On being a mother and other things

My mom and I ca. 1985

I'm intrigued about whether my mom shaped me to be a successful, forgiving individual and whether I became more depressed, resentful, and bitter after I stopped having constant contact with her.
See, I was always with her when I was a little girl, she protected me, and nurtured me and only as an adult have I come to understand how much hurt and chaos and pain she had in her life with my father, but as far as I'm concerned, even as I grew up and became a young adult I was always her child and she has never ever abandoned me.
She says I talked at about 9 months, I can believe that; she has always told me so many stories of when I was a baby or a toddler, of things I can't remember and they are so sweet. I can hear myself talk to my baby daughter like my mom probably talked to me. But I'm probably not as good as my mom was, and this saddens me.  I am afraid that although I've developed a strong bond with my baby daughter, it is probably tainted (I was reading Attachment and Adult Relationships: How the Attachment Bond Shapes Adult Relationships) because I've been depressed, impatient, tired, frustrated, and honestly quite resentful and bitter because of our old house and monetary problems.
I don't think my mom suffered from depression until I was maybe a little older, and if she has had bouts with it, they have totally been circumstantial and temporay. My mom is an optimist, a joy to all her friends and her grandchildren have enjoyed her (until they turn into teenagers and forget about her) because she is so loving and funny to them.
I miss her so much. She's in central Mexico, about 1200 miles away or two flights away, or a three day drive away. And one of the hardest things for me about now raising little P is not having my mom close by, so they can enjoy each other and I can cherish my mom's company.
Last year she came to be with me a few weeks before my baby was born and stayed a few months after and I can't remember having such an amazing time with her before then. We would go for walks every evening with my huge belly and slow pace and she would help me in the vegetable garden, then after baby was born we would take her with us for our walks when she wasn't napping, but every time I strolled along with my mom, I swear I almost peed my pants  because she would tell me the funniest things. This summer I have had some really hard days, I stopped taking the zoloft in late May, after I found out we're expecting our second child. But even while I was taking the medication, when I take baby in her stroller on "grandma's walking route" a bittersweet stream of feelings overcomes my heart and I wish she were there with me.

I just wish I will be as good a mom as she is, she does have some flaws, can be dictatorial and critical and is probably a bit helicopterish, at least she was, when I was growing up, but I guess I didn't turn to be a criminal or a worse off woman because of her. My father's alcoholism and emotional abuse has probably more to do with my ailments, but that's for another post. My mom tried to shelter me, but as we all know the codependent spouse can only shelter so much. Her path has been so interesting, I could talk for hours about her life, because she talked for hours about it with me. It would annoy the crap out of me at the time, but I know better now.

I see my husband and I know his parents were so different than mine, his birth order is different than mine, his sociocultural environment when growing up way different than mine, and you can see he's a very resiliant individual but I'm afraid that the cornerstone of his insecurities, emotional disconnect, feeling stuffing, and inability to pursue real success and make of himself someone greater than he ever imagined lies on the attachment, or lack of, with his mother.
All he has ever achieved he has achieved on his own, without anyone on his cheering squad, only after he's done something has he recieved some congratulatory comment, if any.  (I'm by no means saying his parents are bad people, just saying the ambition and willingness to help their children believe the sky's the limit wasn't present when my husband was a young man). This takes a toll on our marriage and our financial situation.
I was raised (by an enthusiastic mom) to go and get, to never feel ashamed of being smart (go figure!), to go to the beat of my own drum, and if someone had a problem with it, to know someone had my back. I'm becoming a worm, digging deeper in the dirt to not even suggest that I can conquer the world, that we can bring more money home if he chooses to be the stay at home parent or redirect his goals and take a more realistic approach to the fact that his speech may be the reason as to why he can't and probably will not advance in the financial field, that we could be so much better off if we both had the guts to "go and get", to "stand up and do" and stop resting in our laurels and pretend that where we're at is good enough, when it isn't.
I started off in this relationship being very dominant, wrong approach of course, because, this far into it, it was easier to join him than to change him, our finances are a mess and our lifestyle, plain mediocre; and this, of course makes the depression worse when it lurks around the corner. Then I have no validity in his eyes, "because I'm ill". It's a vicious cycle. Then I want to go to my mom and hide in her arms...or at least go for a walk with her on a summer evening...

To have major depressive disorder is not the same as "feeling blue"...

Originally a Note from my FB profile...will translate on later time, since this is a really good letter to my acquaintances about what living with depression has been for me, especially this week.

Tener depresion aguda no es "andar en la depre"...

...No se quita solo "siendo positivo" aunque eso ciertamente ayuda.Tener depresion aguda tampoco quiere decir que uno deja de tener fe en Dios y en su misericordia, ni que "que pecado tan grande debo haber cometido que mira que me ha mandado Dios", no quiere decir que uno nunca jamas se rie o es capaz de sonreir, o de sentir amor por sus hijos.  Tal como una persona que no sufre de depresion aguda cronica no se esta riendo todo el santo dia, o se enoja o se pone triste, lo que pasa cuando la depresion es cronica es que la sensacion de estancamiento perdura y es mas dificl hacer tareas que los otros no consideran debilitantes.
Cuando uno tiene depresion cronica, la fatiga viene de tratar de vivir "con mas ganas" la vida, nuestro cuerpo no cuenta con los quimicos necesarios como la dopamina y la serotnina (tal como  un diabetico con un desequilibrio de insulina) que ayudan a lidiar con las cosas mas sencillas; y, derrumbando cualquier idea que los demas puedan tener de que los deprimidos solo somos flojos, es lo contrario: uno debe esforzarse el doble -si se tiene la nocion de lo que le pasa, como en mi caso, despues de 7 anios en tratamiento psiquiatrico, tres hospitalizaciones y 17 anios de terapia psicologica, actividad fisica, cambios en la dieta para aumentar niveles de serotonina, tecnicas de relajacion y visualizacion- para tratar de pasar el dia y funcionar en el empleo, en la casa y tratar de dar entusiasmo a los hijos, en otras palabras, uno gasta mucha energia tratando de efectivamente no dejar que la depresion reine. Es injusto que los demas nos "den aliento" dando a entender que no le echamos suficientes ganas a la vida, queridos mios: no tienen idea de cuantas mas ganas uno debe echarle de amancer a anocher, dia tras dia.
Uno tiene dias mejores que otros. Ayer fue un dia muy cansado, donde mi animo solo respondia llorando y la fatiga viene al tratar de evitar ese animo, y no dejar que mi nenita vea a su mami asi de malita. Y es que, cuando uno toma medicamento, los niveles de los quimicos en el cerebro medio se nivelan y le ayudan a uno a poder dar mas batalla. Yo tengo tres semanas de no tomar mi medicamento, por razones medicas y muy importantes para mi esposo y yo, de modo que soy completamente responsable de ser consciente de mis estados de animo y parte de esto es ser honesta y poder comunicar cuando tengo dias pesados, esto efectivamente ayuda al enfermo.
Es dificil explicar la depresion como enfermedad real, sobre todo cuando uno vive en dualidad cultural y de perspectiva. A mi esposo se lo tuvo que apenas explicar mejor el psiquiatra hace algunos meses, y aun cuando a mis padres les trate de explicar como actua esta enfermedad, bueno, uno fue victima de ella y la otra aun creo que no le queda claro que sucede en mi vida con este padecimiento. Tengo entendido que es un hecho que muchos miembros de mi familia materna y paterna padecen de algun grado de trastorno de estado de animo, pero a menos que tengan mas contacto con la perspectiva americana, los demas se "diagnostican" o tachan unos a otros de locos enfermos!
Y es que, cuando uno ha vivido con depresion la mayor parte de su vida en Mexico aun no hay un entendimiento de lo que sucede en el cerebro y en la vida de la persona. Y no digo que en USA sea distinto, pero ultimadamente aqui es donde finalmente le dieron al clavo y desde hace 7 anios estoy tratando de aceptar mi condicion y de aprender a vivir con este padecimiento. En Mexico simplemente todo mundo me criticaba o decia que "era sangrona o muy voluble". de ahi el iniciar terapia, "para dejar de ser grosera con los demas"...
En fin, lo que quiero dejar claro es que esto no es cuestion de opinion, es una situacion real y latente en la vida del enfermo, como el cancer o la diabetes, aun no se encuentra una cura pero se puede lograr "pausar los sintomas" con varias alternativas, y aun asi todos los que a diario luchamos con enfermedades de la mente vivimos con la esperanza de que se lograra encontrar una cura.

Prayer Against Depression

St. Ignatius of Loyola's Prayer Against Depression
O Christ Jesus
When all is darkness
And we feel our weakness and helplessness,
Give us the sense of Your Presence,
Your Love and Your Strength.
Help us to have perfect trust
In Your protecting love
And strengthening power,
So that nothing may frighten or worry us,
For, living close to You,
We shall see Your Hand,
Your Purpose, Your Will through all things.

By St. Ignatius of Loyola
Read more: http://www.ewtn.com/Devotionals/prayers/StIgnatiusPrayerAgainstDepression.htm#ixzz1FTSraYMh

"you can cure yourself from depression"

Just walked in from a house party where I heard, one more time the "you can cure yourself from depression" theory. The one where the speaker is so fucking convinced that, from personal experience, it only takes a lot of personal will and strength to rid yourself from the evil possession that results in depressive mood.
Right. Tell that to the woman who three years to this date found her partner, who struggled with bipolar and depression, dead after committing suicide. To his son who was the first one to come see her and the dead man and who still will not admit himself that depression is a bitch, a real disease that takes lives, who says that suicide victims are just weak freaks. Sad. Tell that to me, who have lived with depression since childhood, and whose father was that man her mother found three years ago in their family home, and for whom his loss is harder to deal with the more the years that go by and it certainly made even less sense when I had a child myself.
It's an issue (mental illness, being a REAL illness, like diabetes or cancer) very dear and close to my heart, because I myself have to still get to the acceptance stage, the one where I feel OK knowing that I live with this (depression, anger, anxiety, mood swings) and that it is not just a situational "little depressive stage", but a biological and perhaps genetic origin illness that hinders my ability to enjoy life like "normal" people may. Please don't get me wrong, it is by no means cool  to be diagnosed with mental illness, unlike many young people seem to think now, if we think of depression as a real and present disease that affects the brain's function and by consequence the body, maybe it won't be so fucking glamorous and/or people won't minimize it as when they say "we all have issues". We may all have issues, but we have not all been seriously and medically diagnosed and receive proper treatment and are not committed to the betterment of our wellbeing and our health. We would all be better people if we did, though.

So, hear me when I scream: Screw you, high and mighty self cured depressed people, and please keep your opinions about mental illness not being an illness to yourself. Yes, it is all in our heads, because the brain is the organ that is ill...for real. Educate yourself, ask us questions, but please, don't diagnose us and certainly don't treat us if you are not living on our side of the fence, because, even for those who do live with us on our side of the fence this is a daily struggle, please mind us all. I sometimes wonder if I have the energy and should actually start a Hispanic chapter through the NAMI in our city, because we need to reach out and promote make mental illness education present among the Latino community.


Just for today, let us honor that man's life and let us remember his good deeds, and the good times we did have together. May he rest in peace and may the Lord have mercy on him and us. I love and miss you, papa, even when it was so difficult to love and miss you when you were around.

Last few weeks

Christmas was good. I only had a few mood swings but nothing drastic or bad enough to make me get into trouble with J or other relatives. At least, that's my impression!
New Year's was ok, I managed to stay up and receive the New Year and toast with J. Romantic-wise, it's getting a bit better, too, so I guess he's probably grateful that part  of me is "coming back" a little at a time, at least. I actually don't feel like abhorring him anymore so I'm grateful that part of me is going away since I did marry the guy :-)

Little P is doing so good she's the cutest little thing in the whole world and I love her with all my being. I get so tired as the night sets in every day though, I pray that God has us ion his good list and sends us the grace so that I can manage to work out soon. It's awkward because she nurses and I feel like a cow, I can get over the cow thing but I'd never nursed a baby before and although it's been going well and I'm thankful for this I resent "being a slave to the pump or the baby" and how I at least should be happy that I can sleep through the night without P wanting to eat anymore. I know I can leave her with a sitter while I work out, but I'd have to pay the sitter, pay the gym fee, or pay the gym fee somewhere where babysitting is also available which is so expensive. Where there's a will there's a way, now I need to find the funds to get this going. I know deep inside this will benefit everyone, right?

At least for now I'm eating a little better, a little more on the side of how mindful I was when I was single and when I was so in tune with what my body wanted instead of what my newborn needs from me...

so I'm REALLY depressed....

The past few days have been physically strenous for me. Although we live in a rather small house, our baby P has only wanted to be held and she's a rather heavy little person at only 20 weeks weighing a little over 18 lbs already, anyway, my whole body aches and I just don't seem to have plenty of time for all I would like to get done and after my arms and back burn from carrying baby in sling and without sling I end up with about half of the things I want to do done.
SO, I thought I'd post since today is a particularly tough day. My father would have turned 64 today. He passed away almost three years ago. This morning's 6:45am mass was said for him, but I wasn't able to attend because I work from 6 to 10 am.  I also have been struggling at work, I am totally unproductive lately and it's catching up on me. My boss asked me to stop monkeying around and get stuff published already.
And then a couple of weeks ago, after almost 5 years seeing me, C, my therapist  suggested I should do the pshyc tests (mmpi-2 and mcmi-iii). Drum roll please for the results...I am NOT bipolar (my dad was so she hypothezised I could be); I am, however, a majorly  depressed gal -scores were both over 90 for this one- nothing new there I guess, since I've been in therapy for 16 years and was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder back in '05... Actually, as she read my results, it was as if someone had looked into my soul and put everything I have inside into words. It was amazing  to hear from someone else exactly what I live with, it was an out of body experience almost. The results also touched on the anger, the loneliness, the isolation, the perfectionism and self sabotage, the alcoholism, the guilt, and how no matter how I try I can't seem to see life as other healthy individuals might. I heard her read about how interpersonal relationships are strained because of my erratic nature, how I feel like people mistreat and ignore me and how that hurts me so much deep inside because I don't like to be rejected, how very few friends I have and how other perceive me as a difficult person and may feel it's hard to get to know me.
I really don't know where I stand after these results, I guess it's good that C knows about all what afflicts and haunts me and hopefully the new resident psychiatrist I'll visit with will pinpoint something better as far as meds go. I am still breast feeding little P and I find it hard to wean her just yet so I will definitely discuss this with him.
Oh I wish I could go into a hole and come out on a sunny perfect day with a healthy working brain, no debt, and 35lbs lighter. Who can relate?

Clutter

I have so much clutter in my thoughts and I drag myself through life these days. My chest pounds from the anxiety and I hurt in silence.
I ponder upon the possibility of really bearing it all and reveal the raw and fragile being that I have been behind the passive-agressive, angry, drunk, born again Catholic, highly capable and over achieving facade you all have witnessed.

I wish I could. Truth has only been revealed to those in that room two years ago. It is on those notebook pages the counselor kept in the file. And it's buried in my heart pounding to come out. What good will it do if it did break through the fear? What a sad existence I feel, the epitome of procrastination, cynicism, and sloth. A fake.The only real thing, some days is the faith but when you feel like you can't keep the hope, faith is lacking too.

Fake it til you make it, right?

Gay rights groups exploiting recent suicides to advance agenda

What's your take? I just read:
Daffey Thoughts: Gay Rights groups exploiting recent suicides to ad... and it makes me ponder on how other teen segments are/have always been bullied such as religious kids, overweight kids, bicultural kids, etc.; having been an overweight and depressed kid myself and having considered-attempted suicide at a young age, in part due also to bullying in high-shool this issue spkies my concern.