The Not So Great Depression

I've always tried to be the optimist of all situations. See the brighter side of things. But when my life started changing, I wasn't capable of that. I put myself in a shadow and I wanted that shadow to get darker and darker with me. I didn't want to be happy during the time lupus was out of control. That's why I was so depressed, I was no longer in control over my own body. It can literally choose to go haywire when it wants and there is literally nothing I can do but watch it happen until lupus has done the damage it does.

After my first onset flare, even through the meningitis in my brain, my body had did a pretty great job healing itself and getting more close back to normal than any of my doctors predicted. I was even still walking at that point although it was still difficult.  It seemed like the good was getting great, I was really getting back into the groove of life. That is until one day I realized something, Something I knew all too well. The signs of a flare...

My hair was beginning to fall out all over again, the rash coming back on my face. Why god? Why me? The anger, the confusion, the betrayal I felt from God, made me so angry! I began to blame God for everything I was going through. I was blaming my best friend at the time I really needed him most. I started realizing all the wrongs, the pain I was in, I had fallen into an even deeper depression I'd just came from. I started spiraling down, quicker , because I was so angry.

My back began having excruciating pain. My legs became more numb and I became more angry. I was doing so well. I didn't understand how I was back in this place. I soon went to the emergency room because this was the most numb my legs had ever been and this time the feeling wasn't returning, I panicked. And then I started realizing my life had really changed, if I hadn't realizded it yet, It'd really changed. 

One day I'd almost woke up feeling better, starting to come to reality with what was really going on with me that is until a doctor came into my room with a distressed look on her face. She walked over to my bed slowly, placing her hand on top of mines, "Ms. Williams, I'm sorry to tell you, you have transverse myelitis and you may never walk on your own again." At first I honestly wanted to tell her to shut the Hell up. Like literally get that hell filled news away from me but I was too consumed by depression at that point, I just added it to my list of woes and cried horrifically .

After I started the chemo process, I kind of started to feel better but I still couldn't walk so they sent me to a rehabilitation hospital. They taught me to live life as normally as possible even without walking. It was great until I got home. When I was home and my family still had to go to work and continue their daily routines, while I was home...alone. To make matters more difficult, during that period of time, my daughter Hannah went to go live with my grandmother in Alabama because no one would be home to care for her and I was still to weak. 

Not able to walk, still learning to get around in this new body. Its scary being alone when your depressed. Compliments sound like lies, kind gestures sound like threats. Depression manipulates your thoughts. It will have you thinking your worthless.

I felt worthless. I felt like I didn't deserve to be here. Sometimes I would sit in front of the mirror and pick myself apart, that's the worst possible thing I could've done. I would start to throw things, breaking things... I would even sometimes dig my fingernails as deeply as I could into my skin and scratch myself until I bled, until the physical pain took the mental pain away. Was I crazy? I can't lose myself to this. This wasn't me. But I realize I did THAT because I could never actually kill myself. But in that moment I just felt like I wanted to fight someone. I don't know if it was God, the devil, but me, I was the only person around. When I looked at the scars I created the next day I knew this had to stop. I had to stop blaming God because he was the very thing I needed the most.

I had to stop being a coward and face reality. My life had changed, I was a single mother with lupus who is now in a wheelchair. I'm alive and as long as I live I will TRY. I had come too far at that point from depression to fall back into it. I began to get back into my normal routines. Getting up at a decent time, shaving, putting on make up ,doing my hair; its true, you look good you feel good. I began to feel better, look better...

Don't get me wrong, I still have times when depression creeps up on me, but I have to realize which voice to listen to. The good or the bad? Its so easy to let that little dark voice feed you lies of negativity but you have to be strong enough to filter through those negative thoughts. Its so easy to think of the things you lose, I had to realize the things I'd gained. I had to learn to love Me through all circumstances, whether I'm in this wheelchair or not. As long as I live, I choose to TRY.