Every now and then, I get in a rut. It’s odd how it always follows an amazing day or set of days. Life seems bleak and for some reason, communication with anyone becomes scarce to nil, on their end as well as mine.

Today is one of those days.

I try not to look in the mirror because there are too many things wrong with the reflection. Loneliness heaps up on me like a ton of bricks as two of my kids are in school and my 1 year old is sleeping. The house is quiet and the bottle of wine in the fridge seems extremely tempting. I feel exhausted and worthless and would rather curl up on my bed and sleep all day than clean the kitchen, living room, bathrooms and bedrooms.

I worry and think a little too much about life on earth after my death or the death of my loved ones.

It’s a really scary place to be.

I would find myself in these places a lot more frequently as a teen and would self-injure, get drunk or high to get through it. Suicide was a frequent thought when Jase and I lived in the South for two years. Now I just don’t do anything when sadness kicks in and I think way too much. Sometimes I end up just surfing around online for hours on end, like a zombie.

Blame it on hormones, the devil, being a stay-at-home mom (with little to no recognition for hard work), God’s testing, lack of faith/prayer/joy, lack of sleep, talking about my past with others, or the normal strain of life… and the darkness is still there. It doesn’t matter where it stems from.

Oddly, sometimes I like being in this place. I’m comforted with the normalcy of pain. It seems a lot more real to me than joy. I’ve seen way too many fake people being nice or happy than fake people being sad or angry. It’s strange to me how much more real of an emotion this is than my usual joy.

Sometimes these moments pass in a day and other times it takes a week or two.

It’s a struggle just to find things to be happy about. Things that are normally funny to me don’t even make me crack a smile. I struggle with not letting the trauma I’ve put on myself, the fear of being a failure, or the pain that others have inflicted on me, overwhelm me completely.

It’s in times like these that I am so grateful to have children, am married and am a mentor. There have been times where I’ve curled up in a ball, neglecting my children, in my closet, and cried my eyes out in their presence and times where I’ve locked myself in my bathroom and just sat in a corner and bawled while trying to get suicidal images out of my head. There have also been times when I’ve thrown things and screamed, at the top of my lungs, at Jase.

Even so, they still love me. In the mistakes that I make and the pain that I cause, they still love and accept me.

Simply the fact that I have people and innocent children loving and depending on me helps me fight stronger and better.

I’ve heard it said that people should not depend on others to get them out of their depression, but I do. Of course I depend on God, first, but I don’t know where I’d be without Jase, our kids and the many other people that have shown me love.

The good memories, laughter and fun times sustain me.

Now, to just be able to stay focused on that…

**Clarification: After doubting that I had actually thrown thing”s” at Jase, I discussed this with him and we really only have ONE recollection of me throwing something at him. Readers, there is no need to fear because (after being married for 10 years and moving 11 times) not only was it a one-time throw but it was a plastic bowl and… it missed him and hit the wall. So, rest assured. ;) **