There is a great chasm that is often found within the confines of moms, full of dark days and even darker nights, where they feel as though their worth is far less than anyone can imagine. They feel as though no rope is long enough to help lift them out of the ever deepening gulf that has swollowed their hopes and dreams. Here is a story of a woman who is still fighting this battle but hopes to bring comfort to someone that is in it as well. Here is a journal piece that she has allowed me to share.....
"It's still dark outside. I can literally feel the rain and the barometric pressure change as I lay in my bed. I keep wishing myself back to sleep but no, my brain will not allow it. Each morning begins this way; with a sudden awakening and a realization that I am still alive, and I am still here. I hate waking up; truth is I wish that I would never wake up. This is a very selfish thing to think because I have a family that is counting on me but I can't help it. My mind holds the realities of who I am too close to my heart; and so, here I lay with the constant barrage of images and affirmations of what my worth is, on replay and fast forward so that I don't miss a single one. "You're useless, you are a terrible mother, you're way too fat, you are definitely going bald, you are worthless, your husband and family would be better off without you,..." this list goes on and on. The ones about my family sting the most because in my heart I know that they are true. I am ruining them. Every day I ruin them just a little bit more. I would close my eyes to get away from it but when I do I see images of me ruining my family that back up the thoughts that are there on display. During my morning mental movie I also have the to do list playing in the back ground. Clean, Clean, Clean... Today is laundry day. I hate laundry day. But to be fair I hate most things right now. I hate how it sounds when the kids run through the house, I hate how it feels to see the living room a mess with play forts, I hate that I have worked so long and hard at cleaning the house and knowing that in about 30 seconds it will be destroyed all over again with toys and dress up clothes all things that bring joy to children of growing age. I know that these are things that people typically hate but for me it feels almost life and death. I HATE IT!!! My kids should be allowed to have a messy lunch and enjoy every second of it. They should know the joy of a properly made blanket fort and not be afraid of the final clean up. They should be allowed to blow bubbles and not worry about the slippery mess that can be easily cleaned up. I feel totally out of control when my kids want to go to a friends but even worse when they ask for one to come play over here. But they aren't even allowed these joys. Why?..you ask. The answer in short is Because of me. I feel as though my head and body are about to explode with the knowledge that there again I have to clean. I become angry when I look around and feel as though the only thing I am good for is being a maid. I Have found that my life as a house maid is the only thing that defines me any more. I no longer do the things that I loved when we first got married because a maids job never ends. ( Get up do breakfast, clean up, do laundry, clean bathrooms, bedrooms, living room, repeat every 5 mins until lunch. Then repeat again until dinner. Repeat again until bath and bed time.) It has been years since I have drawn or painted and those were things that I loved whole heartedly. When I take the kids to the park I do it with a sense of duty rather than love. I see on social media how families are enjoying water parks and fun in the sun, yet here I am wishing night would come so that they would go to bed and I would be allowed peace again for the night. I know that I chose to be a mom. This is a sacred duty that some will never be able to enjoy and yet here I am complaining about such trivial things. Trust me I get that this is a vacuous way to look at a life so blessed, but the darkness seems to seep in from every corner.
I already feel useless, worthless, a parent that is nothing short of a mistake. I hate what I see every time I look at my self in the mirror. So nothing anyone says will surprise me. But this is how I feel. I wake up being exhausted wishing it was bed time but then it becomes night and I wonder how did this all came about, when did I hate being me? I cannot recall when it all started but it felt worse right after my last baby was born. I really didn't get a chance to love him and feel like the mom of a newborn. I was sick and so was he. We both spent the first year of his life trying to get better. I remember the first 2 weeks of his life lying in bed with him next to me because I was too sick to get up and move. I had a really hard time bonding with him. I loathed the way I felt, sick, weak, and no way to sleep with a nursing baby. There were days that I felt if I moved too quickly my body would shut down and I would die right there. I was so scared that I called my family in and told them how I felt. They thought I was having anxiety attacks but I knew it wasn't. This was a constant feeling not something that would come and go like anxiety attacks would. Then Suddenly my baby became critically ill and was put in the hospital and there I sat holding him crying a deep hopeless cry that we both were in a predicament that I had no control over. I held him watching him fight for his life while I desperately held on to mine. Once out of the hospital he began to mend but truthfully I still have not. My body is still struggling to find that place of healing but my mind has become so lost in it all that it feels as though there is no hope of finding health and what is left of me after all of the trauma of birthing several children. 
It has been almost 2yrs now and i seriously feel more lost than ever. I am not even sure that I can pull myself out of this hole!'" My journal paints a dark picture. This has been my life for quite some time. I have felt lost and alone for so long that it is extremely difficult for me to allow you to read this . But here I am I have walked out of the bedroom disheveled and exhausted from a lack of sleep. I mindlessly go to the fridge for milk and make up bowls of cereal. The kids sit and eat and I watch. I cringe at the idea of the doing dishes, and yet somewhere inside I know that it will be ok to just let them sit while I write to you. You see I have a very good friend who began telling me about something she was discussing with her class it was on the art of war. In preparation for war people will build a wall around their city that is set upon a hill. This is for protection and also so that they can see what is coming. As the war descends upon them they see it afar off and can battle effectively. However once the battle reaches their wall a siege begins to take place. This siege will cut off their supply of food and also their communication. They will become isolated and feel all is lost. Once they are totally cut off then the enemy begins to pound and pound at the fortification with all sorts of battle efforts in order to bring down the city.
As she was telling me about this my mind began to swirl about with thoughts and emotions. I realized that me, as a person, as a mom and a wife, I was being attacked. This world and all that is required of me was battling me on all fronts. Somewhere in the midst of this battle the catapults had sent in firey balls of pain that damaged something within my fortified walls and slowly everything inside was being depleted and burned with searing amounts of pain. All of the negative thoughts were constant balls of fire obliterating every chance of hope and rescue. I thought back to the times I felt that my prayers were not being answered. I am not as haughty as to believe that God should give me what "I WANT" but any answer would suffice. Flash back upon flash back I saw all the moments I sat on my bed just holding a pillow wishing the noise would stop, hiding behind the bathroom door hoping no one saw me go in, crying myself to sleep and hoping my husband wouldn't hear my sniffles, and in that moment I knew what it all meant.
The wall (as she explained) was our prayers and living as righteously as possible, service, etc. The Hill is our foundation built upon Christ where he would give us the ability to see the adversary as he approached. Thus giving us the advantage to defeat him before he even got close. Communication was with our family and friends and even the savior. These are the things we begin to shut out once the depression gets too bad. Our food being sprititual and possibly even literal food are the things we feel we no longer need because the hurt is too deep and nothing has satiated it before. However If we forget to pray or be obedient then our walls begin to become weak and not as tall as they would have otherwise been. Thus allowing the adversary to get in and destroy us from the inside out. Without those fortifications we will not be able to withstand the forces at our emotional, mental, and spiritual door.
I knew now...it wasn't me!! I am not worthless, I have strength (somewhere), I am a good person (I hope) I am better that the enemy wants me to believe; and I am not staying in this hole. I realized that he had reached me. He reached me because I stopped praying; I stopped reading my scriptures, I stopped building and rebuilding that barrier between me and the enemy, and because of this here and there small cracks in my wall began to open allowing the enemy to tell me I was worthless; this fight was useless and that I would never amount to anything. Slowly but surely the cracks widened and catapults thrown until now my battle field looks as though an atomic bomb went off and there is a huge hole where once there was a city on a hill. If you are like me looking in on the destruction you are feeling that ever familiar feeling of this is useless. There is too much damage. I can never get back to the way I felt. But I have a question for you...
Whenever there is a war or a tragedy what do people do? They rebuild right?! They clear out the debris, get rid of what is broken and start fresh. They begin with clear ground and then build a sure foundation. This is my job now. Now that I know where I am within my mind this is what I have to do. It isn't going to be easy. I will have to actually get out of bed. I will have to sweep out the pain and the dragging belief that I don't matter even though it feels like I have 300lb weights on my ankles and arms; and I will have to begin again. The only way to defeat the enemy is to never give up. Begin building again. To pray when it feels useless, to believe even when you're not sure, to live as though the war is just about over so that hope doesn't feel so far away. Today I feel a little bit of light shining through the dark clouds. That ray of light may or may not be there in the morning but I know that if I clear away a little more of the debris then that light will get brighter and brighter.
We are children of God and he has said:
Matthew 5:14-16
14 Ye are the light of the world. A city that is set on an hill cannot be hid.
15 Neither do men light a candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick; and it giveth light unto all that are in the house.
16 Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.
One day I will get there. I have to...
AND SO DO YOU!!!!
anonomyous.
Depression hits home to so many individuals. If you are feeling this way please find someone to talk to. Depression is hard on you and your family. You battle a very real war each day and I am often amazed at the triumphs that you all reach. I am so grateful to this mother for her willingness to share how hard it is to pull and dig her way out of bed each day. You, dear mother, are a hero for still trying despite the heart ache and pain. Thank you again, and Good luck with ALL my love to you and your famliy in your ability to conquer.
*Please send me your edge of the miracle story to (edgeofthemiracle@outlook.com). I will preview it and then keep in close contact with you before featuring it in an upcoming blog. There are people out there that need your strength. They need the kind of peace only your story can bring. Even if you don't feel like it is worth a feature, just know that someone out there somewhere is needing to hear how you have overcome and the lessons that you have learned. You may save their life or quite possibly save many lives. We need your story.
