“Holding it Together”

I can’t remember the last time I wrote a blog. Blogging was always a form of therapy, a way to unleash my crowded mind of its unbearable thoughts. I was doing fairly well, fairly meaning still struggling but holding it together. But lately my “holding it together’ was falling apart. My depression and anxiety disorder was playing havoc on my life; I’ve been fighting to keep it all together, sort of speak. But fighting is leaving me exhausted, so tired of dealing with this beast every day of my life.

It’s been years now since my last breakdown. And no, I don’t mind saying , ‘breakdown’, or mental illness, depression, anxiety, suicide, etc. It’s no secret I have a mental illness; major depression and anxiety disorder. I suffer everyday, I fight everyday, some days more then others. The last few days I am really fighting, at times it seems I’m fighting a losing battle. Each morning I get out of bed I pray that today would be a ‘good day’, I cannot lose hope, for hope is what keeps me going. So this morning when my eyes opened to face another day, I knew I just didn’t feel ‘right’.  My body felt like it was carrying a heavy load, a heavy burden, a load that I just didn’t have the strength to carry anymore. Worn out, beaten down with life and it’s many struggles, hardships and uncertainties. In a world that was not an ideal environment for someone struggling with depression and anxiety. So much was happening, things that someone with good mental health would even struggle with. So here I am writing; writing to heal my broken mind but also writing to help someone else who is battling this awful illness, this stigmatized and misunderstood disorder.

I have questioned myself in those last few months of ever writing a blog again; I do so with great caution. Sometimes I wonder , what’s the point? Am I helping anyone? Or am I just giving others a reason to judge, discriminate and stigmatize me for my mental illness. It seems our world has gone a little crazy; the divisiveness, the outspokenness, harshness and hatefulness that have stemmed from the Covid pandemic has spread like wildfire. The push for vaccinations and now vaccination passports have given so many the “right” to fight. It’s gotten to a point where I’m hesitant to post on social media because it gives some the opportunity to lash out, to attack, to harshly respond and speak what they would never say to your face. The stress of this pandemic has made us all a little crazy, praying that one day we could put all this behind us and we can start living our new normal, whatever that may be.

Let’s get off the topic of Covid, I believe it has taken up too much of our time, our thinking and life in general. Don’t get me wrong, it is still our responsibility to do what is right to stop this virus and to just use our common sense. Now having said that, let’s move on. Yesterday was tough day to say the least. We all deal with our own pain, you may not be dealing with a mental illness but no doubt you have your own pain, not always physical. Life can bring so much pain, in so many ways. It was yesterday, I just had to get out of the house, so I went to Starbucks. It was my first time being there in years, as I sat there alone my mind travelled back to days when Lisa and I popped out for coffee whenever we felt like it, those days are long gone. The responsibility of caring for a disabled child certainly limits what we can do; even something as simple has going out for a coffee. Something that most just take for granted. We fail now to take for granted even those little things because it’s the ‘little’ things that mean the most.

Im not complaining, just saying it like it is. Life for caregivers of disabled loved ones is anything but easy. When Lauren was diagnosed with spastic quadriplegia cerebral palsy, our lives were changed forever, the bad and the good. Two of such caregivers that have taught me so much about love, selflessness, acceptance, caring and patience were my two Aunts;  Aunt Celia Vincent and Aunt Lily Williams. They were angels on earth and if I could learn from them the true meaning of giving; they devoted their lives to caring for their disabled loved ones. They could have become so bitter but they chose to live life and love life in spite of their circumstances. There’s a very special place in Heaven for my two Aunts who gave so freely of themselves and lived a life of Christ-likeness. May I live up to their example of what a true Christian should be, what a true human being should be. The hardships in their lives did not break them but only made them stronger.

So today I’m fighting to hold it together, today I’m not feeling all that strong, afraid that if I let my guard down for just one second, I would fall apart. The pieces of my brokenness would be forever shattered and nothing could put me back together again. And that is what depression and anxiety can do, it can destroy your very soul, your very being and leave you without a will to live. That my friend is the danger of this illness, for you see, no other illness known to man can steal your will to live. It is this instinct within us that gives us the will to live, gives us the strength to fight for our lives. But when this will to live is taken from us, stolen by this evil called depression; then we are left powerless, empty, alone and hopeless. So in my weakness, I will still fight, I will not lose hope, I will live in spite of my illness. And for those out there who have experienced or are experiencing what I’m talking about, from the words of Dr. Fitzgerald (NL’s Chief Medical Officer), “Hold Fast” we will endure and never give up! We can “Hold it Together”, even when it feels we are falling apart!