It's taken me a long, long time to decide whether or not I wanted to actually write this post. It's been a really long time since we've updated our blog and I wasn't sure this is how I wanted to get back into "the blogging world". However, there are a couple things that have had a huge impact on my life, and I feel that it's important that I record not just what happened, but how it's changed me. What I've learned.
This little guy has stolen my heart
After Dawson was born I entered a world I had never known. Baby #4 had arrived and I wanted so badly to feel like the luckiest girl in the world with the greatest family on earth. Instead, I resented them. All of them. From my husband right down to my newborn son. Dawson was a hard baby. He cried ALL the time. I was lucky to get a total of 3 hours of sleep in one night. So, understandably, I was tired. Yet, I knew that what I was experiencing was so much more than sleep deprivation. I didn't want to do things with my children. I didn't want to get out of the house, even to go grocery shopping by myself. Isn't that what many moms look forward to? I didn't want to go to Relief Society activities, presidency meetings, or even girls' nights out with friends. Sometimes I didn't even want to get out of bed. I tried getting up each day with a desire to do things for my family. To focus on others rather than myself. Yet, still, I found myself in a sort of darkness I have never known. After a while I did realize that this was not just a problem for me, but a problem for my whole family. I felt like this darkness was not just setting over me, but that I was allowing it to take over my home. And that hurt. A lot. My husband means the world to me, and it made me ache knowing that I was allowing this wall to come between us. My children are my greatest blessings, and all I was doing was bossing them around, yelling at them, and asking them to find anything to do but spend time with me.
That's when it dawned on me. So, this is what they call post-partum depression. Yet, even after this realization I had such a hard time coming to grips with it. Admitting it. Mentioning it to Gary. But why? Why was it so hard to admit that I needed help?
I have since come up with a couple reasons.
1) this was baby #4 and I had never experienced post-partum depression, so why would it effect me now?
and
2) I am a faithful member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I do have faith in Jesus. So, doesn't that mean that the Atonement alone should be enough to get me out of the darkest abyss? I was still praying. Man, was I ever praying! So, surely I should be on top of the world in no time.....
RIGHT?
wrong.
This was something that needed a bit of time to help me heal.
And I am healing.
It's a process.
But here is what I've learned thus far:
1) It doesn't matter how many kids you have, depression is something that could happen. It effects many people we know. It isn't just privy to woman who have just given birth. It effects the lives of hundreds of millions of people. Around the world. Around the country. Around your neighborhood. In your own home.
and, more importantly,
2) the Atonement is enough, but is only effective not only when we understand it, but when we apply it. "Apply" is a verb. An action word. We have to DO something. And sometimes what we "do" must be more than just praying. Sometimes it means studying our scriptures. Sometimes it means talking about things with your spouse or a dear friend. Sometimes it means getting out of the house and going for a walk or to the grocery store. Sometimes it even means seeking professional help. Yes, even that is applying the Atonement. Our good Lord has placed professionals in our communities who have studied and understand what it truly means to be depressed. And if they can help us to come out of a cloud of darkness then maybe, just maybe, we can think clear enough to understand our own thoughts, our own choices, and even better understand our Savior Jesus Christ. And then....then....we can find a place where healing happens.
Personally, I have not sought out that professional counsel. So, now I'm a hypocrite. True. However, it has only been recently that I have realized how, it is often looked down upon. Again, because the atonement alone should be enough. Or so we think. Maybe this isn't doctrinally correct, but it has changed my perspective. On a LOT of things. Why? Because the Atonement is not only for the depressed. It is for each and every one of us. Because we are imperfect. Perfect people don't need a Savior. We do. And because of our imperfections it is up to each of us to apply the Atonement. And there are so many options in aiding that.
And when I started thinking more clearly about the choices I was making and changes I could make, I truly started enjoying this blessing:
Right around the time that I was feeling like I could take control over my life once again I got a phone call from my mom. And this is one of those phone calls that you will forever remember where you were and what you were doing when you heard the dreaded news.
It was June 13, 2013. I was in our play room, doing "big puzzles" with my kiddos. Yep, I was playing with my kids!
Then my mom told me that Theresa, my dear foster sister, had taken her own life the previous night. Now, I need to be clear. I say "foster" sister, but that was really just a title. She was family. She came to live with us when the two of us were in high school....and she could never get rid of us after that :)
Well, my mom asked that I contact my siblings and give them the news. This was something that was just so hard to comprehend. Things like this happen to other people, but they're not supposed to happen to our family. Yet, it did. And here we were. Confused. Shocked. Hurt. After calling a couple of my siblings I realized that it was Theresa's birthday. She would have been 33. Only 4 months older than me. How could this be true?! What heartache.
As soon as something so horrific happens, it tends to be the human nature in us to ask ourselves, "Why didn't I do more?" And I think that's what everyone in my family was saying. Why didn't I call her more? Why didn't I invite her into my home more often? Why didn't I leave random, thoughtful messages on her facebook page?
Why?
It didn't take long before I realized that we can not continue asking ourselves these questions.
No one knows. We can't answer that.
They are just things we did not do...and we can not go back and change that now.
And so, instead of spending all our time thinking about the things we wish we would have done, why not take the time to think about the things we did do.
I will be the first to admit that I did not have the best relationship with Theresa. When I say this, it doesn't mean we didn't like each other. We loved each other. And I know that we both knew it. But, let's be honest. She came to live with us when she and I were both teenagers. Young. Selfish. Naive. And both vying for ALL of our parents love and affection. However, I did have a relationship with her. And that means something. And that is what I need to remember. Focusing on what we didn't have only brings great sadness, sorrow, and regret. But focusing on what we did have brings nothing but happiness, joy, and hope.
And when I start to ask the "why" questions I quickly remind myself that our loving God has a plan. For each of us. And we are all on a journey. A journey that continues on into the next life. And it gives me hope to know that one day I will see where Theresa's journey has taken her. And that she can help me with my journey in this life.
There are still many unanswered questions. When someone takes their own life the questions are endless. Some even painful. You will never look at the situation and think, "Well, it was just their time to go.....The Lord must have really needed them on the other side of the veil." No, the thoughts you have are not so organized and happy. Instead, I have often felt confused and angry.
And here's something I've learned:
It's okay to have questions. It's okay to be confused. And it's even okay to be angry.
However, once we hand our lives over to the Lord (yet again!), the pain from it all is subdued and peace and hope find us once again.
I feel very much at peace, knowing that Theresa is in a good place. And not only that she is in a good place, but that she is in a better place!
Theresa dealt with depression. her. whole. life. She experienced situations I can't even imagine myself in. I found myself in a dark abyss for a short period of time. I can not, however, imagine knowing little else. Much of my peace comes from knowing that Theresa no longer has depression, pain, or mental anguish. And knowing that she can now think so much more clearly, without having this cloud of doubt and depression hovering over her.
Having experienced the post-partum depression, I can say that depression is not something that is "just in your head", or something that you can just "decide" to not have. You don't just "decide to not have cancer once you have found out it lives in you. Depression is no different. It is a disease. It can be debilitating. Even life threatening. And when it claims the life of someone you love, you can only pray all the more that our good and loving Heavenly Father will allow our society to find a cure.
And our God is good.
He gave us 17 years with our beautiful Theresa.
And He gave Theresa some very happy and loving years in there, too.
It wasn't all bad.
I know this because I saw her go from a very depressed, suicidal teenager when she came to live with us, to a lively, energetic woman who had a testimony of the Atonement and applied that in her life to find some amazing moments of peace.
Much credit is due to our parents.
They allowed her to see herself for who she could become. And for what the Lord could see in her. They helped her recognize and pursue her endless abilities and talents.
But most importantly,
because they loved her.
Another thing I have learned is that death is a hard subject for many people to talk about. Suicide is even harder. I get it. I do. I'm not always the best at being there for other people, or knowing what to say about tragic situations. I had many people who commented on facebook when I mentioned Theresa's passing. However, when I saw them at church, or in the neighborhood the next few days, almost no one said anything to me about it!
And that hurt.
Grief does not last for only a moment.
It is for a lifetime.
It made me realize that no matter how hard, or touchy the topic is, I will always talk to people who have lost someone they love. Even if all I say is simply, "I am SO sorry...you are in my thoughts and prayers." There were days that I felt so very alone. I didn't need people to watch my kids or bring me meals, I just kind of wanted people to, I don't know.....care. Luckily, I have an AMAZING family and we were able to talk to each other and share our thoughts and feelings. I also have a couple of very close friends that were there for me, just at the right time and in the right moments. Thank you!! I can't thank you enough! But it has given me a different perspective, and I now know what I will do for others in the future.
We learned a lot about Theresa through her death. Isn't that a funny thing? Or, better yet, a great and tender mercy of the Lord!! I actually feel closer to her now than ever before!! And each day I am reminded of her as I see the coffee table she made us. And the Navajo blanket she gave Kyri when she was born, which is on the dresser in the girls' room. I love that I have small, yet meaningful, reminders of her talent and her love.
I want to share just a few memories I have of Theresa. These are the ones I shared at her memorial service.
When Theresa came to live with us I was the only child still
living at home after the first few weeks.
But for the first few weeks two of my brothers were still in the house,
which meant that Theresa and I had to share a room. I had a water bed at the
time, which I had never had to share with anyone…until then. Awkward! I
remember noticing Theresa’s every move, and sometimes getting frustrated
because the wave from her movements would wake me up. Of course, at the time I never thought that
she might be just as frustrated with the situation. I mean, here she was in a strange home, with strange people, in a very strange
bed. Yeah, I was selfish like that. Looking back on it, I now find it quite
humorous that when one of us moved the other was practically tidal waved right
out of bed! I find it even more humorous that neither of us talked about this awkward
situation. Ever.
I also remember that my parents bought Theresa a pink pencil
bag for school right after she moved in.
Theresa would not use
it….because it was pink. Ha!!
One night Theresa, Tawn, and I decided to watch a movie together
at my parents’ house. What’s a movie
without treats, right? So, Tawn and I
found some ice cream, while Theresa chose to make some popcorn. Right after the movie got started (actually
it was probably even right before), Theresa, who was sitting between Tawn and
me, asked if we wanted some popcorn. We
told her no, that’s why we chose ice cream in the first place. Well, Theresa didn’t stop at that. She knew how to push our buttons…and got a
good kick out of it! Every couple
minutes she would turn to one of us and say, “Want some popcorn?” It was
kind of funny, but starting to get on our nerves at the same time. Then, Theresa turned to me, and I knew what
she was going to ask, so I prepared myself to answer, “NO!! I don’t want any
popcorn!” Instead, Theresa turned to me, held up her bowl and asked, “Want some
ice cream?!” We still responded “NO!!”
and then all laughed since she asked if we wanted what we were already
eating!! I realize that this story
probably sounds kind of lame to anyone who wasn’t there, but to Tawn, Theresa,
and myself this became a joke that we laughed about for years. Whenever we got together and were eating anything we would turn to each other and
ask, “Want some ice cream?”
Theresa always thought my hair was cool. I’m sure it’s because, as women, we always
want the hair that we don’t have, and my hair is completely opposite of
Theresa’s. Fine, thin, and straight. I
would sometimes come home to visit family with a new, less than conservative,
hairstyle. If my parents didn’t like my
hair they usually said nothing. One
time, however, my mom saw me and said, “Hi, Mauri. Your hair’s orange.” When, clearly, it was pink.
Theresa thought this was great! She did tell me, though, that she thought my
hair awesome. The next few times I saw
Theresa she would say, “Hi, Mauri. Your
hair’s orange!” And then just
laugh. Come to think of it, I’m not sure
she was making fun of my mom or me! J
My kids are all young and probably won’t remember Theresa as
they get older. However, one of my favorite memories that will be with me forever is the way Theresa loved my
kids and played with them. I don’t think
she ever came to see me when I was in
town, she came to see my kids. And I’m
SO glad she did!
I think of Theresa often. Every day. And I have no doubts
that when I see her again the first thing she will say to me will either be, “Hi
Mauri! Your hair’s orange!” Or, “Want some ice cream?!” And I can hear her
laughing about it now!
Love and miss you, Theres!!
