BioI'm a mom of 6, grandma to 2 and a wife of 16 yrs and counting. I have been to hell and back several times and have survived it each time thanks in large part to my husband. When I write, I do so from the heart and from personal experience.
Face of an Angel
Born in September of 1997, at 7 lbs and 5 oz, Crystal was a black-haired, blue-eyed perfection! She had sweet little cheeks, and at just a few days old, was already focusing on things around her, showing an interest in the world around her. She was also strong, both in her grip and in the ability to hold her head steady for a few seconds at a time. She learned to walk before she was 10 months old, and she was able to recite the alphabet, basic colors, shapes, and count to 20 by the time she was a year and a half old. At the age of two, she could tell you what was in a picture, no matter what you pointed at. She did have trouble with certain letter combination pronunciation, but honestly, what two year old didn't? To say that Crystal was the apple of my eye, my life, my whole world... that would be an understatement. She was my EVERYTHING! And in one selfish moment, one moment of cruelty, jealousy and for all I know, hatred, she was taken away from me. Her light was snuffed out, her life ripped away from her. She was declared legally braindead nine days before her third birthday. That was the day the old me, the happy and trusting me, died.
I saw a few different therapists throughout my life. First, for the childhood trauma that I suffered, and the nightmares it caused—with no positive results. The next was after my daughter was killed, and again, no results. I saw another counselor after my youngest two girls were removed from my custody, same results. Frustration had set in. I lost faith that I would ever find the help I truly needed. My depression was so bad that it debilitated me, left me unable to work, so I applied for disability. In the application process, I was asked to receive a mental health evaluation, which led me to search for yet another counselor. This one would prove to be my savior! He gave me the tools I needed to be capable of managing my depression on my own. Not only to manage it, but to recognize when it is setting in. So, I am going to pass this knowledge on to you, with the hopes that it helps you as well.
I was first diagnosed with depression in 1997, after the birth of my second child. Postpartum depression, they called it. And I was only diagnosed with that after attempting to step out into traffic. That was the first time my best friend saved my life.