They say all you have to do is take that first step – whether literally or figuratively. Take that one step towards your journey. One step at a time to achieve your dreams. One step towards a better life. 

But in some cases, not all steps are the best steps.

One step off the ledge.

One step in front of the moving car.

One hard step on the gas pedal.

One slit of the wrist.

One pull of the trigger.

Some steps we take make us fall deeper and deeper. They encompass our entire being. They push us towards the end – towards the end of our existence. Towards the end of our being.

I have felt these steps far too often. They lay in the back of my mind more times than I would like to admit.

These steps fill my soul with sorrow and remorse. I ache at the thought that these fill my mind. I wish I could say I haven’t gotten close to taking these steps, but the truth is – I have.

I have allowed these thoughts to live. I have allowed them to shake me to my core.

But what I haven’t allowed is for them to end my story.

I have not allowed for these steps to overtake me.

I have not allowed them to become me.

I won’t let these steps become my next steps in life. They may be thoughts and ideas, but they will not become me.

They won’t become the end of my story.

They won’t be the end of me.

I will take the steps that bring me higher. The steps that lift my spirit and bring me joy. These steps may not be as easy for me to take or follow, but they are steps that are needed.

Taking a step forward each day – no matter how small or how slow – is what matters. Looking forward and not allowing a few steps back keep me from moving.

It happened again.

That pounding in my chest.

The endless downward spirals of my mind – that dropped me deeper and deeper until there was no light in sight. 

I couldn’t breath. 

I couldn’t separate truth from fiction. 

My mind couldn’t focus.

The notion to do it hit – to take that step.

My heart ached too hard to fight. 

The tears began to fall slowly – then all at once.

Was this going to be it? 

Was this going to be my end? 

“There is still hope for tomorrow,” a voice whispered.

My heart sank – I knew it wasn’t my time.

I wanted to give up. 

I wanted to rid myself of this agony. 

There has got to be more to this life than this. 

The truth is – my life is beautiful – every life is.

In the good days and the bad days. 

Sometimes it seems like the bad will never end. 

My mind plays tricks on me and it’s difficult to get past those. 

In the good days I forget the bad, but sometimes it’s good to remember. 

Remember the pain to show you how far you’ve come each day. 

The pain may never go away altogether, but light will seep through. 

The tunnel will come to an end – and the spirals will grow smaller and smaller.

I don’t have any answers or any powerful statements, but I do have hope. 

Hope that each day will bring something beautiful – big or small.

The beauty is there. 

Some days words fail me. I cannot cohesively write or think. All I am left with is questions. Questions filled with why. Why me. Why this. 

Have you ever wondered why me? Why did this have to happen? Why am I like this? I am sure many of us have in some form or fashion. For me, it’s why was I created depressed? Why be born only to live in suffering?  I thought I was a happy child, but as I think back I remember all the times I longed to disappear. Through my pain and my tears, all I wanted to do was float away and never return. 

As an adult, I sometimes feel so lost that no words can solve my problem. So lost that all I can do is cry. So lost that no person can make my pain go away. This is a feeling I wish upon no one. It is painful. It is in these moments that I grieve for something better. I grieve for something that can take away this pain. 

In these moments, I try to turn to God. It doesn’t always happen perfectly. Sometimes I question everything. Other times, I lean on Him. 

I read a verse the other day. It was one that I have heard many times before, but this time it just hit different. 

“Father, if you are willing, take this cup of agony away from me. But no matter what, your will must be mine.” Luke 22:42

This verse takes place in the Garden of Gethsemane. Jesus was about to be betrayed by one of his own disciples and hung on the cross for us. Jesus was still man though, so this was not an easy task. He was torn and he struggled knowing what he was about to go through. 

Many times I struggle knowing my own pain and insecurities. They aren’t always easy for me to deal with, and I constantly wonder, why me? Why is this something I have go through? What is the lesson, if there even is one? In life we will go through trials, but God is with us always. He will guide our every steps. 

After reading more into this scripture, I found that this garden was an olive mill – a place where olives are crushed to make oil. This is symbolic of Jesus having his fleshly desires crushed so He would find the strength to do God’s will.

Sometimes our earthly desires our crushed. We don’t always have the answers, but it is through those times we are to lean on God’s Word. It is when I feel broken and destroyed that I cling to the Father. When I am so overwhelmed, I turn to Him. 

Sometimes, no, I don’t always want to cling to Him because truth be told I don’t understand why pain happens fully, but I know that in that pain He is with me. Through my depression, He is with me. When I am crushed in spirit, He still walks beside me. 

Some days I feel nothing. I feel alone, and I feel broken. I feel like everyone has left me. It is in my abandonment I find Him closer. He’s still with me, even when I may not feel Him. He restores my mind and calms my spirit. 

I may not know all the answers, but I know who carries me through my pain and brings me joy. The questions will still come, but it is through Him I find my peace.

Just when I thought my depression was gone it all comes back. 

The tears come flooding in. The pain fills my soul. My body screams in agony. It aches, and as much as I try I cannot stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks. I cannot stop the ache in my bones. My skin feels like it’s deteriorating, and I am left exposed. I am left with an open wound. The pain encompasses my entire being. My mind is moving in a million different directions, yet it feels frozen all at the same time. My heart is beating like the drums at a rock concert. My head cannot stop pounding, and all I want is for it all to go away. All I want is to float away and feel nothing. All I want is for the tears to dissolve and the river to dry up. And after what feels like an eternity, they eventually do. It eventually all stops, and what I’m left with is a migraine, confusion, and a room full of tissues. 

So what then? What do I do when my emotions have enveloped my entire being and I feel left with nothing? What do I do when I have no answers? What do I do when I don’t even have the words to tell my husband how I am feeling and what he can do to help? 

I feel empty. I feel nothing. Just worthless and alone. 

But I am never alone. Even in my darkest times, He is with me. He is holding me and wrapping me in His arms. Some days I feel Him. I feel His presence. I feel His warmth, but some days I feel empty. Some days the depression feels so impenetrable that nothing else can withstand it. Nothing can overpower it. Some days it all seems hopeless. I don’t want to be like this forever, but what if this is my forever? What if this is all I am left with? 

This cannot be the end. 

This cannot be my full story. 

Why would I have been created if this was it? God does not make mistakes, so why would I be this way? And that, that I do not have an answer for. I am not sure there even is an answer, but what I so know is this. 

Just when it all seems hopeless, I am reminded that I am still loved. I am reminded that I was created for a purpose. I am reminded that this is not my forever. So just when you feel this is the end, remember that this is just the beginning. The beginning of your healing. The beginning of your hope. The beginning of your joy.  

Here I am in my third year of teaching telling myself I am actually doing it. Some days I look back and wonder how I even made it this far, which in reality is not that far, but this isn’t about comparison. It’s about growth.

My first year was – well hell. Like any first year teacher, I had no idea what I was doing. On top of that, I did not feel like I was being supported. I was a few years out of college and eager to learn and grow, but I was quickly thrown into the lion’s den – as with any job. 

I was hired just two weeks before school started. I had no supplies or decorations. Thankfully, my parents quickly bought me tons of classroom necessities to help get me started. I was so excited and overjoyed with my new classroom and career. My dream to be a teacher despite my obstacles – more on that another day – was about to become a reality. That perfect dream quickly came crashing down. Those first few weeks everything seemed to move at an alarming rate. I was here and there and everywhere at any given moment.

I am a quiet, reserved person, and classroom management is not my strong suit. That quickly showed. I do not yell at my students, and will not due to the fact that I will not want from my own children’s teachers.

The year started, and my classroom was filled with 23 little cuties who all happened to enroll way after enrollment ended, which showed in the environment right away. I teach at a well to do school in a very well off community, so I was not expecting some of the difficulties that I got. On Meet the Teacher night, I met all of my students and their parents. I was nervous, excited, uneasy, anxious, and so much more. I am sure the parents were just as nervous to have a first year teacher as I was to be a first year teacher, but hey we all have to start somewhere. Little did I know, not everyone sees things that way. 

Right away, I was hit hard with critiques and doubts. I tried my best, but my best seemed to not be good enough. I cannot tell you how many times I was pulled into the principal’s office because my classroom management was not up to par. With every meeting, I asked what I need to do to be better, and I was always told to simply improve. What concrete steps do I need to take? “You need to get better.” “You need to wear makeup.” “You need to wear your hair down everyday.” None of these were things I needed to hear. Also, you are technically not allowed to tell a person how to do their hair and makeup, but that was never put into writing, so I had no proof. I was lost. I felt helpless. At one point in the early year, my mom came to visit my classroom and graciously tested all of my students on their letters and sounds – a kindergarten standard. At this point, I had monthly meetings with my principal, and I brought this data to my principal and she was pleased. She told me I was working hard and improving. The thing was I did not change ANYTHING. I simply kept teaching how I was teaching. When they first had their issue with me they told me the students were not learning, but they never brought forth any data to prove they weren’t learning. So my plan was to SHOW THEM! That may not have been the best idea, but it gave me the courage to start. I cried almost every night that first year – as I am sure many first year teachers do, but hopefully for not the same reasons I did. Luckily, every month when I had my meeting with the principal she was more pleased.

The first week of school, the teacher whose classroom I took over showed up to helped guide me. She was old and sweet. The other teachers bothered her all week to get the juice on how I was as a teacher. Thankfully she was kind and told them of my good work. 

Back to the students, one boy told his parents lies to the point where I had to have a sit down meeting with both parents and the principal. I brought in all of my data on the student, and the parents were shocked at his laziness with all his class work. At the end of the meeting they still wanted him moved from my classroom, and the principal later called them out on that. The principal soon learned that this situation was not on me but the parents, so she agreed to move him to a different classroom. He ended up having the same issues with his first grade teacher – but that’s not my story. Sometimes the principal seemed to like me, but other times I felt the exact opposite. I wasn’t sure who I could trust and who I needed to avoid in fear that they would rat me out for not knowing something.

These little irks that that principal found in me beat me down. It felt I was being beaten up, and when I was ready to get up I was slammed down again. Only I never let it keep me down. I kept getting up. 

Now let’s talk about my observations. Those were not so good. I was not passing or rising to the top. I was falling. I felt like a complete failure every time I opened up my teacher observation results. I cried and cried. My heart was in it, but maybe this job just wasn’t for me. Because if it was for me wouldn’t I be succeeding? Wouldn’t I be making it? 

There were a few people along the way who encouraged me. I had one friend in school, whom they also disliked because she wasn’t the norm to them either. I had one friend at another school who angelically gave me tons of kindergarten resources because she knew I wasn’t being treated fairly and she wanted to support me. I cried knowing I barely had anyone who was on my team, which is crazy because the entire kindergarten team consisted of 11 teachers. Sure my family, friends, and husband always had my back, but you also need support in the workplace. Everyone needs those people who will encourage you and build you up. Everyone also needs those people who will set you straight when you need it, but seeing that my only friend was also disliked, we were not getting that support. What’s worse, everyone on our team basically shunned us. I cannot tell you how many times I was laughed at, belittled, scowled at, and all because I was new and not their norm. They acted like I was supposed to be on their level, but they never gave me the stepping stones or supports to reach that level. To this day, they still have not. 

One day, towards the end of the year, I had had it. I wrote a letter and went to the principal. I told her how I didn’t feel supported and how I didn’t feel like that made me as successful as I should have felt. I did this because I didn’t want the same thing that happened to me to happen to another teacher. She told me I should not be babied – which was not what I was asking for, I was asking to be guided as a newcomer. She did, though, tell me how proud she was that I was sticking up for myself. She might not agree with me, but she did notice a change in me. 

At the end of the year, I was given a contract for the following year. I was elated, but nervous because I knew they still had their hesitations about me. My dream was to be a teacher. My dream IS to be a teacher. To guide the young minds and fill their hearts and souls with adventure and joy. Teaching them to read and write is just a small piece of the journey to me.

That year I left defeated, but strengthen to come back the next year and continue rising. I will not let the unbelievers bring me down forever. They may for a moment, but I am stronger than they believe and I will continue doing what I was called to do in each season. And in this season, it is teaching kindergarten. 

Ever met a person who looks serious all the time? Who does not talk to females unless necessary? Who speaks in such a direct manner that you can’t tell if they like you or not? That’s my husband. The only peep I ever heard from him was a chuckle stemming from something sarcastic that was said. 

Our first date was nothing crazy or elaborate, but in my thoughts I want to process all that I can manage and have fun doing it, so here it is.

June 24th, 2016 came, and I had no idea what to expect. I didn’t even know if it was actually a date. All I knew was that our best friends – who happened to be dating – wanted this to happen and I had nothing to lose. I actually texted him first days before, and he didn’t reply until days later. To which he asked me for coffee.

Flash back to a few weeks before our first date, I was planning on driving to Atlanta with a friend and my now husband, but had to miss due to my sister’s graduation. On the car ride, Kyle – my now husband – made some marriage joke about us to his friend. Well, my friend then told his girlfriend and since we are besties she ran with it and tried planting this seed in both our minds. 

A few days before our date, he texted me to begin getting to know me and offered to send me his FarmersOnly profile as a start, which I definitely asked for. I am still, in fact, waiting to see that profile. 

We met at a The Coffee House on Cherry Street. I was coming from my niece’s first birthday party. He was driving back to Kansas after visiting Atlanta. I remember exactly what I was wearing. I even kept the outfit for memories. My mom always talks about how she wished she kept some of her important outfits, and so I intend to do that. I wore a buffalo check tank top and blue jeans. It was the perfect birthday party/low key date outfit in my mind. When I arrived at the coffee shop, Kyle had already been there for about an hour working. I ordered my latte and sat down across from him. He closed his laptop. 

That’s when the interrogation began. Just kidding, but kind of not. I hadn’t been on many first dates, so I wasn’t sure what to expect. Heck I didn’t even know if he considered this a date or not. This was my first time having an actual conversation with this man, although I had known who he was for three years prior. He asked me lots of questions. I don’t even know what they were anymore, but I remember feeling like he was peering through my soul. Sounds crazy I know, but there was just something about his eyes. Something that told me he was truly listening and analyzing my every word. In the moment I was not sure what to think because I was just so surprised and frozen in time. Something told me he wasn’t taking this as easy breezy as I thought he would. Through all his seriousness I knew there was a gentle side to him. I knew there was something special about him that I would soon discover. At least that’s what I had hoped. 

At the end of the date, he told me straight up that he wanted to meet with me again. I was shocked. I did not expect him to be that upfront about it or to even want to go another date with me and be so sure about it. I agreed and we left. Two weeks later, we went on our second “date” and that’s when it all truly began. 

Depression – like many other emotions – comes in waves. Sometimes you feel like you are going to make it to shore, then a wave comes and throws you under. You saw it coming, but you didn’t think it would hit you so hard that you can’t even catch your breath.

You feel like you are drowning. Gasping for air at every chance you get to recover. In moments you’re choking on your own tears because the wave hit you so hard. 

And once you finally catch your breath, you see how far back the waves have taken you. It seems that you are always so close, but you just can’t seem to make it. The waves just keep pulling you back. 

Deeper. And deeper in the distance.

Back to what seems like the beginning. 

The shore seems so far away now. The more waves that come, the more you feel like you are falling into the current. The more it feels like you will never make it to shore. 

But the thing about waves is that eventually they rest. They eventually calm. 

You will eventually make it.

I have felt these waves far too many times, and continue to feel them. They don’t ever seem go away. Because waves have no measure of your time. They come expected or not. 

You can’t sit or wait through a wave and expect nothing to happen, you have to swim through them. You have to swim under them to get over them. The more you try to fight them and push them away the deeper they will sink you. Waves have no boundaries. Depression has no boundaries. Depression can drown you like the waves of the ocean, but only if you allow them. 

These waves of emotions will all come to a calm, but they won’t always stay calm. The waves are never easy. They are never light, but they do soften. They will come to a calm. Take in that calm. Just like you take in every breath and every scent of the ocean. Take in that calm and find your peace in the moments. Find your peace to get you through the waves. For the waves will keep coming, but your peace will guide you through. 

Some days I feel like climbing mountains, other days I feel like falling off those same mountains.

Some days I feel like living my best life, other days I feel like a failure.

Some days I feel like flying high, other days I feel like collapsing beneath me.

Some days I feel like singing, other days my irritation arises stronger than seems possible.

Some days everything in me wants to leap, other days everything in me feels numb and I crumble.

Some days my joy overtakes me, other days I can’t stop the tears from falling.

Some days are heavy.

And some days are light.

Some days seem like a burden. A burden that never lifts. A burden that never lightens.

People always say that everyday is a new day, but what if everyday is heavy? What if everyday is hard? Why would I want a new day? Everyday is a new day doesn’t sound very appealing then. I don’t know what everyday will bring. I don’t know if it will be heavy or light or hard or easy. Sure, I know I am loved and cared for. But most days it’s hard to feel loved when all you want to do is disappear. I try to look back and remind myself of the light days. The days when I do feel loved. The days when I do feel warm. Those are the days I try to remember, even when all that seems worth remembering is the moment. The moment of breath. The moment when the world seems easy and light. But those days are far and in between. Those are just some days.

A friend recently sent me this quote:

“The opposite of depression is expression.”

Expression – that’s exactly what this blog is for me. I spent the last nine or so months bawling because I didn’t have the words to express my emotions. I felt like I was drowning and I didn’t know what to do. Sometimes I hit a wall and nothing could knock it down. I couldn’t eat. I had trouble falling asleep. And no matter how long I slept I was still exhausted the next day. My go to was and is to take a nap to calm my emotions. This usually works, but it doesn’t help with my ability to fall asleep at night. So I would go to TJMaxx or Target, but that costs money, and when you don’t have all the money in the world that adds an extra piece of sadness that could have been avoided. So I tried to find an outlet. I began writing down my thoughts in my worst moments, but those thoughts became dark. They spoke death not life. I thought it was helping me. I would send those words to my husband so he could see a glimpse into my mind, even he didn’t realize the darkness he would soon read. The past few months this is what I did, and I didn’t really notice too much of a change. Sure it was nice to write down my thoughts, but when your thoughts can turn as dark as mine you don’t want to ever keep that close. Over the recent weeks I knew something needed to change. I recently bought a Peloton – a crazy purchase I know, but I soon found it to be one of the smartest purchases my husband and I made thus far. My body was moving again, and not just to walk the dog. But my mind still needed help, so I decided to blog. I needed an outlet. I loved writing in high school and college. I missed going to school and learning daily, so why not try it out. I needed something. I needed a place to write my thoughts in a cohesive manner. That’s what this is for me. It’s a place to share my heart and my soul. It’s where I come to express myself. To express my every being. I refuse to stay in a depressive state. So here I am writing these words and sharing my thoughts. Take them or leave them. This is simply for me.