It's Monday, March 30th and we have awoken before noon for the first time in about 2wks. Our first week off, I tried the first few days to make the children stick to a loose schedule of waking up at the same time, eating at the same time, reading and showers before bed and lights out. It lasted the first few days, but by day three I had slept in. I was drained from all the unknowns. I needed the sleep, the outdoors, my friends, my real schedule. It took me three more days to realize, I needed to process and relax, because I was leading myself into a depressive state. My husband kept telling me that I should stay of FB because he knows it just feeds my anxiety. The conspiracy theory's broke me that first week. The thought of all the evil that was behind a smoke screen of a virus. The fear that this virus is real and might kill off our entire population. The fear of a lot of things broke me. I was standing in the kitchen. I had read yet another negative thing on FB. I looked at my husband and said "I'm not okay." My eyes welled up, he hugged me and I cried. Quiet sobs, because our children are like little FBI agents, they HEAR and SEE everything. I didn't want to frighten them. They are some of the most resilient kids I know. Almost anything life has thrown at them, they both can take a deep breath and head in full force. Unless they see me cry. Which is funny, because I cry A LOT. I cry when they get an award. I cry when they sing at school. I cry at Parent Teacher Conferences. I cry watching TV (American Housewife, you get me). But when I cry and their dad just holds me, they know something hard is happening. They know I'm in a depression. They don't know what depression is per say, which I should probably have that talk, but they know that I'm not okay. They know the signs, without realizing they know the signs. Last week's explosive misophonia was one of my biggest signs.
I could continue down this rabbit hole of how anxiety leads to depression, but this isn't that blog post. This post is about how a simple hug, turned me around.
What started out as just simply trying to keep up with the most recent news, lead to anxiety. What fed the anxiety, led to depression. Fortunately for myself, I have learned how to, sometimes successfully, self diagnose. Sometimes it takes a few weeks, and sometimes, like last week, I noticed what was happening in a few days. I stopped, looked at my husband and told him I wasn't okay. He took me in his arms and just held me. That's it. That was all I needed. Instead of staying in my head, I put it out there in words for someone else to hear. I put it out there to the person I knew would just hold me. Granted we usually have the "you know what you need to do" talk later, but it's those few seconds in that hug that set things back in the opposite direction. He's my reset button, for sure. After 20 years, he's reset me I can't tell you how many times. It's definitely gotten easier to see the signs over the years, but it hasn't been without our rough times. And it's definitely been easier to just tell him, instead of using my coping mechanisms to show him.
I wont say that I was/am 100%. The anxiety and depression are always there. They come in waves, throughout the day/s. However, knowing that I was going down the dark spiral has made me more aware of my emotions this last week. It's one day at a time. I, myself, have to keep my eye on it. No one can really pull me out, they can just help. I have to put in the work to bring myself out. Writing my thoughts down, dancing with my husband on the patio, watching movies with my kiddos, going for family walks, drinking more water and getting more sun are those healthy coping skills I've learned and have used these past few days. Seeing all those peoples faces on Friday, was also some much needed food for my soul.
Today, was the first day we woke up before noon. Today I went for my regular morning walk with Delilah. Today, is looking to be a good day. If I need to reset, I can.... and so can you.
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