I Am a Lucky Woman

I really am, especially as far as friends go in my life. I didn't write that post about my depression looking for pity or seeking compliments. In fact, I went back and forth about posting it for a good hour and a half after it had been written because I didn't want people to pity or judge me for it.

If people are judging me, they are being quiet about it, which I appreciate- so keep it up.

What I did get, in place of the pity I was fearing, was an abundance of loving and helpful messages. Comments, E-mails, Facebook posts, phone-calls- you name it- all full of love and support. Some knew just where I was coming from as they had been there before, some recently. Others had never been there, but knew me well enough to know that if I was willing to be so bold about it, it must be a big deal.

It is. This is. This is hard, and humbling, and so frustrating.

Thank you so much, to those of you who reached out. It means more than you will ever know.

That was just the first part of what I wanted to touch on. This next part may very well not make a lot of sense to anyone, but I wanted to try and piece together in language some things running around in my head.

I am a lucky woman. I really am. I am so blessed. I have had my share of misfortunes, but, in the end, I am so very, very fortunate. My husband is incredible. My children are amazing. My parents are kind and supportive, and close. I have an awesome house, car, neighborhood, computer. . . . . on and on and on.

I am a lucky woman. I know that.

One of the things I am struggling with most right now is feeling so sad during such a blessed time in my life. I look around me at everything that I am blessed with, and I feel terrible. What kind of woman cries so much when she is so blessed?!

I do. I hate it.

People give advice to focus on the positive things in life to get through depression- but what if those good things are part of the sadness? What if a good chunk of the weight on my heart is the fact that my cup is overflowing with goodness, and I am too petty to take even a sip?

Does that make any sense?

I tried to talk about it with my friend, Carrie today on the phone (thanks for calling- I love you!) but it was weird to try and express my thoughts about it- thus this strange and mixed up rambling.

That is actually one of the things that let me know that my sadness was more than just baby blues or something else innocuous and trifling. I am not generally the kind of person to mope about- at least not for extended periods of time. My little Emma came and gave me a big hug one day and all I could do was sob.

I told her I stubbed my toe and it hurt.

I wasn't upset that she had hugged me. I loved that. I love her. She is so sweet and affectionate. She loves me so much, and I am so amazed that I get to raise her! She is fantastic! She was hugging me, and she is incredible. . . . . and yet. . . . . I was still sad.

Not OK.

I feel like I am displaying such an ungrateful attitude. I'm not though. I am so grateful! I am beyond thankful for the blessings in my life- so I am not really sure what to call this strange mix of acknowledgment and sadness.

I am hoping that soon I will be able to enjoy all these blessings without feeling . . . whatever it is I am feeling about them. I still can't really find the right words here.

As a way of heading to more positive thinking, tomorrow I will start writing about what I originally set out to use this venue for- a record of things that are helping.

Thanks again to all of you who are either staying silent about your disapproval, or being tangibly supportive and encouraging. I really do, without any sarcasm whatsoever, appreciate both efforts to help me.

I am a lucky woman.