Have you ever been caught in the ocean too far away on the other side of the rip tide? I was once. It was kind of scary. The tide just kept pushing me further and further away from the shore. I’m a really strong swimmer, but the ocean is mighty and I was no competition. I tried not to panic and use everything I had been taught. I could see the shore and people and people could see me, but they didn’t know I was being kept away. I eventually figured out I needed to get under the water to get back to shore. I had to stop fighting. It worked. I let the water carry me to shore. This was my depression.
I was going through my days and trying to act normal and not panic, all the while I was sinking deeper into the depression. Everyone was around me. I knew they loved me and wanted to help, but I just couldn’t get the footing to get to them. God knows I wanted to. The depression was mighty and stronger than me.
So, I drank. I drank to try to feel normal. I drank to try not to feel. I drank to breathe. The six months after we moved were so brutal to me. The worst part is, I believed the voices in my head. Telling me I was a loser mom, a terrible wife and a horrible sister and daughter. The voices that convinced me that my best life was behind me and that I had nothing to live for anymore. I believed the lies and I believed the fear. Fear is a liar. I know that now. But in those days, I fell for the lies hook, line and sinker.
I had to go under in order to get out of the depression. That’s how I got back to shore. I feel like I really drowned during those months. I had to stop fighting and acknowledge the fact that I was drowning. Once I stopped fighting, I was able to get pulled back to shore.
I never intend to get caught behind a rip tide again. I will take precautions and pay attention to what is going on around me. And if I get caught, I will yell for help and I will not fight.