Depression is a Bad Friend

My ol’ buddy depression decided to cling like a leach the last few days. I finally got it out of my head and shoved into a closet today. That is where it’ll stay until it breaks free.

During that time is probably when I needed to write most, but instead I spent a lot of time sleeping. I hid in my shell, not wanting much communication and craving it at the same time. I tried to get on WordPress some, to at least keep up with everyone’s posts, but my mind and heart weren’t in it. You all write such amazing posts and I felt I wasn’t absorbing the words I was seeing. I’m still trying to catch up on what I missed.

I wanted to write something more interesting, but my ol’ pal is banging on the closet door and it’s distracting. So instead, I’ll leave you with a couple of songs that help me drown out depression’s ruckus. Take care, everyone.

With love,


Skipped Doses

I’m struggling these last couple days. I kind of knew it would happen, but was hoping it wouldn’t. I’m now sitting in that uncomfortable place of just existing and randomly bursting into tears and just a splash of irritability. Ugh, I know better than to skip my nightly dose of Duloxetine (antidepressant). At least this time around it was for a good reason…well, sort of.

I only take it at night because it makes me drowsy and I already struggle with fatigue. I’ve noticed more and more lately, that when I take it any later than 7pm, I have a more difficult time waking up in the morning. On Sunday night, I accidentally missed my dose, but I woke up on time and got the kids ready and to school on time. Monday night and Tuesday morning, the same thing. Tuesday night, I took my dose late in the evening and Wednesday I slept through 10 alarms making the kids late for school. I do not want to be the reason that my kids have an excessive amount of tardiness at school, so Wednesday and Thursday, when I lost track of time and missed my 7:00pm dose, I skipped it altogether. I’m paying for it now, but at least the kids made it to school on time.

I am hopeful that next week will go much smoother and I will have my sh*t together. In the meantime, I’m so glad the weekend is here.

Thanks for letting me vent. I hope you all have a great weekend.

With love,


Ugly Crying by Myself

Yup, lots of tears the last few days, but today is especially bad. Feel really happy: burst into tears, see something sad: burst into tears, take a bite of turkey sandwich: burst into tears. You get the idea. I can’t decide if I’m relieved to be by myself so no one sees me ugly cry or if it makes me feel more lonely.

I’ve been bouncing between an almost euphoric state and absolute painful gut wrenching sadness over, well pretty much anything or nothing at all lately, and it’s exhausting. I don’t know how to keep up with my own emotions. I am thankful for the ones who ask if I’m ok and when I say “no”, they simply hug me because they know I may not have the answers to their questions. A lot of times people want to ask, “why are you feeling this way?”. Truth is many of us don’t know; we’re trying to make sense of it ourselves.

I’m used to the up down rollercoaster of emotions, but I feel like it’s intensified greatly over the last several months. I’ve been really good about taking my antidepressant regularly (except last night…oops), so I don’t think it’s that. I have been on the same medication for so long though, that maybe I need a different dose or something in addition to it.

I’ve noticed some other things with my mental well-being that are out of the ordinary for me, so I think it’s time for a little reevaluation. I have to tell you guys, I’m kind of proud of myself (I’m a big time procrastinator), but I actually called my insurance to help me find a psychiatrist and go back to my old psychologist. I have my first appointment with the psychologist on Monday. I feel like I’m taking a step in the right direction to take care of myself. In the past, I’ve done the same thing with therapy as I’ve done with medication, get to a point where I’m feeling good and then just stop because I don’t think I need it. I’m going to try very hard not to do that this time around.

With love,


Image from pixabay

Forcing Myself to Sew

In my last post, I talked about that feeling of just existing. I had really hoped that after more than a week, I would be in a much better place. I can’t really say that much had changed until last night.

A few months back I started getting really into sewing. I was finding that it was a great way to get my mind off of things that were troubling me. I had all these scraps of material and had found a couple of YouTube videos (linked just below) that really inspired me to start making scrappy quilts and bags. The Quilting Marine and Midnight Quilt Show. Here’s a few recent projects I did.

That feeling of just existing, however was bogging me down so much that I didn’t even want to sew at all. Last night, I was so fed up with the way I had been feeling, that I forced myself to go over to my sewing space (it consumes the front part of the living room…sorry, Honey). I dumped about half of my scrap fabric all over the floor. I began throwing them in the air and letting them fall back down…I like them all mixed up. This little task actually felt wonderful and made me giggle out loud. I felt a little like a kid, and that’s OKAY…I was feeling something good!

I peiced together five scrappy blocks that will eventually become a quilt. I’m so glad I forced myself to my sewing space; it seems to have lit a little spark. I can’t say that I’m in a great place today, but definitely a little better than I have been. I’ll take it!

What are some things you do to take care of your mental and emotional well-being?

Just Existing

I haven’t felt much like writing this past week. Honestly, I haven’t felt like doing much of anything. I haven’t been much in the mood for chatting. I scroll through Facebook mindlessly. I haven’t wanted to sew or make jewelry. I haven’t wanted to do housework. I haven’t wanted to shower (I have though, because well, it’s important), but then I just put pajamas or sweats back on. I think I’ve only put on real clothes once or twice this week. I’ve spent a lot of time sleeping (fibro, recovering from surgery, and a virus have made this worse). It’s safe in my bed, but then I feel such guilt for not spending enough time with my family.

Most days I haven’t been very happy, but not sad either. I’ve just been kind of existing. I don’t like it there…just existing…it frightens me. It feels so isolated and empty. It’s where I store my ‘f*#k-it-bucket’. The receptacle in which I place thoughts like, if I died in a car accident and other equally unpleasant thoughts. Just existing feels like I am completely without emotion and incapable of finding any that is genuine. Sure, you’ll see emotion from me, but if you know me well enough, you’ll realize that it doesn’t seem the same; it will seem more forced, because it is. Oddly enough, my moments of just existing are the times when my anxiety lowers. A trip to the store that I would normally have to build up the courage to take, suddenly isn’t scary. It’s hard to feel anxious when you’re not really feeling anything.

The just existing has taken breaks however, for moments of pure sadness. I’ve gone from feeling empty to feeling like there’s a giant hole in my heart, and sadness so intense it literally hurts my chest. I kept trying to supress that ache the last few days until last night. I could no longer push it down. I had a few total meltdowns, sobbing and aching deep inside with no explanation. Somehow, I think maybe it helped.

Today, I’m more on the the existing with a tad of happiness and a smidge of motivation. I never know when I’ll be thrown in a different direction, so for now I will take advantage of this the best that I can.

Take care friends.

With love, J♡

Was it Wrong to Become a Mother?

I would like to start by saying that, in no way, shape or form am I judging any other parent or anyone planning on having a family. This post is strictly meant to reflect the battle I have with myself. ‘Am I a bad person for choosing to have children?’ I ask myself quite often.

I have been battling depression and anxiety since I was just a kid myself. I know it doesn’t always run in families, but I can’t help but feel like I’ve doomed them to this destiny and I feel guilty as hell. I remember when my son was about two (first child), I was seeing my doctor to get back on my antidepressant. I was choking up as I asked the doctor if he thought my son would eventually have to take these too. He assured me that it was far to early to think about that, and if/when the time came, we would deal with it then. I am relieved to report that so far, at the ages of eleven and seven, they have not been diagnosed with any mental health issues. I have noticed though, that they are both very emotional children and I can’t help but be a little concerned about what their future may hold.

‘How can I teach them to cope, when I am still learning, myself?’ It’s normal for kids to feel a little anxious/nervous when going somewhere new or being around a large group of people right? But, how do I encourage them to go for it and that it’s ok, when I have spent the last couple of hours trying to build up the courage to go? Even large family gatherings where I know everyone, make me uncomfortable. This is nothing personal against my family, it’s just this feeling that I can’t quite explain.

On particularly down days, when I am struggling to cope with my own thoughts and feelings, or find them in the first place, how do I be a good mother? How do I smile and laugh at all their cuteness when I am feeling so completely empty? How do I have a conversation with them when my mind is everywhere else or nowhere at all?

These are just some of my inner battles as a mom that I will have to conquer one moment at a time. One thing I am sure of though, is that I love these kiddos with all my heart and so I will fight everyday, for them.

With love, J♡

A Poem About Depression

*Possible trigger warning* This something I wrote a while back on a not so good day.

The Cycle

This viscous cycle, it goes ’round and ’round

You can feel real high, then come crashing down

When you hit the bottom, you feel empty inside

Or you’re filled with emotions, but all you can do is cry

If you could, you’d run away from yourself

You’re dying inside, but can’t scream for help

You feel alone, though you’re surrounded

People look and they listen, completely dumbfounded

Others don’t understand what it is you’re going through

Then again, how could they, ’cause neither do you

You have to keep moving, better glue on that smile

Tell people you’re fine and hope you can lie for a while

You fake it long enough, that it starts to feel real

You’re flying high again, until the next ordeal

Sending hugs to those who need it – J♡

Stupid Little Happy Pill

Ok, so I have a sort of love -hate relationship with my antidepressant. We’ve been on again off again for the last 15 years. Two of our off periods were when I was pregnant with my kiddos, and the other breakups were because I felt I was too good for it. I unfortunately, have learned the hard way that we are meant to be together…forever. When you take an antidepressant, the last thing you want to do is stop taking them without being weaned off under the supervision of a doctor. Missing doses is not a wise move either. There have been times when this little happy pill made me feel normal and well, happy. The problem was that I started to feel so great I thought, ‘I don’t need this anymore’, but within about a week, my family could see the difference. So could I; I just didn’t want to admit it. I remember once (when starting our relationship again), I asked my doctor if I would need to take this for the rest of my life. His response was, “I would tell any patient taking this for the first time that they have a 50/50 chance of relapse if they stop. Given your history, your chance of relapse is higher”. Armed with this information, I’ve made a bigger effort to be committed to my relationship with the stupid happy pill. I still have days where I will miss a dose. Let me tell ya, I can feel it now if I miss more than two. It’s not pretty. My other struggle is that I have moments of guilt for having to take this in order to feel happy/normal. I know that I am blessed and have oodles to be happy about, but without this pill, it’s hard to feel. I was once told, “If it were medication for your heart, you would take it, right? Think of it that way; it’s something you need and that’s ok”. So, this is the mentality I’m trying to stick with. There’s no shame in doing what is best for your health. I’m married to the stupid little happy pill, till death do us part.

With love, J♡