{"id":775,"date":"2009-11-12T11:03:00","date_gmt":"2009-11-12T16:03:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/?p=775"},"modified":"2009-11-12T11:03:00","modified_gmt":"2009-11-12T16:03:00","slug":"help","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/?p=775","title":{"rendered":"Help!"},"content":{"rendered":"

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I have a good life. For many that peek into my life, they see a good life.<\/p>\n

Great hubby, wonderful kids and an overall happy home.<\/div>\n
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Sometimes having a happy home is work. I didn’t grow up in a “happy home” so I have no map of how to have that. It comes from trial and error. But most of all, it comes from love.<\/div>\n
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I got a letter from a friend that is struggling. As I read her letter, I suddenly found myself being able to relate too well. A pit of darkness.<\/div>\n
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This is something that I have struggled with for many years. I just didn’t put it all together. First, it was after baby 4. I had a rough time. I didn’t tell anyone. I just cried in my corner. Then put on my happy face and went about my day. Until, I needed my corner again.<\/div>\n
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With each baby, my darkness after them grew. I just didn’t realize it. One morning I snapped… there was laundry, beds unmade and an over all mess. Lined at the door was my family, all ready to head off to school and leave me with the mess. I snapped. I screamed and yelled.<\/div>\n
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They went to school. I am not sure what Sanj said to them…but along the lines that mommy wasn’t feeling well.<\/div>\n
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One of the boys teacher approached me at church. “Are you feeling better? Tyler asked for prayer for his mom. He said you weren’t feeling well.”<\/div>\n
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I felt so bad.<\/div>\n
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Over the years, I have really struggled with finding happiness inside. There so many obstacles.<\/div>\n
Most of them had to do with my family. My mom and dad and brother. When I was dragged back to that world… it was so hard. Yet I allowed myself to be pulled back. They are my family.<\/div>\n
I love them.<\/div>\n
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After my father’s illness and reappearance from death… I was lost. Everything was dark. Everything was hard. Too hard. I remember so many times thinking how easy it would be to just end all the pain and darkness. I just couldn’t see light. Not even in my babes. That scared me.<\/div>\n
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It was so hard to go to my doctor. It was so hard to physically lift that phone and call. It was so hard to say, “help.” <\/div>\n
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Depression is something that many people deal with everyday. I never thought it was depression because overall I am a happy person. I like to have fun. I like to play. I love life.<\/div>\n
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I had a warped sense of what a depressed person was. I had a picture of the 1950s definition.<\/div>\n
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A depressed person or a person suffering from depression was me.<\/div>\n
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It’s genetic. There is a strong history of depression in the blood lines. We just didn’t talk about it.<\/div>\n
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You so often hear me talk about my happy pill. It keeps me level. It helps me be me… the me you love, know and see.<\/div>\n
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I am OK with that. I am OK with being a person that lives with depression. It is just a disorder like diabetes. I need meds to keep me being me. <\/div>\n
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So… why am I writing this? Because someone needs to hear it. Who? God will tug on that person’s heart. I just know this is what I am suppose to share.<\/div>\n
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I have a happy life. I have a good life. I have help. My little white pill keeps me level to help me be me.<\/div>\n
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Thank you, God, for my little white pill. Thank you for help that is there. <\/div>\n
Ask for help… if you need it. It is so worth it.<\/div>\n
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<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I have a good life. For many that peek into my life, they see a good life. Great hubby, wonderful kids and an overall happy home. Sometimes having a happy home is work. I didn’t grow up in a “happy … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/775"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=775"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/775\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=775"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=775"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=775"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}