For a little less than 2 years I have been suffering from clinical depression.
I would say it was mild to moderate until Fall 2010 - then it went to what I would call moderate to severe. I was dealing with suicidal thoughts pretty much daily.
I quit my job in January because I felt that I could not handle the job, the children, the home, etc. In February we all came home - I began homeschooling my son at that time (another post on that decision later) and we were home all day, every day together.
In March we bought a house across the county and decided to start moving our things from our rental slowly to avoid the stress of one.big.move.
February to May were my darkest, darkest days. I am writing this on this blog because I feel that it's a safe place to document this time in my life since barely anyone reads this thing, and because I want to remember these moments. I want my kids to know that there was a reason why these past few months were so. . . off.
In May, I finally owned up to my sadness, and to the fact that I could not wrestle this bull down on my own. I needed help. I was in counseling for a few months in early 2010, so I knew that would be one thing I would look for - preferably a Christian counselor this time. I also knew I was ready to go on medication again that was more designed for depression (I was on anxiety medication, but didn't feel anxious much anymore).
I found a smart, caring doctor who listened and talked with me for about 45 minutes during my appointment. She was great! She put me on a new depression medication, encouraged me to follow my plan to get counseled, and asked me to come back in a month so we could talk about the other issue I am trying to get hold of (my health).
The medication helped immensely. I also took up crocheting (weird), counseling is going well, and just generally slowing down and allowing myself space to breathe without guilt or a to-do list has helped.
I am telling you, though, that swimming is my best weapon against depression. Granted, I am not sure I'd have the get-up-and-go to get to the pool without the meds at this point, however once I am there and swimming my head clears and I feel so alive.
Depression makes you feel like a corpse at times. . . like you are truly dead weight on the world. Swimming makes you feel the opposite - all the muscles working together to propel the body forward. . . the rhythmic breathing. . . the quiet thoughts.
For I guess about six weeks I have been swimming fairly regularly. This week I have kicked it up a notch and swam three sessions at around 45 minutes each (approx. 1 mile each time - I swim slow). I swim freestyle and have been practicing the total immersion method - very efficient and I swear it makes me feel like I could swim forever.
I guess this is how some people feel about running. I never have. I sweat an unusual amount and running is about dripping sweat that causes burning eyes and ear pods that slide out of my ears constantly. Ew. I do enjoy getting out and walk/running intervals, but I don't see myself ever being a serious runner.
A swimmer, however, I am. I am thankful for the roots I have in the sport that grew when I swam swim team at our local pool. There are times when I am skeptical I have even worked out after a long swim. I feel so relaxed and refreshed. I am always pleased, though, by my heart rate monitor's calories burned display.
It feels so good to have myself slowly emerging from this cloud. I enjoy things again. I am living purposefully and intentionally again, and that is such a joy. Still one foot in front of the other, one day at a time, but I am worlds away from where I was a few months ago. Praise be to God!
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