Abby (the sufferer)

I apologize for the delay in not having another post. My goal is one entry a week, but when there are holidays, it could be two weeks.

Today I'm going to start introducing our family and whom we represent in our home. Whether it be the suffer, the caretaker, or our children, we all have a story to tell.

As the one who suffers (obviously I'm the one on the right) with the depression and the anxiety it is at times, a challenge to let others in.  However, when my depression became extreme I felt that my Heavenly Father wanted me to talk about what I'm going through and how I'm dealing with these debilitating diseases. It's taken 2 1/2 years to get to this point where I can share our story with the world. Yet, I digress. Let me give some background regarding me.

I was born to two parents who taught us to live righteously. When I was born I came home to three older brothers. Then 3 1/2 years later, my sister was born. We were raised as members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We grew up in a small farming town, where surprise, we lived on a farm. We had chickens, sheep, cows, pigs, you get the point. The town was so small, that if we did something in the morning, by the evening our parents knew about it.

Living in a small town, where everybody knows EVERYTHING, was not always fun. But, there are days now where I wish I could go back to those days of freedom and raise my children in a time when we were not constantly on alert for attacks against our great country.

I was blessed to live within walking distance of my paternal grandparents. I have wonderful memories of snapping peas on the patio with my grandma. Other memories of large family parties, and being surrounded by those I loved, and who loved me. 

My maternal grandparents lived in different states, so I didn't see them as much as my Bohman grandparents. I remember some of their visits, but other times, I don't remember a whole lot about my childhood. 

It sounds like I had a wonderful world growing up, right? Why should someone who had so much love and happiness suffer from depression and anxiety? I don't know. If you figure out the answers to those questions, I would love to know. 

I was not gorgeous, I didn't have a lot of talents and I didn't have a lot of close friends, friends yes, but not close ones. When I entered high school I became friends with a group of friends who accepted me for me. This group was the backbone of my teenage years.

It was in the fall of 1994  that I first entered into my journal, "I hate my life." One sentence, but so much pain in that sentence. I would have my good days and bad days, ups and downs, but never to the point of wanting to hurt myself or others. I kept my feelings to myself so I didn't upset my parents. I was the peacekeeper. I hated confrontation, therefore I hid my feelings.

After graduating high school, I moved to Cedar City, Utah to go to school at Southern Utah University. I met my husband and we were married 3 1/2 months later. He was put in my life when the Lord knew I needed him. Almost 3 years later we had our daughter, then 16 months later we had our son. The lights of my life. I had been put on bed rest for two months with our son and ended up having postpartum depression. I was able to pull myself out of that funk. 

Over the years, I would get into a funk and be able to pull myself out of it. Then in 2013, I lost it. I don't remember 2013 for the most part, but I do remember being hospitalized so I could get on some medication to help my moods and my anxiety. 

The last few years have been difficult on our family. We've had to bond together, and come closer as a family to stay a family. I will never be able to express in words the love I have for Ryan and the kids. I can say with certainty that, if it weren't for them, I doubt I'd still be here. They are amazing!