Yes, I am depressed. It comes and goes; and I do truly believe that we all have to go through our bad days, no matter the situation. This is a little more than a bad day, though. I don’t want sympathy. I don’t want extra donations for our Great Strides walk. I don’t want pity. I certainly don’t want anyone to worry about me. I am functioning just fine, and this is nothing that keeps me in bed all day, although some days I wish that was possible. I just want to say it out loud.
I prefer to live in a certain state of denial. Lyla is really thriving, and anything terribly negative regarding her having Cystic Fibrosis, just hasn’t really come up that much. Why should I worry about the idea of her having a difficult time conceiving a baby someday (possible), when we could be in our backyard blowing bubbles and laughing and dancing? She may not even want to have children someday (but I hope she does, because she makes my life). We’re so used to our day-to-day treatments and medications, that again, the weight of all of this just doesn’t really dawn on me; until I’m forced to acknowledge it.
There has definitely been a pattern of my acting out, starting about a week before her clinic appointments, and it usually subsides the second her appointment is over, unless it’s not a great appointment. In my case, it’s irritability and impatience (mostly while driving); wanting to eat junk; not wanting to look presentable (odd for me); and just general inactivity. Luckily, I have a 3 year old and a puppy dog to entertain, daily. They keep me accountable and in check. They get me outside walking and playing; and quiet in the car when I want to scream at someone to “hurry the f up!” It’s fine to keep these things in check, but that doesn’t solve the problem. The “problem” being how I deal with something so heavy and life changing. For the record, I still have no idea how to handle it. I may never quite figure it out. In fact, I’d be shocked if anyone ever did figure it out, completely.
What’s strange, is what got me really thinking about all of this. I’ve known that things have felt “off” but I haven’t been ready to figure it out. I haven’t even wanted to try. I’m not even sure if I’m ready to try, now. It does feel pretty damn good just admitting how sad this all makes me, though. Back to what got me thinking: as many of you know, we’re taking part in Great Strides this year (a charitable 5K, for Cystic Fibrosis research), and I have genuinely been so touched by how supportive our friends and family have been. Truly, it has been incredible. My mom asked me if I was excited for the walk. And there it was. While I’m excited for Lyla, and my husband who has been a rockstar, the short answer is “not really.” I know how that sounds. It sounds horrible. I can show up and smile, and feel genuinely so appreciative, but it is still a reminder of this genetic disease that my precious baby happens to have; and that could really affect her life negatively down the line. It’s incredibly odd to love someone more than anything in the entire world; but feel hateful of something that’s a huge part of their life. It’s also tricky, because I hope that I’m raising her to have a positive and proactive outlook on her CF, while letting herself feel blue when she needs to feel it. I tell myself that I need to always be so strong for her, but I’m afraid that I can’t keep that up, without some help.
This is the first thing in my life, that has made me think that it’s time to talk to a therapist. I’m actually looking forward to it, and am starting to think that more people should be open to this kind of self care.
It’s definitely worth mentioning, that while Lyla’s diagnosis depresses me, being her mother makes me whole. It is my purpose, and my greatest joy. Raising her is a dream come true.
You should also know that I’m ok with everything said. To me, it’s just life. Giving myself permission to admit that it sucks, is huge though, and I highly recommend it.
XO Lyla’s mother
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