Depression smells like waffles, because that’s what Cody makes for everyone when I’m too sad to function.

Tonight was supposed to smell like barbeque, fresh peas and watermelon.

But sad won.

I haven’t lost it completely, I haven’t broken down into that terrible ugly cry that requires a dozen tissues and causes your eyes to hurt for the next 24 hours. But I did just catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and it doesn’t look good.

This hurts really bad, and when I’m out of it I can appreciate that this is my trial. That I am strong enough to make it through each episode in one piece and use my experiences to help others.

When I’m out of it for a long time I can always brush it off as “not that bad.”

“It could always be worse.”

But shit, when I’m in it.

I forgot how bad this hurts.

Words can still make it out of my fingers, but when they try to come out of my mouth they get trapped, confusing and tear stained.

There’s no easy way out. There’s no pill. There’s no nap long enough. There’s no shot. There’s nothing in the world that can fix this but time.

The thought of being one on one with both little girls all day tomorrow terrifies me. Addie hasn’t really seen me like this since I was pregnant with Vivi.

I talk with her often about my brain, and how hard I work to keep it working well.

Tomorrow I’m going to have to try to explain that my brain won this round.

Or I’m going to have to fake it and lie.

It’s so hard knowing people are going to need me tomorrow when I can barely function myself.

I don’t know how Cody loves this. How he continues to fight so hard for me when I can’t fight for myself.

When I’m like this I see nothing worth fighting for. Who’s to say the real me is coming back?

The biggest difference between me now and me eight years ago is I know there’s something, somewhere inside me worth fighting for.

Even if I can’t see it.

It’s what keeps me floating above self harm. I know it’s down there, but I know it won’t make things better.

So I sit here sad, knowing this isn’t my fault, and working to get better.

(And when I say “working to get better” it means not resorting to drinking heavily and letting my kids wander around the neighborhood alone. Go me.)

I don’t want to be friends with myself right now.

So hopefully you’ll understand why I don’t answer my phone or my door.

I’ll be okay, probably not today. Or tomorrow. But eventually.

There’s something to be learned in all this pain.

And I know it’s worth sticking around long enough to find out what it is.

Totally unrelated:

These thighs.

Comments

  1. Sending love.
    I’m learning to love through this with my son right now. It’s so hard, but you’re so worth it.
    My heart aches for you.

  2. ((hugs))

  3. you are in my heart.

  4. It hurts me to know your hurting. I’m hugging you from a 150-ish miles away my dear. The sun will rise every day, and so will you.

  5. Cody loves you for many, many reasons. No singular reason will change that.

    If there was one thing that could be said to take these feelings away from you, I’d be at the end of a long line of wonderful people who would be lined up to say it to you. You are stronger than you think, and when you aren’t, we are strong for you. Lean on us. We are here.

  6. Oi. You. Me. Let’s kick this bitch’s ass. Seriously. This thing is eating me alive right now. Kind of wishing for some cigarettes. Like sooooo bad.

    Thank you for sharing. It helps me feel human.

    It’s not you. It’s the stupid D-pression.

    YOU are awesome.

    Even if you don’t feel like you are.

  7. I hope it doesn’t sound totally weird to say that I wish I lived close enough and we were friends so I could just come over tomorrow and help you and make it easier. Since I don’t, I will send you every good thought and prayer I can muster and hope with you that it gets better soon. Sending you lots of Internet love, lady.

  8. There’s nothing wrong with faking it. If you can. And nothing with not, if you can’t. You’re doing great. This stuff is hard. Love is strong.

    I’m here if you need me.

  9. If we lived closer, I’d have my eleven year old and seven year old entertain your two with gymnastics in the yard and making homemade ice cream in plastic sandwich bags (it….doesn’t taste that great but they have fun doing it) if it would make your day easier.

    Sending hugs and love.

  10. Allyson says:

    Somedays we feed the kids cereal for each meal, and watch cartoons while the kids destroy the house with toys. We manage to muster enough energy to change diapers or put them in bed. Somedays this is as good as it gets and that’s ok, because it will be better. You’re right maybe not tomorrow or the next day but soon. The best part is that you are at the point in this that you can recognize this for what it is. A ****ty illness that pops up when you least expect it. You’ll get through tomorrow and the next day and you will smile again. In the meantime I’ll be thinking of you … a fellow depression sister.

  11. Jessica says:

    I was just saying to a friend today how I felt like I was hungover, and I don’t drink. I can tell when I’ve had my really bad nights of depression because I just wake up heavy…it’s like, what just happened? I get it…many of us do, unfortunately.

    And yes, way to finish with those thighs…just keep looking at that picture if you have to.

  12. Nichole says:

    I’m sorry, and I’m thinking of you.

  13. I started reading your blog several years ago when i was depressed (well, still am). My heart and mind is with you, I’ve gone through many, many of those days! I know it is hard to go through each day, but that is all you need to do…get through each moment, hour, day- whatever bits of life you need to. This fellow Northside Hoosier will keep you in my thoughts!

  14. Sending you as much love as I’ve got in me, Casey. I know exactly how you feel. You are loved though, by Cody, your girls and many more. You’re in there, you’ll come back. ((Hugs)) <3<3

  15. Thoughts and prayers for you. For me. For everyone who has to feel this way b/c we have funky brains.

  16. The wheels fell off this week as well. I don’t know exactly why or how, but they did. Yesterday was horrible. I tried, really I did. The hubs and I discussed it today in fact. The good news is that I have had longer periods of “okay” and even some of it has been “GREAT”. After pushing my doctor for FOUR years, we did finally draw two conclusions as to why I am the way I am. Four years of tests, too many drugs to even keep track of (I burned my collection of Walgreen’s drug handouts in April. It took a while). There’s light at the end of the tunnel. I’ll pass along my flashlight to you, darlin’. You’ll get there. I know you will. xoxo

  17. Bethany says:

    I read your old posts when I feel like this. It will take time and you have friends to talk when you’re ready(me)

  18. I love you, sweet pea. I wish I lived next door so I could take the kids and play dollies and hair with them so you can rest. xo

  19. Broken brains, well they just suck! We all know that you’ll come out shining and smiling on the other end and we’ll be waiting. Ready to grab your hand and pull if needed.

    I kinda envy that your depression smells like waffles though. Waffles are yummy!

    Anyway, hugs and prayers for peace and light. xo

  20. I feel so much like this right now, too. :( I am (surprisingly) pregnant again, and I’m so disappointed in myself that I’m not over the moon. Instead, I’m sad and scared and embarrassed and feel like I’m standing at the edge of crazy, barely willing myself to stay stationary. I do a lot of pretending because I don’t know what else to do, but I’m not sure it helps. I hold onto the same thing you mentioned – I know it’s worth sticking around long enough, I know it won’t be like this forever. I remember feeling good and I know it will come again. You’re not alone. Don’t know if that helps you, but it helps me. (((hugs)))

  21. You’re totally worth it. We all see it. Trust us until you can trust yourself again.
    xoxo

  22. I love her thighs.

    I’ve never met Cody, but I love him for loving my Casey.

    you are worth it and more. You are amazing, and I love you for the strength you have, even when you don’t know you have it.

    LOVE YOU. you are loved.

  23. I can imagine what your head is making you feel like. You seem to have been “on” for several months in a row. There gets a point when I have been so enveloped in the hustle and bustle that when it settles down, and my brain takes over, it is overwhelming.

    I do live close by and do have kiddos close in age. I would love to help in any way possible if you ever are in a pickle. (((hugs))) You aren’t alone.

  24. Sending all the love your way.

  25. AprilDawn says:

    Thank you for sharing this. As someone who has dealt with depression and is dealing with it again, I understand where you are right now. Openly sharing where you are benefits more than you may know and allows others to reach out and help you. Bless you for the strength you clearly have and believe in those who are there for you now and always.

  26. I love you Casey. Hang in there. It is worth it.

  27. Much love and good thoughts sent your way. You are right – you are worth fighting for, even when you’re in a place where you can’t understand why. Remember that the way you feel right now, the person you believe you are right now – she is not the real you, and the real you will come back. This too shall pass. This battle you will win.

    Hang in there, Casey. You will get through this. You will put yourself back together because you are stronger than whatever it is that’s trying to break you. ♥

  28. i love you.

    there’s something about this time of the year. i am in deep, too. it hurts in a way that just doesn’t have words. i’m committing to not falling asleep forever, but only for a day at a time. tomorrow, i think. tomorrow if it’s still this unbearable, i’ll let myself go away.

    i love you.

  29. This: “And when I say “working to get better” it means not resorting to drinking heavily and letting my kids wander around the neighborhood alone. Go me.”

    That sums up exactly what I’ve been dealing with. The whole post does really. I’ve got just enough in me to adequately take care of my kids but not much else. It rough but your words help remind me that this too will end.

  30. I’m so sorry. I’ve been on the edge of that place lately.

  31. Sending my love and strength. You are a pearl of great price.

  32. Cheyenna says:

    Hugs to you. You are worth fighting for. And you will push through and it will be okay. Moment by moment. Be gentle on yourself in the meantime. Hugs and love.

  33. Hugs all around with I could wave a magic want and make it go away. Thank you for being so transparent. You help so many. <3 you!!

  34. I completely understand. *hugs* I have days like that at least once a week (most of the time, it’s 3-4 days/week). We need to get together sometime soon for lunch/dinner/just talking-hugging-crying. I love and miss you so much.

  35. I know what you mean… my brain has just turned on me as well. And I almost started crying when I read what you wrote because I feel exactly the same. Except that I don’t have much experience with the real me and it doesn’t feel like there’s really anyone fighting for me…

    I hope that you feel well soon. And I know it’s not easy. You have a lot to fight for though.

  36. Hang in there. You’re worth it

  37. I love you.

  38. sending love, hugs, and complete understanding.

  39. #lookforthelovely

    There. I fixed that picture for you.

    Seriously, depression can suck it. Pull out that love folder, Casey. Read each note and then all of these comments. I know it won’t make it better, but if I know the internet (and I’ve been around it for AGES), it’s good for one thing and that’s connecting people and bringing light to the very dark places. You are loved! Through depression and back. You are loved!!!!!!

    So put some nutella on those waffles and do what you need to do to make it through today. Nutella loves you, and so do I.

  40. Every part of me wishes I could fix it for you, but I know better than anyone that I can’t. Instead I’ll be here with a hug and boobs for you to snuggle. And also covered in cat hair, but I know you don’t mind.

    Cordoza.

  41. Angela S says:

    Bleh, I’m sorry friend. I’ve had a few days this month of staring blankly at the wall while the husband gets kids off to church or crying every morning, night and long in between. Keep trucking and good luck with faking it if that is the route you choose.

  42. This feels all too familiar to me sister. Especially wondering how someone else can love all of this mess. Hugs and prayers and positive thoughts!

  43. Christy Cruz says:

    Lots of love, hugs and prayers coming from Central Texas! Someone mentioned pulling out the love folder, do that, look at those thighs, and remember that people love you. I know it’s hard, but you will be back, soon. And that waffle smell? Lucky you!

  44. I admire you for coming out and saying all of this. You are an inspiration to so many. As one of my favorite country artists has sung before “If you’re going through hell
    Keep on going, don’t slow down
    If you’re scared, don’t show it
    You might get out
    Before the devil even knows you’re there”
    ((HUGS))

  45. it does get better and your are incredibly strong for getting through it. i hope the entire internet of people that love you can lift you up, and let you feel supported.

    Cody and your girls will love you no matter what. I can tell just from his writing.

  46. Praying for you today.

    xoxox

  47. Amy in StL says:

    Casey, I hope today brings you some peace. Its so hard to know you shouldn’t be sad; but to be sad anyway. I’ve felt it coming on lately. I’m tired all the time, I never want to do anything or see anyone; but I’m still fighting. Hang in there, we’ll all be on the other side of this dark place shining a light so you can find us.

  48. The fact that you find beauty in the thighs shows there’s hope, there’s a window for light to get in.

    Never give up.

    It’s all we got.

    Love to you.

    xo

  49. You’ve put into words what I’ve felt so often. That thing that keeps you floating above self-harm…I get it it. I’ve been there. Sending love and prayers your way.

  50. I was in the thick of it a couple of weeks ago, we were at a friends house and I just couldn’t do it. After no words came out, just tears that I was trying hard to choke back I left. I left and I drove and I drove and I drove. I thought about driving away, but I didn’t. I did fake it at work, but I would crumple when I got home. I was so thankful when that fog lifted and I could smile without wincing in pain. Love you lots girlie and I know you can get through this. If you need anything at all, I am just a car ride away. xo

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