Seven some years ago, when Ethan was merely a few months old, I was diagnosed with post partum depression and anxiety.

Because I am a self-proclaimed doctor, though, I knew it wasn't post partum depression.  It was just that Ethan gave me the reason to tell the doctor about things I have been struggling with since middle school.  Yes, middle school. 

At that point, I had a 4 month old that needed his momma, and I needed to be the momma he deserved, so I forced myself to see a doctor.  Since then, I have been on and off antidepressants and anti-anxiety medications until the present time.

Between 2004 and now, I spent a good several years off any medications, and did very, very well.  And then...IT happened.  By IT, I mean the sister crisis.

I know I don't have to go into it at all, because anyone who reads likely knows (and if you don't, go back in the archives to September 2010) but it clearly rocked my world.

Initially, I just took things as they came.  I approached each day with a positive attitude.  It wasn't until she came home that the depression hit, and hit hard.  There were days that had I not had a job and children to take care of, I never would have got out of bed. 

Since then, I am back on medication, which I can say with certainty it has saved my life, but things now are harder than they have ever been.

Antidepressants and anti-anxiety meds only take you so far.  I think of it like this:  Every single day, there is a huge storm brewing inside of me.  Some days I am more powerful than the storm.  Other days the storm overpowers me.  Most days, the storm is in control.  Even on the days that I feel more in control, there is no denying the storm is in the background.

I pray that some day I will feel better and be able to fully go off medications, but I know that is not going to happen any time soon.

I have had people tell me that I need to be hush-hush about my mental stability, because I am a nurse.  To that, I say with a firm NO WAY.  I'm human and I have feelings just like every other human.  Everyone responds to things differently, and everyone is wired differently.  Unfortunately for me, I take everything very hard.  On the outside, I appear happy and calm.  On the inside, I am forcing myself to function.

Don't get me wrong.  I'm not a walking suicide risk.  I have an amazing family, an extremely supportive husband who somehow puts up with me and my emotions, and two children that literally make me thank God for giving me another day with them.  I am in a profession that I have absolutely no doubt at all was made for me, and I have a nice circle of friends that I know I can turn to at any time.

I'm just sharing this because it's a part of me.  It's a part of my day-to-day life nowadays.  I still do what I need to do, and I always feel so accomplished when I fight the storm and win.