It's never not a struggle.

We've been doing a study at church on Psalm 73.  It has reminded me of a time when I was in a deep dark place.  Of being so depressed and angry and bitter and confused that I just wanted it all to go away.  I even tried to make it go away once.  The Lord had different plans.  In my mind I had done everything right, in the right order and the right way, but in my selfish mind I wasn't getting what I wanted.  The internal struggle took me to a dark place.  A place so dark that any form of light was so bright I had to turn my head; I was in the dark for a very long time.
The thing about depression for me is, it never goes away.  It just manifests differently.  For the most part I have been able to keep it at bay.  However, there are days and sometimes weeks that the dark makes itself known again.  The dark is a sneaky booger.  It creeps up from behind and veils me in its invisible darkness.  Thankfully, Josh has been with me for a very long time and knows what the invisible darkness looks like, in spite of its invisibility.
This last week or so has been one of those weeks.  It wasn't surprising that the darkness covered me this week.  Sleep has evaded me, Kyra Mae has been sick and the end of the semester is upon me.  My adrenaline was keeping me going and that is usually when the darkness strikes.  It's different now in it's manifestation then it was before babies.  I am easily frustrated with Josh and the girls, I do not want to be around anybody but I need to be around people, I need sleep but I tend to play the martyr role and stay up grumbling about not having any help even when I do.
One thing I notice when the darkness comes is that I have not been doing my Bible reading and journaling.  When I am not pushing into my Lord and my relationship with Him, I begin the slide down the proverbial slippery slope.  The awesome thing about knowing that fact is seeing God's grace in it all.  Looking back and realizing that in all these years of my struggles with depression I can look back and see God's grace.  He is truly sufficient, if I just remember to let Him be.

Passing it on.

Having children is a miracle in itself.  Just the amount of things that have to line up for a woman to get pregnant blows my mind.  Every single detail has to be perfect. Each time I've seen that word "PREGNANT" the moment has taken my breath away.  Then the flood of worry starts to overcome me.  What am I going to pass on to this child?
I don't do drugs. I don't smoke. I very rarely drink (obviously not at all during pregnancy/nursing).  I eat healthy.  I take my prenatal vitamins. I exercise. I don't eat deli-meat and I stop myself from eating cookie dough.  I do all the "right things".  It's not those things I worry about. 
I was diagnosed with severe clinical depression in college and struggled with it many years before and a few years after my diagnosis.  I was diagnosed with an eating disorder in college and struggled with it for almost 7 years total.  I was diagnosed with a mathmatical learning disability and some other little stuff in college.  Am I going to pass this on to my children? Are they going to have to suffer with depression that grabs a hold of them to the point they can't breathe? Are my children going to start counting calories in their head or try to survive on water, diet coke and raw vegetables or throw up the "normal" food? Are my children going to hate themselves so much that they will write what they hate on their bodies or try and harm themselves? Are my children going to feel like they have to get by on their personalities because they can't do fractions or percentages?  Are they going to feel stupid because their best friends are the "smart kids" and yet they can't keep up with them even though they share the label?
It pains me that there is a possibility that my children will struggle with these things.  The fact that I might pass on these horrible things to these innocent children who have no say so in it.  The memories of my feelings occasionally haunt me now.  I sometimes still go to that dark place and have to claw my way out of it because I refuse to let it pull me all the way in.  Will my children have to fight as hard as I did?  I do worry that these are things that will be passed on.