Be Yourself. An original is worth more than a copy (EDITED VERSION)

Be Yourself. An original is worth more than a copy.

When it comes to alot of things in life, I am generally a very private person but I felt compelled to share my experiences in hopes that it may help other women like me. Women who feel alone and are afraid to expose their situations and struggles. This was my life; I lived it isolated in my own world. This is my story.

I am a wife. I have Bipolar 1, MDD (Major Depressive Disorder), Borderline Personality Disorder, Severe Anxiety, and ADHD. I've also had an on and off battle with both Anorexia and Bulimia most of my life, one of which spiraled out of control this past summer and almost left me hospitalized. I am still struggling with it on a daily basis. But most importantly, above all else, I am a mom.

Part of why I'm writing this is because I love being a mom. I never thought it was possible to love someone so much until my son was born. I can't believe I made that perfect little person! I didn't always feel that way. I felt like it was a tough struggle from the very beginning. I had a hard time getting pregnant. It was hard to see all my friends having babies and that it wasn't happening for me. However when least expected it happened! Mood wise, I felt amazing through my entire pregnancy. The hormones that make people miserable seemed to actually balance me out. In that sense I would have loved being pregnant forever! When my son was born, everything changed. I only held him briefly after he was born, due to complications I had after delivery.

My son was born November 2, 2011. I loved him instantly, but becoming a parent terrified me. I didn't know what to do when he cried. I felt like didn't know anything. I thought my emotions were just that of becoming a new mom and hoped it would soon get better.
I was crying constantly after we left the hospital. Part of it was due to Bipolar Disorder so my emotions were naturally fragile. But it was more than that. When my son was a week and a half old, it was quite obvious that I was suffering from post partum. My therapist called my doctor and I was given a low dose of Prozac, the only thing I could take at the time as I was still giving my son breastmilk. The medication did nothing for me, and even when I stopped pumping, she couldn't as a gynecologist give me anything stronger. So I stopped taking it. Then my son became Colic. It was the longest three months of my life. He never stopped crying unless he was eating or sleeping. He had to be held all the time because every time I would put him down he would scream. I slept on the couch with him for the first 4 months of his life... its amazing how little sleep you learn to survive on! The day he turned three months old he screamed all day. That was the last day like that. The colic was over, but I was still the same. I wasn't enjoying being a mom at all.

Before I was pregnant, my therapist was advising me to see a psychiatrist, in hopes that medication would help. I resisted, and by the time I had finally agreed, I was pregnant. When I stopped taking the Prozac, I still felt depressed, but still wouldn't go see a psychiatrist. I continued on this downspiral for months, literally crying all the time. I started purging again; the one thing I have always turned to for the empty feeling of relief. When my son was 6 months old, I gave in. After 6 months, I still didn't enjoy being a mom. I couldn't take it anymore. I knew I needed medication.

From June 2012 to May 2013 I saw a psychiatrist who started me on a few different medications, and within that time adjusted the dosages a few times. It made little difference. My post partum was still awful, I still wasn't enjoying being a mom. So after very little results, I decided it was time for a new psychiatrist. My therapist knew someone who she said would be the perfect match for me, and when it comes to professionals, that is what you need. There has to be that personality match; either click or you don't. In the beginning of June 2013, I had my first appointment, and thankfully she was the perfect match! She actually kept me on the same medications I had, just lowered the dosage of one and raised the dosage on the other two.

Right around that time, Anorexia really took over my life, but I didn't want to see it... no one with an eating disorder sees what the rest of the world sees. I just saw it as I didn't really have an appetite, and if I'm not hungry I'm not going to eat. I was finally starting to love what I saw, both in the mirror and on the scale. I was always tired, super moody (there's only so much medication can do when your body is being destroyed), and dizzy a lot of the time. I had multiple people express their concerns about my weight, to which I dismissed because I felt it wasn't their business. Most people think this disease is a choice, but it isn't. There are so many emotions that go along with it. May, June, and July were by far the worst. I was weighing myself 3 times a day, sometimes more. I was living on cereal (which is actually one of the most common food among people with eating disorders I learned). The end of July, I looked in the mirror one day, and instead of seeing the girl I was beginning to love, I saw what was beginning to look like a skeleton. At that moment, I knew I needed help. I turned to a close friend, when I knew I was in way over my head. She said she was on the verge of confronting me about it herself. My husband had no idea what was going on until I finally told him. When he saw me getting dressed one day he couldn't believe what he saw. He said this needed to stop and I needed to fix this and to do what I needed to do. I started seeing my therapist twice a week. By mid September, I was doing somewhat better. It's still very much a part of me, and I still freak out if I gain any weight, but I am working through this issue in therapy. I am trying to take it day by day. If it weren't for my amazing therapist, I wouldn't be where I am today.

That fall, I felt like my medication was finally working... and I was starting to feel great! Being Bipolar I still have ups and downs, but I was handling daily life much better. One additional medication has been added, as the ADHD is a recent diagnosis, and I can finally focus like a real person. However, the hyper part is still there. Anyone who knows me knows I can't stand or sit still for more than 2 minutes ( I can't tell you how many times I have gotten up while writing this). Sorry everyone, it's probably never going to change!

I have gone through all of these struggles and challenges all while being a mom. I lost practically a year and a half of my life... my sons first year and a half of life, being trapped in postpartum. Yes being Bipolar amongst other issues were a contribution, but I could tell the difference between them. It saddens me that I missed out on so many moments of being a mom. I never thought this would happen to me, but it did. I survived, but it was a very long year and a half. I am so thankful to have the husband I do, who spent a lot of time being both parents to my son when I couldn't handle it. I could not have gotten through this without him.

I know there are moms out there like me; many of them. We don't choose post partum, it chooses us. So many feel alone in this battle, and don't think they should feel the way they do. Taking the step towards getting help will be the best step you ever take. So many moms don't want to go public with their struggle, they are ashamed, or embarrassed, and they shouldn't be. There is nothing wrong with getting the help you need to enjoy being a mom. I never planned to share my story, but if it helps one mom, from going through what I went through, it would be worth it.

Don't look back with regret, look forward with hope.

Unconditional love.

Everyone deserves to have it.  Most feel it from birth.  Some go thru life desperately searching for that feeling.  I'm the latter of the two.

My son is my world.  He's saved my life in more ways then one.  My husband is one of my best friends.  I love them more than words can express.  I know how it feels to give love unconditionally.  But I feel like I've spent most of my life not knowing how it feels to receive it.

To be able to teach someone the true meaning of unconditional love is life's greatest lesson.  I'm eternally grateful to finally know how it feels to experience it on the receiving end.

I've learned that you don't have to give birth or share the same DNA to love someone like your own.

Despite there being only a 7 year age gap, I'm her baby girl, and have been since the young age of 16.  I've learned it's not about being inseparable,  its about being separated and nothing changes.  We spent many years apart yet now have a bond that is stronger than ever.  Without her, I wouldn't be the person I am right now, nor would I know how it feels to receive the unconditional love I know I deserve to have.

Unconditional love is daily I love you's.  It's an endless supply of hugs, wiping tears, advice, over protectiveness, sheltering, and support.  It's late night phone calls and/or texts no matter how tired.  It's trying to double as a mom and sister.  It's being complete opposites yet sharing an unbreakable bond.  It's losing a child and sharing a broken heart.  It's no disappointment or judgement.  It's treating the words "I need you" as a crisis.  It's loving my child whole heartedly.  It's helping edit blogs to achieve success. I know no matter how many mistakes I make or how many times I screw up, I'm still her baby, and that will never ever change. She promised she will take care of me till the day she dies, and I truly believe that.  Her love for me is endless.  She has taught me life's greatest lesson without even realizing it.

"There will always be a reason why you meet people.  Either you need them to change your life or you are the one that will change theirs".

Maybe sometimes it's both.  I only hope I've made half the impact in her life that she's made in mine.

Thank you.  I love you to the moon and back.

Sometimes the only way to find yourself is to get completely lost.

I feel almost exactly the same as I did 2 years ago, right before I just lost it completely and just downspiraled and stopped caring about everything.... the whole middle of 2013 was not pretty.... I honestly try to pretend sometimes that it didn't happen.

I've gained almost 40 lbs in the last 10 months.  I won't even look in a full length mirror anymore because I'm completely disgusted with what I see.  I'm 2 lbs away from my highest weight ever (not counting pregnancy) and I feel awful.  My pants are ridiculously tight, but I refuse to buy a bigger size because I refuse to wear anything bigger than an 8.  I could feel it happening, but I just kept telling myself that I cannot keep gaining... yet I still do.  I don't even want to go shopping anymore... it's gotten that bad.

I feel like after the miscarriage I started to really go downhill.  And when my husband put me thru the rollercoaster of going back and forth between wanting another child then not multiple times, then making the decision that we should wait 3 years... well I think that was my final straw and I really just stopped caring about pretty much everything and just turned to emotional eating as a means of coping.  But lately, I've really been craving the empty feeling that I've loved most of my life.... and I feel like I really NEED it.

I just keep trying to tell myself that once my medications are back to my original dosages that life will be more bearable for me.  I wish I didn't have to go back on them because I don't want to have to take medication for the rest of my life to be happy and functioning... but I honestly don't think I have an alternative.  For whatever reason I got dealt these shitty cards and this is the rest of my life, whether I like it or not.  Bipolar and Depression run on both sides of my family so honestly it's like I didn't even have a chance at an escape from it.

I have always associated constant crying with being depressed, but as I've gotten older I've realized that just because tears aren't rolling down my cheeks 24/7 doesn't mean I'm not depressed.  Just because I seem stable doesn't mean I am.  I can put on a good front if I have to... and I've learned to.

I've lost a child and I still can't come to terms with it.  Every time I see someone pregnant I just keep thinking that's supposed to be me.  I'm supposed to in one of the happiest times of my life right now, and instead it's the complete opposite and I NEVER thought things would be like this.

Now that my husband has us on this "3 year plan" (which I honestly don't even know if I believe), I have no idea what to do.  I have ADHD and OCD.... I need routine and consistency and don't know what I'm supposed to do knowing nothing is a guarantee.  I'm a planner.  It's like the movie 50 First Dates... I seriously need that kind of repititiveness in my life.  I'm not a "let go and see what happens" kind of person.  I honestly think it's just not in me.  When I don't have routine, all hell breaks loose.

Having lived most of my life with an eating disorder, staying sober has always been hard because I ALWAYS go back... it's my go-to... my escape and nothing else can fulfill that feeling of emptiness that I crave so desperately.... no matter how hard I try.  And all I want right now is cereal.

I feel extremely unhappy with almost every aspect of my life and I don't even know how things got this way... I just don't know what to do or how to even begin to change and\or fix them.

The prettiest smiles hide the deepest secrets. The prettiest eyes have cried the most tears, and the kindest hearts have felt the most pain.

Just because it doesn't show on the outside doesn't mean I don't think about it daily... and doesn't mean it doesn't still kill me inside.

I should be almost 18 weeks pregnant, rocking maternity clothes, hoarding baby clothes, and decorating my ocean themed nursery for my little Tyler Blake or Leah Izabella-Hope.

But here I am, 13 weeks later, back on medication, and crying behind closed doors about the child I lost, with the only memory I have of it being a picture of a positive pregnancy test.

I know I'm surrounded by people who love me unconditionally and are always willing to listen and be there for me no matter what.  But I guess there is a part of me that feels like I should be "over it" by now... so sometimes it's easier to bury the feelings then share them.

Now back on medication and awaiting a new IUD, I feel like I've failed.  I wanted this so badly.  My husband made the decision that we should wait till my son is 6 or 7 to try again.  It isn't what I want but I have no choice but to accept that is the only option if I still want another child. That's still 3 years away...  even then there is no guarantee I'll get pregnant again.  What if this was my only chance?

I tell myself once my medication is back to the normal dosages that I won't feel this awful, but honestly, I don't know if that's the case.  I'm heartbroken.  I don't know how to move forward with my life after a loss like this.  I never thought I would ever have to experience this heartache,  yet here I am.

There is a part of me that thinks maybe there really isn't a "time table" as to how long it will take to heal.  We all deal with and handle things differently.  It's hard to go from feeling like everything is perfect... to the ultimate crash down so quickly.

So at this point I honestly just feel stuck.  Things aren't going to happen the way they were supposed to, and I have to somehow figure out how to accept that.... but at the same time I don't want to because it isn't what I wanted.  I want that baby back.  I want to be able to turn back the clock and have never had to experience what I have.  I feel like the last 6 months of my life were a total waste of time.  I spent 6 months off medication I needed to gain absolutely nothing, and lose a child in the process.  I want to close my eyes and have everything be different.... and I can't.

My life will never be the same.  And neither will I.

Sometimes, your heart needs more time to accept what your mind already knows.

It's been 6 weeks.  I thought by now it would all make sense to me but I'm still in a fog.  It doesn't help that I know someone whose due date is two weeks before mine was supposed to be.... she posted a pic of her child on Facebook holding ultrasound pics, and all I could think was...

That's supposed to be me.

I'm supposed to be pregnant with my May baby.  I'm supposed to be happy.  My son is supposed to have a sibling. I think about that baby....

EVERY.  SINGLE.  FREAKING.  DAY.

Just because I'm not crying 24/7 or talk about it doesn't mean I'm not sad.  I'm devastated.  I never thought this would happen to me.  I had testing done which proved it was a miscarriage, but showed no reason as to why, which is supposed to be a good thing.  I'm free to try again, but I'm now dealing with the intense fear of having another miscarriage.  I don't want to go through that again... the pain is too intense.

I've now spent 5 months off medication that I need in order to try to have a baby.... and I feel like a failure.  I know I need that medication.... trust me, everyone around me knows I need it!  I know I should throw in the towel, but I can't bring myself to do it.  I got pregnant.  I had a miscarriage.  I know what it's like to feel like you've lost everything.  But I did get pregnant.... so I know it's possible.  I'm dangling by what at this point,  feels like a thread,  but I'm too thick headed to give up.  I feel like if I give up now, the last 5 months have been nothing but a waste of time.  I'm so stressed out and so emotionally drained I can't think straight.  I want another child.  I want my son to have a sibling.  But how far am I willing to sink into this depression before I realize I need to give in?  All I want to do is sleep.  I can easily sleep 9-10 hours a night and still be exhausted.  I know from previous deep depressions, that sleep is one thing that has always been a comfort to me.

I know I need to do what's best for my husband and for the child I do have.  They deserve to have the best of me, which at this point,  I can't give them.  It makes me sad in all aspects.  I'm so sunk right now that I just keep hoping things will make some miraculous turn around.... which is highly unlikely.  I just continue to watch myself sink deeper and deeper...

The worst kind of pain is when you're smiling just to stop the tears from falling.

1 in 5.  20%.

That's how many pregnancies end in miscarriage.

I never thought I would be in that category.  I never knew it was possible to hurt so much that my heart literally feels broken into a million pieces.

For those several days I thought #2 was on the way, I was ecstatic.  I even took 3 tests, just to be sure.  I felt like everything was finally falling into place, I was about to have everything I ever wanted.  My son was going to be a big brother.  I was online hunting down stuff for my ocean themed nursery that I just had to have.  I told my closest friends.  We made so many plans for the future.

And then it all came crashing down.

Like a ton of bricks.

"1 in 5 people miscarry.  It isn't anything you did wrong.  Unfortunately, this happens".

I knew something was wrong, but to actually hear it is a totally different story.  I just sat there fighting back tears while trying to process it all.  After I left, I spent a lot of time crying.  Life around me goes on while I'm just existing, trying to grieve what I've lost.  I don't know where to go from here.  A part of me is just gone.

One of my friends told me earlier she knows there's nothing she can say or do to ease my pain right now.  Honestly, she's right.  There isn't anything anyone can say or do to make it all just go away... I wish it were that easy.  I don't know what to do, I don't know how to move forward.  I'm trying to keep busy, but avoiding it isn't doing me any favors either.  I wanted this baby so badly, I can't pretend that I'm not hurting to the extreme.  I can't pretend it never happened.  I tell myself that eventually there will just be no more tears to cry, that I will eventually cry myself out.  I've been told time heals pain.  Not sure how much truth there is in that, as the wound is still so fresh.

There is also that part of me that is angry.  I was always a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, however that line is bullshit to me at this point.  There is no good in this.  I went off medication I know I need to do this... I've spent months just keeping my head above water... because it was worth it to me.  Why did this have to happen to me?  It's like everything is back to square one.

Now I'm just a statistic... in the one category I never wanted to be in.

When you reach the end of your rope, tie a knot in it, and hold on.

It's been 5 months since my last blog.  I was doing so much better, I feel like I made a complete turnaround,  to the point where a few months ago my husband and I decided we wanted to have another baby.  It wasn't an overnight decision, we put alot of thought into it before moving forward, because that meant I would have to come off the one medication that really works for me, and I wasn't sure if I would be able to function without it.  I weaned off it faster then recommended,  but still safely.  Of the 4 medications I was taking, I now only have one.  How am I functioning?  Worse than I hoped but pretty much what I expected.  I've learned I really do need medications, mine really do work for me.  However, I knew coming off them was a risk, but for me it was worth it.

But I also knew there was a chance I wouldn't be able to function without it and that I would have to throw in the towel and accept that I would only have 1 child.  That is becoming more of a reality that I thought, since the last few months we've been unsuccessful.  I'm not at the end of my rope yet, but I can feel myself declining.  It's hard because I know how good I felt while I was taking it, and to know that I could feel better than I do quite honestly, sucks.  I want this to happen for me.  I want my son to have a sibling.  I have a room theme picked, we have names picked, and I'm so hellbent on NOT finding out the gender ahead of time... I love the thought of being surprised.  I honestly have no preference to a girl or another boy... just a healthy baby.  Although another boy would be a million times cheaper!

It's hard to not be excited, because it's what I want, but I feel there is that part of me that has to accept there is a good chance this isn't going to happen for me.  I don't know how much longer of a time table I have.  It TERRIFIES me that I might reach the end of my rope and have to walk away from it.  I don't want it to come to that.  It took me awhile to get pregnant the first time, and I don't know I can wait that long this time around.  It scares me to not know.  I hate talking about it, I hate thinking about it, but I also can't act like its not eating away at me on a consistent basis.  Just the thought of it not happening puts me in tears.  I don't know how I will be if it comes to that.

Today has just been a particularly rough day, and on days like this everything feels 100x worse.  Although it may not seem that way, I'm trying very hard to not be pessimistic.  I know it hasn't been that long, but let me say when you need medication to function fully, time feels like an eternity.  These last few months have felt like a year.  All I want to do is sleep.  I've gained back a lot of the weight I lost and am no longer comfortable in my own skin, which I know is also contributing to the depression.  I hate looking in the mirror. My anxiety is at an all time high most of the time.  Everything irritates me.

I'm hoping I can keep it together long enough to get pregnant....and then at least I know I have 9 months till I get to hold that little bundle and get my medication back.  Only time will tell.  Until then, I will try my best to keep holding on...