"Officially Clinically Diagnosed."

I finally bit the bullet and went in to talk to my doctor on Monday. I told him everything, even the things I didn't want to tell him.

I told him I was overwhelmingly sad.

I told him I had a hard time willing myself to do even the slightest task.

I told him I had absolutely no idea why I felt this way.

They gave me a psychological evaluation - a barrage of questions relating to my mood and habits. I got to the question, "Do you feel as though you are consistently on the verge of crying?" I started to cry. Right there and then. Check! As I moved through the questions I felt more and more disheartened. Then I reached this question: "Do you sometimes feel as though you are useless and that people would be better if you weren't around?" I broke down. Sobbed like a baby as I sat alone in the doctor's office. By the time the doc came back in I was an absolute mess.

He asked me a few more questions, looked over my evaluation, and then said as nicely as he could, "Well, you can now consider yourself officially, clinically diagnosed with depression."

Awesome...

I mean I already had a pretty good idea that I had depression, but to hear it from a doctor is kinda rough. We talked medication since this is obviously a chemical imbalance and he put me on Wellbutrin. I absolutely, positively HATE that I have to be medicated for this. Part of me thinks I just need to pull myself together and CHOOSE to be happy. I'm in control of my emotions, dammit!

But the fact is I'm not. And that sucks big time.

That said, I'm proud of myself for finally getting this taken care of. I'm feeling so much better about my future and I'm excited to see how this medication will make me feel and how much it will change my life.

I feel kinda weird posting this on a public blog... It's like I'm openly admitting to the world that I'm crazy or something. But like I said a few posts back, this blog is my journal of sorts, and I want it to be honest. I want it to reflect what I'm going through at any given time, even if it's not picture perfect. I appreciate people who are open and honest about how difficult life can be at times, and I want to be one of those people too.

Thanks everyone for your love and support. I really, really appreciate it.

Conversation with the 5-Year-Old

 Me: I'm going to get you and Ollie something to eat while I finish getting ready.

Taylor: But I already have clothes on.

Me: No, I said I'd get you something to EAT.

Taylor: Ooooh, okay. But first could you get me something to eat?

Me: *sigh*...

Project: Organize the junk drawer!

Anyone's junk drawer look something like this?

I think that's about what every junk drawer in the world looks like - just a messy drawer where you throw all those little odds and ends you don't know what else do to with. Problem is it gets progressively more and more "junky," to the point where you can't find what you need and if you're anything like me all that junk starts spilling out onto your counters or into other drawers in the kitchen. No bueno.

So here's a little challenge from me to you - take 20-30 minutes out of your day and get that drawer under control! Here are the simple steps to taming that junk drawer.

1. Take everything out of the drawer. EVERYTHING. While it's empty, take a damp cloth and wipe out the inside of the drawer. It probably hasn't been cleaned in ages, eh?

2. Sort, sort, sort! Sort like items together and make three separate piles - items that need to go back in the drawer, items that need to go somewhere else in the house, and garbage to throw away. You'll be surprised how much garbage has been taking up precious space in this drawer!

3. Use what you've got to get organized. I don't have the time or money to go out and buy a bunch of organizing containers, but I do have an abundance of tupperware containers that I don't particularly like for food. They fit just right in my junk drawer though!

4. Sort like items into containers. Think about what you use most often, and what you only need to get to every once in a while. That way things won't get shuffled around too much once everything is nicely in place.

5. Admire your work! Doesn't this look so much better? I keep opening the drawer every time I go into the kitchen just to look at how organized everything is.

Now for the real challenge - keeping it that way! Organizing your home doesn't take hours and hours. You can get a lot accomplished just by taking a little sliver of time out of each day.

Silly Boys

I haven't posted many pics of the boys lately so I thought I'd better do that before I get harassed from the grandparents. Enjoy!

I'm so happy that these two little muchkins have started playing together more often. Makes my life so much easier!

Bad Haircut.

I love my stylist. LOVE her. I've been going to see her for years and I've loved every haircut I've had from her.

Well, up until now that is...

This makes me so sad. She just completely butchered my hair. That's the only way I can describe it. Guess I've got to look for a new salon to go to... Boo.

Project: Turn your kitchen window into a spice rack!

Before I get into this how-to I just want to say thank you to everyone who voiced their love and concern about my previous blog post. I appreciate the support of everyone around me and feel very loved and very thankful. I know things will get better.

Okay, with that out of the way, I'd like to share this SUPER simple tutorial with all of you!

When we first moved into our house I was so excited about how much more room I had in my new kitchen, but there was one major problem - I had absolutely no wall space for a spice rack. At first I thought I'd just put them in one of my cupboards, but I've tried that before and it just doesn't work; spices get pushed to the back or knocked over and it takes forever to find what I need. I cook a lot and use a lot of different spices, so I need them to be out and easily accessible.

My husband and I brainstormed about it for a while, then realized that we could utilize the kitchen window over our sink! We took a quick trip to the home improvement store and after wandering around forever trying to find something that would work we came across pre-painted pine boards that were just the right size - about 2 inches deep and 3/4 of an inch thick - just perfect for spices. We bought one board and cut it down to make two shelves that were the dimension of the window.

Now to decide on how to mount them to the wall. I needed the shelves to be easily removable so I can take them down when I need to wash the window, and I wanted something as inconspicuous as possible. Sean came up with something pretty ingenious. He bought a pack of little metal shelf brackets - the kind with a peg that you'd put in an adjustable bookshelf. He mounted the brackets to the wall with screws, then drilled holes in the shelves that the pegs could rest in. It worked perfectly! It holds really well and if I need to take the shelves down I just have to lift them off the pegs.

Moral of the story: You can always find the extra space you need if you get creative!

A tough post...

 I know I don't normally write super personal things on this blog; it's mostly for family and friends to see pictures of the boys and to read about what our family has been up to. I try to keep it light and fluffy for the most part. However, I feel like I also want this blog to be real. I want it to reflect me and what I think and feel at any given time - even when things are tough. I want what I write to be honest.

That being said, what follows will probably be depressing to read. I don't write it to gain pity from anyone; I write it because I want to remember what I'm going through at this very moment. I want to be able to look back on this time and be grateful I've come out the other side intact. So here goes.

I'm completely and totally convinced that I have severe depression. I've been concerned about it and struggled with bouts of depression for quite some time, but I've always convinced myself that something else was to blame - I'm just stressed about money, it's just that time of the month, I'm just having a bad day. It's so easy for me to make up excuses as to why I'm feeling or acting a certain way.

I think sometimes it takes something big, momentous, and devastating to wake us up to the reality of a situation; to hit "rock bottom" if you will. My rock bottom came this last week. I had spent most of the week in a dark hole - I would drag myself out of bed in the morning when Sean left for work, sit on the sofa, and stare out the window for the rest of the day. I couldn't will myself to move even if I wanted to. As usual I told myself I was just having a bad day. Or days. Or week. As I sat my thoughts spiraled downward farther and farther. It was as if I had a voice in my head telling me that my life was awful, that nothing would ever be good again, that I was useless and helpless and nobody loved me. I sat in this dark cloud, feeling lonely and constantly berating myself for being a terrible mother and wife.

Then one night I snapped. Sean was working late and the kids were in bed. I stood in my empty kitchen staring out the window into the darkness for what felt like hours. I felt beat down. I felt like I was tired of fighting a battle I could never win. I walked over to my computer, turned on some music, laid on the kitchen floor, and started drinking whiskey. I drank and drank and drank. I don't know how much I drank, and at the time I didn't care. I just didn't want to feel anymore. I didn't want to think anymore. Unfortunately the alcohol had the opposite effect on me - my thoughts began to get darker, harsher. The things I told myself were things I would never imagine telling my worst enemy. I started to cry. I laid there on the freezing floor in my kitchen and bawled my eyes out. And the more I cried the worse I felt. I would be lying if I said my thoughts didn't briefly turn suicidal. Of course I put a stop to that thought as instantly as it popped into my head. And I think that's what finally snapped me out of it. I stood up (as best I could under the circumstance), blew my nose, picked up my blanket, and went to bed.

The next day I had a long and uncomfortable conversation with Sean. I think I have depression. Like real depression. A chemical imbalance that I cannot control, no matter how hard I try. We decided I needed to call my doctor and get put on medication. I've got an appointment with him in two weeks. To be perfectly honest I'm terrified and I feel like even talking about having depression feels like a cop-out. I keep trying to tell myself to just pull myself together. Pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and grow up. But then I just sit, with no will to move, no will to do anything. I need to be medicated. I need help more than I have ever needed it.

Now I don't want any of you to worry about me. I feel okay now, and I have an incredibly supportive husband who is helping me every second of the day to cope with what I'm feeling right now. I'm putting forth my best effort to do all I can to keep going, to get on my feet and clean my house and take care of my children and do the things I used to love doing. I know that this is just another hurdle life has thrown my way and I know I will conquer it. It'll just take some time and it'll take me surrendering to the process and accepting the fact that depression is a real thing that requires real treatment.

On top of all of this I am also struggling with some difficult personal matters. I recently had a falling out with both of my best friends, and although I know this didn't cause my depression, it isn't helping it either. I know that I have an amazing and loving family, but as most women know there's just nothing like the closeness and companionship of a girlfriend. This is just another area in my life where I have to try to pull myself together and move on. People in our lives come and go, and sometimes the best thing to do is try to accept it, enjoy the memories you had together, and go your separate ways. It's a tough pill to swallow, but I don't really have another choice.

It feels good to be able to write this blog post. It's therapeutic in some way to lay out all the thoughts and struggles I've had going on in my head for so long. I think it's part of a long process I'm just starting, one that will help me finally find the light at the end of the tunnel and come out the other end a stronger, less vulnerable woman.