Christmas 2010 - A Christmas to Remember (I mean forget...)

(This post was started back in December of 2010 - anything I just added presently is in italics)

Picture this:

It was Christmas Eve. Our table was set with my pretty, red Christmas dishes, the majority of the food was on the table, and we were starting to gather at the table to begin our meal…

And then Mallary started puking…

And, that, my friends, was the final nail in my Christmas spirit’s coffin – the icing on my fruitcake!

And I do not like fruitcake.

Had we not had friends over, I would have retired to my bedroom and hibernated until at least 2011.

This Christmas season was… different? I barely listened to Christmas music, which I usually have to force myself not to listen to until after Thanksgiving. I don’t think I even watched one full Christmas special. What?!?!? (I know. That makes me sad just typing it.) We delivered no goodies (I started to make some many times…), sent no Christmas cards, and I wrapped the presents the week of Christmas (very odd for me, usually have them wrapped as soon as I buy them). I also knew I wouldn’t be getting anything off of my Christmas list, which included, but was not limited to: a new mattress for our bed, patio furniture, a larger patio to put the furniture on, a fence for our backyard, a new light for the bathroom, more kitchen cabinets built, a new computer, and I’ll just stop there…

When I finally accepted the fact that I wasn’t getting any of those things for Christmas (okay, so I knew that before I made the list…), I decided that all I really wanted for Christmas was a little peace. Some for me, some for you, some for anyone in the world that wanted it. I know, I know… Christmas lists are not for beauty pageant answers, but really, was world peace too much to ask for? Or, for everyone to have peace in their homes, or in their hearts? I know, it’s a big ticket item. I’m not sure if Santa could have even made that in his workshop…

I jest. But, really.

No.

Really.

It seems like lately I know of too many people struggling with tough issues, too many friends with hurting hearts, too much sadness going on all around me… Lately, just watching the evening news breaks my heart a little bit. I’m not sure when I became so sensitive… I know everyone has their own set of struggles; I have my own, and I know you have your own. I think there are a lot of people who would like a little peace.

I think there are different kids of peace…

I mean, sometimes, all I want is an hour or two of peace and quiet in my life. Time where I can just BE, and not do. Peace from not having to give time outs, or raise my voice… Peace where I can read something that touches my spirit, and enjoy that moment without it being interrupted by my child yelling for something at me… That kind of peace.

Then, there’s the kind of peace that settles in your heart and heals. A lot of hearts need that kind of peace too.

If there was some way Santa could have wrapped up a little peace, topped it with a bow, and slipped it in my stocking (and yours)…. that would have been the best stocking stuffer ever.

So, I narrowed down my Christmas list, and told Santa that all I wanted was Peace on earth.

And, if that wasn’t doable, I asked for a clean house.

So, that’s how I felt leading up to Christmas Eve. For me, it had been a Christmas season filled with issue after issue, topped off with so many of my friends hurting with their own issues, and it just wasn’t feeling Christmas-y enough to me. There were a few Christmas spirit highs like my Christmas Road Rally Party, and getting Christmas cards, gifts, and my friends candy cane fudge in the mail.

So, I had really wanted Christmas Eve to be perfect. I was looking forward to spending a whole day devoted to Christmas. I was cooking dinner, we were going to eat with friends, we were going to make sugar cookies and decorate them, we were going to watch a fun Christmas movie, and read the Christmas story, and hang stockings, and set cookies out for Santa, and then snuggle up on the couch with my husband in a dark living room with only the Christmas tree lights on, and watch a Christmas special…

Cue Mallary puking…

Our poor friends!!! We tried to somewhat carry on with the evening… At first, we didn’t know if Mallary was really sick, or if she made herself throw up by coughing and gagging herself – we soon figured out she was sick. Let’s just say John gave her three or four baths before our friends even left that night. It was really sad.

I tried to carry on with the evening, though inside I really just wanted to fall apart. Then, as I went to make the icing for the sugar cookies, my hand mixer broke! I was like, REALLY????? Could this night get any better??? Our friends left a little later, and then Trevan opened his pajamas, and Mallary had fallen asleep in our floor. I told Trevan to come down stairs and we would hang the stockings, and put some cookies out for Santa. Well, he loved his new pajamas so much, he climbed in his bed before I knew it and went to sleep before even coming downstairs!

I couldn’t even set out cookies for Santa with my kids???

That night kept getting better for me…

I was just so disappointed. As a parent you look forward to holidays with your kids, like to see them so happy on those events makes up for the bad stuff on other days. You really want it to be so magical for them.

And in case you didn’t know, barfing does not equal magical.

Needless to say, Christmas Eve didn’t turn out at all as I had envisioned it… and to top it off, I fell asleep on the couch, sitting up, alone, not even watching a Christmas special.

And, the next day?

My stocking was pretty empty… AND my house wasn’t clean!

Santa had not put any peace in my stocking OR cleaned my house! Can you believe that guy?

I started this post well before Christmas, and it just kept evolving. Then when Christmas Eve came, and Christmas came and went, I tried to write more and couldn’t. I think I had to process it all before coming back to it.

Before Christmas, I found some pictures of past Christmases, and my mom was in them maybe making me a little sentimental…

This year, my whole family got together the day after Christmas, and had a Christmas dinner. Before I even finished eating, people were cleaning up and getting ready to open presents. What?? I hadn’t finished my food or gone back for seconds yet!

"The kids want to open up the presents," someone said. "Who cares?" I said, "When we were kids at Grandma's house we had to wait patiently until everyone was done eating and cleaning up!!!"

Honestly, I was a little upset (my family won’t be surprised to read that, don’t worry - but by now they will have forgotten it). I was eating and talking to my sister in law, and they already had tables taken down… I’ve thought about why that really bothered me other than the obvious reasons, and I came to the conclusion that I think if my mom had been there, she wouldn’t have been done eating either. She would have been sitting there with us talking and eating.

For me, it was another Christmas let down. You picture yourself enjoying your Christmas dinner with family you love, only it felt like it lasted ten minutes.

I know. I’m pathetic. I am. But, there are just times in your life when you feel down, and then stuff keeps happening that keeps you down, or makes you want to stay down.

And that’s where that post ended… See? I was totally depressed and did not even know it. I remember crying while watching the news in early December of that year… Oh my.

It makes me so so so so sad that somehow all the pictures on my camera from this Christmas were deleted. Like very sad.  Did I mention that I was sad that all the pictures were deleted? 

Anway, we had friends over, and these are the pictures she took on that Christmas Eve and was kind enough to share them with me. 

At the end of these pictures I'll just write down my memories of the pictures that I took.  I think we have on video the kids opening their presents... I'm crossing my fingers that we do. 

Trevan and his friend



Oh my goodness, is this right before she threw up????????  How she managed not to get puke on the table I will never know.  It completely covered underneath the table... It must have been the only Christmas miracle that year.  :)

Or this one???  It was a nightmare...

This must be while John was upstairs during one of Mallary's many baths that night. 

I was literally on the verge of falling apart.  Had our friends not been there, I totally would have. 

Jonah has always loved Jennifer

I love that they captured his silly smile in this picture!  This is how he smiled for so long!!

At least they had fun making cookies!! 

So, that night I took pictures of Trevan opening his Christmas jammies, and Mallary asleep on our floor.  Then later that night she woke up and  threw up some more, after another bath she opened her Christmas jammies and put them on too.

 

Christmas morning pictures - I had some of them on the stairs with Mallary still looking a little sick...  We let her open presents while sitting on some towels with a bowl to puke in nearby - though I don't think she ever needed it. 

 

Some favorite Christmas memories from that year:

• It snowed a little bit (I think...)
• Trevan opening up this Star Wars game that you plug into a TV and he exclaimed, "This is better than a DS!!!!!
• Trevan had wanted a frog pillow pet, but I couldn't find one in time and my sister had found this GIANT frog, and when he opened it up he totally wrestled with it and played with it, it was so cute! 
• I surprised John by hemming some Christmas jammies from the year before that had ripped and he wanted me to make them into capris.  (I know he's a weird man...)  When John stood up and held them up in front of him, Trevan looked at him and said, "Those pants would fit Santa Clause!"  I think I laughed about that for a year!  Okay, I'm still laughing about that!!
• When handing Mallary another present to open, she said "I don't want anymore.  I have enough presents already."  (We only give three presents + usually one big and one little thing from Santa)
• Trevan gave Mallary a little Hello Kitty backpack for Christmas and Mallary exclaimed, "A BACKPACK!  I can go to school now like Trevan!"
• Talking to my BFF, Becky on the phone



Friday Flashback: Straight Jackets and Life Jackets

(This is a more recent Flashback...  This post was started well over a year ago...)

There are a lot of things I never pictured myself doing in life; watching my dad remarry, teaching my 82 year old grandma how to use a cell phone (true story - "Grandma, green means go, red means stop."), or writing about depression - especially my own.

Something just wasn't right in my life...
 
I was going through the motions of... living.

I was simply existing.

Barely....

I often found myself saying to everyone (and thinking in my head), "I don't know why I'm being like this," "I'm not normally like this, I don't know what's wrong with me?!"

I had no patience.  NONE. 

I was on the edge and the slightest breeze could blow me over. 

I couldn't remember anything.  I felt completely scatterbrained.  I thought my head could explode at any given minute. 

I was on the verge of an emotional breakdown.

Really, I was. 

I kept making jokes about friends having to come visit me in a psych ward, and that I needed to be put in a straight jacket. 

I was drowning, and joking about it.

Though, I may have actually needed a straight jacket, what I really needed was someone to throw me a life jacket.

Thankfully, my life jackets came in the form of self awareness:

1.  I was on the phone with one of my most honest friends, and she stated very matter of factly, "After all you've been through these past three years, how could you not need some therapy?  You would have to have super powers to be able to make it through all that with out some kind of help or therapy." 

Yeah, I do not have any super powers... 

2.  Another friend was over helping me prepare for a show one night and brought her daughter along who I pick up from school, and baby sit sometimes.  We were working and talking, and then out of the blue, her daughter said to me, "Holly, do you ever laugh?"  My friend laughed, and reassured her daughter that she hears me laugh a lot.  I, on the other hand, told my friend that her daughter was very insightful, but didn't add that lately I had been wondering the same thing. 

3.  I heard myself giving advice to someone, saying that if their home wasn't happy then they should seek help to do something about it.  Life is too short to be miserable.  Then, as I heard myself say that, I realized I wasn't following my own advice.

4.  I don't even remember the specifics of this one, but Trevan had done something in the kitchen, broken something or made some kind of a mess, and I freaked out.  I started yelling, and I was mad, and in my head I heard, "Why are you yelling?  It was just an accident, it's not a big deal.  What is wrong with you??!!??"  I felt like the worst mom ever. I never used to yell at my kids, and considered myself to be a very patient mother - that was a very big "ah ha moment" for me that something was seriously wrong. 

5.  My Grandpa was diagnosed with lung cancer.  That, for me, was the straw that broke the camel's back.  Within the hour that I got that phone call, I called my Doctor and got an appointment to see her that day.

I knew I couldn't possibly handle one more thing. 

6.  But, shortly before that (#5), I had already decided I was going to get help.  I just hadn't decided when... I was in the car, sitting in the passenger seat and John was driving.   I remember thinking to myself that I really just couldn't take any more. I just didn't want to deal with anything - I was just done, and I pictured myself opening the door while he drove, and me just falling out... I can tell you the exact spot on the interstate where I had that feeling. I pictured myself tumbling out of the door and just being done. 

I had never had a thought like that before in my life, and the moment I thought it, it scared me and I knew I needed to get help. 

I debated about whether to share any of this. But, this is part of me - part of my journey, and it's important to me to share the bad with the good. 

Someday, my children might find themselves down a similar path, and I don't want them to think they are alone in this.  I know there are people out there that are living lives that they aren't happy in, and if my kids find themselves in that position I want them to know it's okay to go for help.  Not just that it's okay - but don't delay it!  Get help!  Life is too short to live it miserably. 

There is such a stigma with taking medicine, or getting therapy.  I know, because I had to swallow my own pride to go see my doctor, and then swallow it again when I made the phone call to a therapist.  Admitting you need help is hard, asking for help is even harder.  But, for some reason we allow society to make us think that there is something wrong with getting help.  It's like, we are afraid of not being perfect, not fitting the image of having it all together, or that, heaven forbid, we need help!  It's not something to feel bad about, or to make us feel like we aren't the best or most perfect person/wife/mother.  We have to get over it.  Some things are in our control, and some aren't.

I realized that I deserved to be happy. I realized that my family deserved to be treated better, and deserved to be around a happier person. They were getting cheated, and I was definitely cheating myself. I realized that I have to be my best self if I want to help and teach my children to be their best selves.  My best self was crying for help.  I barely heard it...

Depression affected almost every aspect of my life, and I didn't even know it was happening.  It was such a gradual thing.  I can't pin point the exact moment where I started to feel like I was losing it.  It happened so slowly - the stresses had been piling up, and I was becoming less able to cope with what was going on around me.

That is what still gets me; I didn't even know it was happening, and didn't realize that I was slowly going down hill.

After getting my mind back (that's what I call it, because it was seriously missing), I could see the differences besides the ones I already mentioned.  My mind was working so hard to stay sane, and to keep me grounded, that it wasn't capable of focusing on anything else.  I couldn't be creative.  I couldn't plan a party, a meeting, nothing.  That, is definitely not like me.  I excel at organized chaos, but my mind was just spinning and I could not have a complete thought if someone paid me a million dollars for one.  I had no creative influx in my business.  I usually have ideas flowing non-stop, but I was at a standstill.  I couldn't create.  I couldn't write.  I have SO many unfinished, unpublished blog posts.  Looking back, I realized I stopped writing my Tuesday Tips, because I stopped seeing the humor in the crazy things kids typically do.  Which is SO not good when you deal with those things on a daily basis... 

I honestly thought I was losing my mind, I just could not figure out what was going on!  I wanted to run away and not tell anyone where I was going.

One night after being on my medicine for a few weeks, I was in the shower and I had my re-birth moment.  I came down from my shower to John doing dishes in the kitchen, and said, "Wow, I was really losing my mind. I can not believe I lived feeling like that for so long."  I could see and feel the difference, and couldn't believe I lived like that.  It was seriously amazing.  It was as if the fog had lifted and I could finally think clearly again.  Seriously, I felt like I had awakened from a coma, and my brain was saying, "Oh, hey, there you are, I've missed you."  It felt good, and I felt good.  (It makes me emotional re-reading that part because it was such a sad/happy moment for me -sad that I had been under such a fog - and happy to be out of it.)

After four or five appointments with my therapist, she told me I didn't need to come see her anymore.  When John got home from work that day, I told him what she had said, and he responded, "So you're rehabilitated?" 

We laugh about that - 'rehabilitated...'

It was and is such a great feeling to be back to "normal," I can't even explain it. 

I think I couldn't blog or record my life, because depression had taken over every aspect of it.  I stopped blogging my life regularly about two years ago this month, and it's like I couldn't pick up there until I wrote this.   As I go back, and start to publish some of the posts I started then, and over the past year and a half, I think you'll be able to tell that I was obviously going through something.  I couldn't bring myself to publish posts that weren't very sunshiney, and for a while, I wasn't feeling very sunshiney, and most likely I probably won't publish all of them. 

I'm an honest person, and I'm pretty open about this.  I don't think it's something to be ashamed of.  A combination of life, stressers, and genetics all came together to create the "perfect storm," (as my doctor called it.) Will I have to take medicine for the rest of my life? I have no idea.  If it helps me be the best me, then I will - no doubt about it.  I like to feel like me,  I don't particularly care for the other alternative.

I wrote this post a long time ago...  It's interesting to see people's views on depression...  Here's a few I'll share...

1-   Someone shared with me that someone told them that depression is just being lazy...  Other than the fact that I was a VERY productive depressed person, how ignorant are some people??

2-  People assumed it was medicine that made me not yell at my kids or my husband.  I quote, "Well, you're on medicine that makes it so you don't yell at your kids..."  Sure, it was helpful for me to be a little more chill while I was getting out of my funk, but yelling is a choice.  Before getting on medicine, I felt like I was at the end of my rope ALL THE TIME, yelling is what I resorted to.  I'm an emotional person, I've always been a yell-er to which my parents probably got really sick of while I was growing up...  But, I had never used to yell at my kids before this.  Sure, being on my medicine helped me have more patience, but therapy is what helped me not yell.  I'll quote my therapist, "You haven't yet made the decision that you aren't going to raise your voice.  You are an adult, you are capable of not yelling."  I know why Mallary was yelling back then, because I was.  It's interesting to see the differences in Trevan and Mallary.  For most of Trevan's life I didn't yell and he doesn't yell... Then there's Mallary...  We teach our kids how to cope with frustration; I was teaching Mallary that yelling was how to cope... 

3-  When you're depressed you aren't allowed to feel sad.   People assume you are only sad because you are depressed.  Not fair.  If I'm upset, sad, or emotional, some people assumed it's only because I was depressed, not actually validating that what I was upset, sad, or emotional about, any person would be upset, sad, or emotional over.

4 - Medication... Some people worry you might become addicted to anti-depressants.  They are not an addiction like pain killers could be.  It's just funny to hear people say things like that.  People ask you about your medication.  I was lucky, the first medicine (and the lowest dosage they prescribe) my Dr. prescribed worked for me.  Not everyone is so lucky. 

I got off my medication a little bit before John and I decided it was time to start trying for a baby, and I for sure could/can tell a difference. 

On that last visit with my therapist, well over a year and a half or so ago, the first thing she said to me was, "How is the transformation of Holly Hamilton going?"

Of course, that transformation is still taking place, and I think we are continually transforming (or should be) - trying to be the best version of ourselves we can be.  Some days, I have to make a conscience effort to not go to sad places, and dwell on hard things in my life.  Which has been harder at times being pregnant and a tad hormonal and not being able to exercise (a natural anti-depressant for me).  I can distinguish when thoughts are headed to depressive tendencies and I have to choose to ignore them or remind myself that that is not me or the person I want to be.  Will I need to get on medicine after I have my baby?  Who knows?  But, for sure if I need to, I won't hesitate to do so.

Depression is not something to be ashamed of or embarrassed of.   I don't think anyone should carry that around on top of the depression they already feel.  Those that need help, should get it.  Seriously, we are supposed to be happy - if we aren't then we should do something about it.

Life jackets were made to save us from drowning.  You can only tread water so long...  I want my kids to know that if someday they feel like they are emotionally or mentally drowning - please, go find a life jacket.