are not an angry family. My husband never yells at me. Some people tell me that fighting is normal in relationships but that hasn't been my experience. Our children are used to a quiet home. As much as I hate to admit it this PPD experience makes me really mad at my husband for no reason. Before I was diagnosed I would always pray and ask the Lord to take my anger away. I felt so much guilt and like the worse wife ever. This is a really hard time in our marriage. I know it's hard for my husband and we are trying to learn together. Postpartum depression can be very confusing for a couple to try and get through. One day I am okay and I'm smiling and the next day I don't want to get out of bed. I want to cry all day. I feel hopeless, unfixable, and broken. I question the medications effectiveness. I wonder when the suffering will end. I am in the beginning of PPD and I know you can't compare someones beginning of the experience with someones middle or end of depression.

You would never know it by looking at this picture of me. But going outside is a trigger. Supermom's who have it all together and stress are also triggers. Going out causes panic attacks. Lately, the task of simply getting a toddler and baby ready, bottles, snacks, myself, the diaper bag, etc are overwhelming to me. I start getting ready one hour or more before going outside and I panic the whole time. It's bad. One time my husband had to hold me and stop me. I didn't even realize what was happening to me.

 Postpartum Depression is hard on marriages. Sometimes we take things personal. Sometimes I think I have a monster in my brain and I don't know when my bad days will happen. When they do my heart feels like it's hanging by a thread, where I just want to give up life so my husband doesn't need to deal with me. 

A couple days ago we went to the Temple. My husband was in a session and I was in the family room with the children until he was done. I was just craving some answers on how to be a better wife while going through this postpartum experience. I found one of the Church's Ensign magazines and opened to an article from a lady who had cancer. As I read I felt like she understood how I was feeling. She said, "I need to remember more than my temporal self, my husband loves my soul, and this helps as I strive to love him with all my heart. We didn't make vows "until death do us part". We are partners for eternity. If we are commited and converted to keeping the promises we made in the Temple, we will be strengthened to get through any trial."

She also says, "I may have cancer but I've never experienced divorce, the death of a child, the death of a parent and other trials that affect man. We are in no position to judge others in their trials and sufferings. Not one persons' story is just like mine-not their strengths or weaknesses. We all have different trials. This life is one of testing but the test is different for all of us." (Ensign Aug 2016. Pg 58. Cancer, courage, and conversion)

Wow I thought!  This life is one of testing but the test is different for all of us. I may have postpartum depression but I've never experienced many other trials that affect other people. This is my current trial and I am trying to learn and grow even though it is a very hard time for me. My husband is here in the good and bad because he loves me.

My hope for other couples who have a husband or wife with any type of mental illness is that they will do their research! When they see their spouse act out that before getting offended they will go do their research online or ask someone who has been there.

Examples:
"My wife has anxiety. How can I help her to be less stressed out?"
"My husband has _____. And he says things like ______ . What do I do?"
My wife has depression and says I dont understand. How can I understand?"

No one is alone. Not crazy. We are each in a hard learning experience whether it's depression or something else. We shouldn't judge the trial God gives each different person.

Victoria's Story: Everyday Battle with Major Depressive Disorder

I've been debating sharing my story. A friend of mine shared hers with me and encouraged me to write mine down. She said I would help myself and others.

Well I decided it's worth it, so here it is. 

A few years ago I was diagnosed with MDD (Major Depressive Disorder) and Anxiety. As a result I also suffer with suicidal thoughts and self mutilation. It's an everyday struggle to keep going. 

I have some triggers when it comes to the anxiety but as for the depression it's an everyday thing so nothing really triggers it. I have been going through all of this for 11 years maybe more. It has been the longest time of my life. As for self mutilation (cutting), there are many reasons why I do it. But the main reason is not because I'm trying to kill myself. It is because I feel numb and empty and I would give anything just to feel anything other then that emptiness. Another reason is because of the hate and anger I have towards myself. Everyday I wish I could stop doing it, but in many ways it has saved me from doing something worse. I would not suggest ANYONE to start cutting though. I wish I could have found another way to cope, but I have a therapist and I am learning other ways to cope. I am also on medication, but I am trying to find one that works for me. When it doesn't work you need to try something else and sometimes that can take up to 8 weeks to kick in.

I'm not sharing my story to cause people to worry. I'm posting this so that if anyone out there struggling with this, they can know they are not alone. That they are loved and that you make this world brighter because you are here. Never give up! There is help out there. Take it from someone who is still in the middle of it. I know it's hard. Every day to wake up and get out of bed is a struggle. But even if you get out of bed, get dressed and lie down on the couch, that is something to celebrate. You got up, you tried. You can feel proud of yourself. I'm proud of you!! And if you feel like you can't keep going or you feel that you can't do it for yourself, do it for someone else. 

For me, I have a few people I do it for: my football kids, my friends in Utah and Montreal, my adopted families, and the biggest one of all is the smallest person in my life. Aunty Vicky loves you little one.. always and forever! I want people to know they are alone, Don't feel that no one cares because no matter where you are in this world one person does care...me! Thanks for reading. Feel free to share with your friends, share it with your kids. Start the conversation so we can get rid of the stigma surrounding mental health. There is nothing wrong with being depressed

Monday, November 21, 2016

Christopher Allen Grant's Story. Poems about his Depression.

When I was in despair several years ago I wrote these lines....

I cannot say I always shone a light upon the troubled demons of my mind,..

during lonely nights of fear and dread...

paralysed....

wishing I were dead.....

but no one knew I'd almost given up...

because only deep despair filled my cup. 

Then I took my troubles to  the Lord and soon wrote two poems back to back...this is the first....

When I was at my lowest 

and my heart was broke again....

He threw His arms around me... saying..Come! I am your friend....

I'll lift your troubles from you....every sorrow, pain and care....I only ask you love 

me and your burdens I will bear. 

And..

For every tear on Earth that's 

shed...an angel sheds one too..for in the realm where angels tread..the heavens weep with 

you...and though you think you cry alone....it simply is not true...so be of cheer and dry your

eyes...your guardian angels sympathize. 


I also wrote one about my wife ...it's called Not Sorry ....

When I was at my lowest 

and my heart was broke again...I heard an angel calling me...I'm here you have a friend....a 

comfort I could count on with words of wisdom sent and a loved I carried with me 

everywhere I went...I never meant to love you nor sorry that I did...my heart was always

open and its contents never hid..so.I throw my arms around you and whisper in your 

ear.....I'm grateful that you loved me when my heart was full of fear.


I deal with.chronic depression all the time but I don't let it define who I am or what I believe. This life is a time of trial and temptation. It is how we manage these things in our lives that matter. l am so thankful to have the Lord on my side and my family who love and support me. I hope these lines may help you too.

Sunday, November 20, 2016

My Story of Hope by Shantelle Avery

I almost called this story "My Depression Story" but that sounds kind of... well... depressing.  I decided to change it to "My Story of Hope" because that's why I am sharing it-- to offer hope and peace to those trapped in the darkness of their own struggles.


I've felt these little nudges several times in the last few weeks to share my thoughts, feelings, and experiences, but I have pushed them aside every time.  Then last night I was at the General Women's Broadcast, and I knew through the burning I felt in my chest that I needed to take the time to write and express my story, because it can be a source of light and hope for someone else.  So here goes sharing something very personal to me-- my journey through depression.  It's hard to know how to write such a story as this, so bear with me as I try to express the deepest feelings in my heart.  And consider yourself warned now that this will be long!

I had experienced depression before in high school, but nothing like I did from January 2013-June 2016, the period of time when this story takes place.  I can't pinpoint exactly when it started or why it started, just that it was almost like the flipping of a switch, suddenly turning off nearly all of the light and happiness in my life.  Unfortunately, this switch flipped just a few months before I started dating my husband, so the first 2 1/2 years of our marriage were hard.  I needed him and had very little to offer in terms of emotional support.  I was not myself and I desperately wanted him to know that.  I will forever be thankful for him when I think of the long, tear-filled nights and the strength and patience he offered to me when I was in such great need.  I know for a fact that Heavenly Father provided him to me right at that time so that everything would be alright like it is now.

It was my second year of college at BYU-Idaho, and I suddenly knew no one, not a single person.  All of my friends and past roommates were either on missions or at home for their off-track.  I stayed in Rexburg for the winter semester to work, but I was so lonely.  I remember sitting in my room in the evenings when I wasn't busy working and feeling the loneliness envelope me.  I had already been so brave to go to college alone the year before, and I had met wonderful people, and now I was starting over.  For some reason, probably the depression already developing inside of me, this felt like too much for my heart to handle.  It was only a little while later when I connected with my roommates and when I met my husband, but the tears still didn't stop, even when I felt the warmth of friendship surround me.

Then on top of that, I ended up not serving a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints as I had planned, because I felt in my heart that it wasn't right.  This made me question all the answers I had ever received to my prayers or if what I thought I had received were even answers at all.  It also made me feel incredibly afraid of becoming a mom, because I had thought before that serving a mission would be my gospel preparation for motherhood.  I don't know why I thought that, but I did, so taking it away made me feel completely inadequate.
Only a few short weeks later, my husband and I started dating.   I didn't realize this until much later when I looked back on it, but I had dating anxiety, not the going on dates part, but the having to choose who to marry.  I was deathly afraid of making the wrong choice.  I was afraid of not seeing some "red flags" and having my marriage crumble.  With the beginning of our dating being just a few weeks after my experience of doubting my answers to prayers, I felt unable to pray to ask God if I was doing the right thing and receive an answer.  This left me an emotional mess during our dating time.  I didn't cry that often when we were together and most of the time I truly enjoyed myself while we were together, but when the nights came and we went to our separate apartments, the fear and sadness took over.  I knew everything about him was right and was exactly what I had been looking for, but my doubts in myself were overwhelming.  I had some special experiences that helped me keep moving forward, but it was so hard and definitely nothing like what I imagined it would be.  Eventually I opened up to him about my fears and doubts and he accepted them with such love and compassion.  I felt at a complete loss of words to explain the whole array of thoughts running laps through my brain, but I was able to tell him enough to feel calm for the time.  Somehow, I was able to move forward with faith and courage to keep dating and to say "yes" to getting married, even though my mind and my heart were confused about everything.

It all happened so quickly, our dating, engagement, and wedding.  It was right and we both knew it.  We felt very impressed that we needed to get married quickly.  Little did we know at that time that a beautiful, excited baby girl was ready to join our family soon, but that definitely didn't lessen the intense pain and fear I felt.












Our wedding day came and I was filled with peace while we were in the Nauvoo Temple.  I felt God's love and His approval of my life in a way that I had not felt for months.  It didn't feel super intense, but I felt it just enough.  I compare it in my mind to looking through a window at something vs. being outside and really experiencing it.  You can see all the same things through the window, but you don't get the full experience of smelling the fresh air, feeling the breeze, touching the delicate flower pedals, etc.  The window blocking my ability to fully experience everything at that time was depression.  But I felt peace, and I relied on the remembrance of those feelings of peace for weeks and months to come.

The weeks and months after I got married were very difficult for me.  I was happy in the sense that I was married to the man I loved with all my heart and we were starting a wonderful life together, but I didn't actually feel happy.  Instead, I felt sad about everything and nothing all at the same time.  He was so good to me; he took care of me, he loved me, and he expressed that love often, but I felt empty inside and often felt that I had done the wrong thing by getting married.  I felt darkness and fear and pain where I should have felt light and carefree happiness. 

Sometimes the pain would turn into panic.  It would squeeze my heart so tight that I would struggle to breathe.  It was awful, completely awful!  Once while I was working as a chemistry tutor, I started to feel this breath-stealing panic.  I had my laptop with me, so I started typing in how I felt and realized that this was a panic attack.  After knowing what to call them, I noticed that I was having several a day and never went a day without having at least one.

I didn't know how to explain what I felt to anyone and I was so afraid that if I tried they would think bad things about my husband.  After all, I was supposed to be so happy at this time in my life.  So instead of opening up to anyone, I closed the lid to my box of emotions, wrapped it in paper, and tied it with a ribbon.  I decided that no one would ever get in to know what I really felt.

Unfortunately, all of my emotions were too strong and I couldn't contain them no matter how hard I tried.  I cried every day for months.  Sometimes I would cry about how other people feel sadness and hurt and loneliness, sometimes about how inadequate I felt as a wife and a future mom, sometimes about how I was sure that Heavenly Father was so disappointed in me.   It was agonizing and exhausting trying to hide such intense, unidentified emotions.  And it took every ounce of courage and strength to open up to my husband about how I felt instead of hiding my emotions from him just like I did to the rest of the world.

One day after having a long night of crying the night before and having the residue of red, puffy eyes, an old co-worker saw me and gasped, "Shantelle, you look awful!  The light is missing from your eyes.  Is your marriage going ok?"  I was so upset and didn't know what to say.  I walked away sobbing, knowing that I had blown it.  I had let someone see the sadness I felt, the sadness that had absolutely nothing to do with my husband, and yet he was the one being blamed for it.  I felt ashamed in myself that I wasn't stronger.  It was so hard feeling emotions like these without a source to blame.  No one ever told me that depression can come on without a cause, that it's just a chemical imbalance and doesn't have to be explained, so I thought something must be wrong with my life, with me.

Despite all this sadness, I did begin to feel a deep gratitude and love for the Savior.  One morning I was biking to work and the thought came into my mind that the Savior took these awful feelings on Himself so that He could understand me right then.  I was overwhelmed as I thought about how He had taken this one awful trial on Himself, along with all the other trials I had faced and ever would face.  Then to think that He also did this for every person who has lived and who ever will live.  It was more than I could bear to comprehend and I cried the whole way to work imagining what that must have been like for Him.  I am still in awe of this.

Well, my life continued on and I continued trying to feel happy.  I occasionally really felt the happiness that I knew was trapped under the dark blanket of depression, and those times were very good.  I got into the nursing program at BYU-Idaho and felt genuinely excited.  Then I started and only did it for a week before I found out that I was pregnant, and I was super genuinely excited about that too.  Looking back, I am so glad that I got pregnant right at that time for a couple of reasons.  1) It gave me a reason to stop doing the nursing program which would have been too emotionally taxing for me at the time when I already had so little to give. 2) It gave me a source to blame my past months of emotions.  I mean, everyone talks about being emotional during pregnancy, so I could just say that's why I was feeling sad, right?  I really believe that was a huge tender mercy because it was the first step to me opening up and telling someone how I felt.

After a few weeks of intense anxiety and sadness, I decided to talk to the bishop at my church.  I honestly felt like he was the only one who could calm my heart since he could help me know that I was not failing at life, that I had not committed some grievous sin, and that Heavenly Father was not deeply disappointed in me.  I visited with him several times in the coming weeks and over time he was able to help my heart find some peace and calm from the storms that were raging.  I am so thankful to this day that I was blessed with a wonderful bishop at that time who was there for me when I needed comfort and peace.

Because of dropping out of the nursing program and switching my major to health science, I was able to meet another wonderful person who played a crucial role in my journey.  Her name is Amy and she was doing an internship at the same nursing home I was at.  From the first day we met, I knew that I needed her friendship and that she would be a rock in my life.  Unfortunately for her but fortunately for me, she was able to relate to my struggles in a very real way, not because of her own experiences but because of the experiences of a close family member.  I trusted her and opened up to her more than anyone else besides my husband and my bishop.  Heavenly Father definitely sent her as an angel to me when I was in great need.

I went to a regular OB/GYN appointment for my pregnancy and told the doctor that I was feeling depressed and would like to try taking a medication to help.  The fact that I did this showed just how hard it was, because up until that time, taking a medication for depression would have been a last resort.  In some ways it was.  I felt so desperate for relief for my tattered, bruised, torn, shattered heart.  I didn't know how much more it could take.  I started taking a medication but it did little to nothing to help.  I kept taking it without telling anyone that it wasn't working and accepted the fact that I would feel sad for the rest of my life.  I didn't know how I would get through the next day, let alone the rest of my life, but I accepted that somehow I would do it.


A few short months later, Brooklyn was born.  The moment I met her, I was able to feel real love and happiness and thankfulness for her.  That feeling lasted only until we got home from the hospital, when everything suddenly came crashing down.  It might have felt more like it a crash because of the emotional high I had just experienced, but it really was a new level of intensity that I had not before experienced.  Now I had the addition of someone who depended on me, someone who needed love and support even more than I desperately needed it.  I was completely overwhelmed at my role as a mom.  Partly because it is such a sacred role and I knew that, but also because I never knew my husband's mom and so everything I heard about how perfect or wonderful she was placed a huge burden on my shoulders, a burden that was impossible to carry because of how irrational it was.  I cannot even begin to count the number of hours I cried in fear that I would never be able to be a good mom to my sweet girl.  I'm so glad for the progress I've made and that I never have to go back to that scary time again!

After Brooklyn was born, I was able to go back in to the doctor and try another depression medication.  This one did wonders.  I actually started to feel happy again, real genuine happiness.  I felt energy that I hadn't felt in over 1 1/2 years and I started to feel a little bit like myself again.  I still had my moments of hurt, especially when I would forget to take the medicine or would refuse to take it because I wanted to be happy on my own, but it really did lift my spirits and give me hope.

I started getting brave and sharing with others that I struggled with depression.  I felt like I had a good network of supportive, loving friends who I could turn to when I needed help.  Then we moved to Iowa and my group of friends was gone.  I had been doing so well, but this was one giant step back.  Once again, I felt like I had to hide how I felt so that no one would know that I took an anti-depressant and that I struggled with depression.

It got so bad that I stopped eating all of my meals except dinner and often would do nothing all day except nap and try to do something little with Brooklyn.  I could hardly function.  Once my husband would get home from work, I could function again because he motivated me through his love and support (most often without even saying a word), but during the day I was practically useless.

After a couple months of living in Iowa, everything got worse.  I remember so perfectly the evening when I was sitting on the couch next to my husband after we had a little disagreement.  I had been thinking for the last couple of weeks that I didn't want to go on, but after that disagreement, I made the decision that I would end my life the next day.  I was sitting there thinking about how I would do it and what time so that my husband could get home shortly after to take care of our daughter.  I still get so emotional and scared thinking that I reached the lowest of lows and really contemplated something so serious.  He could see that I was upset and asked what was wrong.  For some reason, I actually told him what I was thinking.  I told him that I wanted to die and that I was sitting there at that moment planning it all out.

Of course he was worried, just as I was.  We talked for a long time and I promised him that I would hold on through the next day no matter how hard it was.  He was an absolute saint and did basically everything for me during that time.  We set up a schedule for my days and even made a points system to help me have some motivation to stay productive and to do the basic things that I had been neglecting.

But still, the thoughts of death continued every day, lingering in my mind from the moment I woke up to the moment I fell asleep, even on the fairly good days.  I wanted to die, because then I could be a memory to my husband and daughter and they could remember only the good things about me.  I felt like I wanted to be gone so that I wouldn't do more "damage" than I felt I had already done.  I was scared that Brooklyn and our other future kids would find out that I had taken an anti-depressant and that I had struggled and they wouldn't love me.  I was intensely afraid of not measuring up to my husband's "expectations" and not being everything that Brooklyn needed.  I was sure in my mind that she would harshly compare me to others someday and would be disappointed that I was her mom instead of someone else.  All of these sound so irrational now, but at the time, they were all too real.

I didn't know how to fight these thoughts when they were so active in my mind.  It was more than I felt I could bear, and definitely more than I could fight off with just positive thinking.  After 5 months of battling and fighting my own thoughts, my husband and I decided that I needed to go see a counselor.  The morning of my appointment, I gathered together all the courage I had and wrote a post on Facebook about my struggles.  I was overwhelmed with love and support and knew that everything would turn out alright in the end.  


The counseling appointment went well and I continued going to counseling for several more weeks.  It felt so good to be able to tell someone everything about how I felt and to know that I wasn't being judged or criticized.  I felt safe with her and with other friends who shared their struggles after my post on Facebook.

After several counseling appointments, I was able to stop seeing the counselor and to move forward with some things that had been causing me great turmoil.  I was able to put the past behind me and look forward to a bright future.

In July, I was even able to go off of my anti-depressant and have been off of it since.  That is such a huge thing for me given my long and painful journey and my dependence on that medication after having Brooklyn.

Right now, in this moment, I feel so many things:

  • Emotional about telling my story
  • Slightly scared about putting my deepest emotions out there for others to read
  • Thankful for a Savior who truly understands everything we go through
  • Thankful for a husband who has never given up on me and who has supported me even when I was incredibly frustrating and irrational and impossible to understand
  • Thankful for a daughter who has brought so much light into my life and who loves me despite my imperfections
  • Thankful for the tender mercies God has given to me to help me, especially my friends and family
  • Thankful for my life
  • Thankful for medication
  • Thankful for depression which has helped me to see and feel and understand things that I never would have known otherwise

http://findingjoythroughdepression.blogspot.ca/