Heading home.

As more and more information comes out about bullying and bullies, largely in part to these recent horrific stories, I struggle with my own assuredness that I am better. I feel better. I look back at pictures from the period and know I had some good times but my memory of those days are kind of blurry. That’s what bullying and the aftermath has done for me. I have forgotten aspects of many good days. So what have I been doing the last three years?

I didn’t medicate through my treatment. I opted not to go the anti-depressant drug route and I don’t know if it was a mistake or not but it was my choice. However, I was in a fog. The depression consumed me. I functioned, I know I did, but I know I haven’t always been altogether engaged.

I use past tense purposefully although I am sure I am not all the way out of those gloomy times. But lately, I am more myself than I have been for years, I know this. I think my friends and family who have known me for a long time would speak to my silliness, my quirkiness and my fun. What drew my husband to me, he tells me, was that I was bubbly to his quietness. I worked with a man years ago who nicknamed me Sparky. That was before bullying, before depression. B.D. It bothers me a lot but the recent awareness that the traits that made me ME are rising again to the surface thrills me. Thrills me.

I surrounded myself with family and I just shut up...maybe shut out. Over the last three years I stopped talking with people. Some might think that was the depression. I don’t think so, I think it was the healing. I have a group of lovely, lovely friends. About 10 of us and I love us, I really do. But, I had to stop talking. People say the way to get through a rough period is to surround yourself with friends and keep busy. I couldn’t. I just simply could not. It was different than grief and depression I think. I instead dropped out and focused on my home, my family and getting better...focused, what? On me? What? It wasn’t a dark time...those days that were dark were the days I spent outside my home in a work environment where eyes turned the other way while I crumbled. I was now in the days of my recovery.

There wasn’t a lot of “work” being done around the house as I was not into it. So its not like I became a super home maker; I most definitely did not. You have more than likely seen those commericals about depression and they are pretty accurate. It was very hard to be motivated. If I had people in, and I did throw some big events over the last three years, it was for family. In the midst of my recovering I realized my family had no idea what had been going on. None. As I came out of it I realized I wanted very much...and it has become my priority...for my family to know each other. It didn’t matter that they had no idea what was going on but what mattered to me was that we were so much out of contact that they didn’t know what was going on, if that makes sense. It has always been a priority for my kids to know each other and to spend time together but the extended family became a focus for me. I have over the last three years gotten to know each a little better and spent a little more time with them; I love, love, love my family.

I love where I am headed.