My Mental Health: When the Hard Days Come, Keep Moving Forward

I like to think that as a whole we’ve adjusted well after making it home with Arden. Our life has changed drastically, and a lot of aspects are very different than what we are accustomed to. I can’t just drive to the grocery store when I feel like it. I can’t just run outside to do tasks or go for a quick walk. But I’ve challenged myself to see the best in every day. Our normal may have changed a lot, but there is so much joy to be had. I’m practiced at always highlighting and focusing on the lighter side. But I still have my hard days too. 

After Arden was born, I tried therapy. I scheduled appointments with a lovely therapist who specializes in postpartum, and for a while, I paid her to be able to spill my story. I told her the daily challenges that our family faced, and it felt good to purge that energy on occasion. After a while, I realized that it wasn’t for me, because all I needed was catharsis. I needed a place to let it out and let it go, and I didn’t need to pay someone for that experience. 

For so long, I had given up journaling. I was still writing of course, but my notebooks were filled with Arden’s day to day medical information, and not often my thoughts or feelings about it all. When I began writing again, I quickly realized that it was a healing process that I required. There are so many parts of our story that I am not ready to tell, but I’ll get there one day. Piece by piece, I know that letting it out will set me free. Of course, I don’t want to lose the memories, because they are after all, the first memories I have with our precious boy. They’re full of many downs and some major ups that create our story. However, for all three of us, I want to release the trauma that came along with a lot of the things we experienced, in order to focus on all the good. It’s important that I work through all of my feelings, and take care of my own mental and emotional health so that I can give my best to our family. 

Although I’ve felt positive about moving forward since we’ve been home, I still have hard days. And sometimes I don’t see them coming. Two weeks ago I had one of those days.

The week was phenomenal for Arden. Despite the fact that he’s still teething (he has 7 so far!), he has been so happy and expressive lately. I swear his smile gets bigger every day. On my hard day, he was just as happy, just as loving, just as ready to play. However, that afternoon, my mind was in a fog. I felt like my body had been paralyzed into a state of weariness and weight. The whole world and all of my thoughts felt heavy, and I just could not stop crying. Arden smiled up at me, and I cried even harder. Because at that moment, I also felt guilt for feeling sad when our precious little boy was there to show me joy. Arden refused to nap, and although I so desperately wanted him to go down for a sleep, it’s like he knew I needed him awake to keep me moving forward. 

Finally, I called Brodi, and he said to me, “Rayel, when is the last time that you took your meds?” And then it hit me. I hadn’t taken my antidepressants in more than a week. Without meaning to, I had begun to feel great, and I had just…stopped taking them. I had a hard time admitting that to my doctor when we talked on the phone the next day, because it seemed so ridiculous. So easy to just stay on track. But I guess that’s the thing about mental health. Sometimes your brain plays tricks on you, and my brain had tricked me into thinking that I was fine without that extra help. And I do need that extra help. 

If you were to witness my routines, you’d see that I have very strategic ways of going about my mornings, my evenings…any down time really, in a way that supports my mental health. I do a lot of activities that promote relaxation in an attempt to control my thoughts, and bring joy to my spirit. I take bubble baths, I read, I journal, I listen to music, I meditate, I put on the diffusers of essential oils. I practice daily gratitude and I organize my house in a way that brings me peace and limits my stress. Self care, self love, blah, blah. But the truth is, I have dealt with depression and anxiety for as long as I can remember. And I’m wise enough to know that it’s not something that I can control with a cup of chamomile tea. 

I used to be embarrassed or nervous to admit that I need medication to support my mental health, but I’m not anymore. There are days we all get blue, or melancholy, for a period. Ups and downs are a natural part of life. I feel those ebbs and flows on a regular basis as well. But when the downs feel soul crushing, like I’m walking in a haze, or I’m heavy and drowning, that’s when I know it’s something more. Something that is not within my scope of control. 

On that night two weeks ago, I got into a bubble bath, sat there for a few minutes, and seriously considered getting out and laying in my bed without having even touched a bar of soap. I forced myself to wash my hair, and when I got out, I wrapped my head in a towel and fell asleep on the couch while Brodi did Arden’s night care. When I woke up around 11PM, I went straight to our bed, and slept until morning. When I awoke, I still felt heavy, and tired. It took the better part of Friday for that feeling to wear off. 

I used to feel so out of control during periods like that, and to some extent, I still do. But now I know that it will pass. I will regain my energy and my positivity and we will carry on. Especially in this past year, I have learned that there’s no true way to go but forward. Burying my emotions or pretending that I don’t have these down periods doesn’t serve my health. The old cliche, “this too shall pass,” really does apply. And I’ve learned that it’s okay to ask for help. That day, I asked Brodi to do Arden’s night care so that I could rest. I asked him to schedule a phone call with my doctor so that I would be accountable and take the steps to get back on track. I asked for the time and space that my body and mind needed in order to feel good again. And I’m very lucky to have an incredibly supportive partner. 

Since that hard day, I’ve returned to baseline, I’m feeling my spirit perk up again, and I’m once again filled with hope and happiness. Days like that aren’t something I wish for, but I also don’t wish for them not to come. I truly believe that the polarity of hard times versus hopeful and happy times creates a sense of gratitude for me. I try not to take the wonderful days for granted, because every once in a while, a hard one is going to pop up. And when it does, I’ll slow down and take care of me, so that I can take care of our family. 

XO, Rayel