I could always tell how a day would go with it's smell. The morning that smelt of roses, my sister Rosie, the light in my dark world was born. The day that had smelt like soured milk, my dad had lost his job. I felt sick to my stomach when this morning smelt like rusted pipe. I knew it was going to turn out very badly. The only other thing I know that smelt like this morning did was blood and the thought of getting hurt or having someone close to me get hurt made me want to hurl the content of my stomach into the toilet. My bed creaked when I stood up from it. I would miss that sound if it ever disappeared one day because its been there for as long I can remember. It might never disappear, on a second thought. My parents didn't even have enough money to pay the necessary bills not to think of fixing a little creak in my bed. My heart thudded heavily in my chest as I made my way around the house looking and calling for my mom and dad. I slid down a wall when I realized that I was alone. Again. The smell had some how gotten stronger and I had to crawl to the bathroom to throw the remains of my dinner up.\nRosie's cry that penetrated my foggy brain and jerked me out of my awful thoughts. It made me happy knowing I wasn't alone after all. I hadn't even bothered to check her crib thinking that my parents would have taken her with them to wherever it was they couldn't wait till I woke up to be at. I lifted her out of the crib and into my arms. Her smile made me cry. I prayed to whatever god was listening to keep this little one out of harms way for me. I prayed for that smile to never be wiped from her cute baby face. It was the weekend which meant no school. I took my bath with Rosie in her rocking chair positioned at the door which I had left open. I just didn't want anything happening to her while I was not looking so I had her where I could watch her even as I had my bath. I didn't close my eyes even though they hurt like hell because of the water running into them.\nRusted pipes, I wondered if she could perceive it too. I had already bathed and dressed her and was making her food when the phone started ringing. The churning of my stomach made me drop the sippy cup in my hand. I moved slowly towards the shrilling phone and lifted the receiver. \\"Kents residence.\\" I said. The questions were direct and straight to the point, the voice ladened with grief and sadness. I knew then that something had gone wrong. I was asked to wait in the house when I told whoever was at the other end that I was a thirteen year old with no driving license, no car, no money and a one year old baby girl. I waited and waited. I couldn't breathe, the air had become so dense with that rust smell that I even started to taste it in my mouth. I was already crying even before I heard the siren as a car drove into our drive way. I cradled my sister in my arms as I sat there, feeling sick to my toes. I thought I screamed when I saw the two uniformed officers at our door but I didn't. I just stared at them morosely with a baby in my hands. Something had happened to my parents, I could tell it. It had smelt like wet cardboard the day granny had the stroke that had paralyzed her, this was worse. When I didn't ask questions, Rosie and I were shuffled into the car with the repugnant smell and awful siren. Rosie cried all the way but nobody asked me to make her stop. All I got were pitiful glances. Nobody talked to me. When the car pulled to a stop, the female officer took Rosie from me amidst protests from us both, and the man took me to the most awful sight of my life. Fucking rusted pipes!\nMy parents car had been wrecked but I didn't throw up until the body bags were opened. I had to identify the lifeless body of my parents lying there like the carcass of h animals. I threw up until I had nothing left to throw up anymore and then I threw up some more. That was when my screaming started. I screamed until I was pulled away. The sight was so gory and nothing any child should see. They smelt of blood. That horrible smell of rust that wouldn't let me breathe were my parents' body lying on a bridge somewhere. I couldn't even ask what it had been they were rushing to. The lady officer kept repeating how sorry she was that I had to see that. My parents had no ID card on them and the telephone's number was the only one they could reach. There was really nobody else to do it since my parents were both the only child of their parents. But all that wasn't getting to me, the water under the bridge looked so blue and all I thought about was jumping into it. I would have, but my sisters cries jerked me back. She was crying and reaching for me. I don't know how but I ended up back in the car with Rosie in my arms. As I held her, I knew suicide wasn't the answer. I wasn't alone, I had this crying bundle of joy with me. It wasn't easy but I had to grow up at thirteen and become the mother she needed and the sister I was. Childcare system or not.\n\n

As someone who struggles with depression, the term one of those days has a whole different meaning to me. Today has been one of those days. It has been one of those days where I call it a win to have gotten out of bed. Where it was a Herculean effort to put one foot in front of the other and stay up and moving. When I wanted nothing more to lay down, pull a blanket up over my head, and not move for like a month. You can't do that in society. You definitely can't do that as a stay at home mom. Being a stay at home mom adds an element to depression I never knew before. On days when you can't even fathom taking care of the basic needs of yourself to keep functioning – you have to keep your kid(s) going. You managed to open your eyes – you deserve a medal. You sat up and considered getting out of bed. You deserve a parade to go with that medal. If you get up and out of bed, you get a party. If you get up and parent those days…you get it all. You won't care of course. All you want is to curl up, rock, maybe hum, under a blanket, listening to headphones, all alone. So you know, when you are feeling a little more up to it – medals, parades, and parties. Now add in a toddler who just wants to run, climb, dance, spin and play outside - then inside - outside - inside…you get the point. You get up and you manage to do all that - making sure your kid eats, dresses plays laughs and learns. You get all the accolades and celebrations in the land. Except here's the thing – you don't. I want to introduce you to the mind of a stay at home parent in the throes of depression and anxiety. There are days I wake up and every inch of me is screaming. Do you know what it's like to have a toddler dump all her blocks off the wagon, and use it for a skateboard? Exhausting. This kid never stops. Don't get me wrong, I'm lucky. I have a healthy, smart child with a love of life. It's awesome - and exhausting. Her mouth also never stops. “Mama Up. Mama shoes, out. In. Snack, please. Mama Doc. You ok?" You know what you want and aren't afraid to make it known. Mama doesn't want to watch Doc McStuffins for the 150th time - if Mama hears time for your checkup again, Mama is going to want to run into a wall. When you're fighting to just function, excessively cheerful kids shows DO NOT help. Outside. Yeah. When you are in the throes of depression, the last thing you generally like is nature. Let alone playing in a sandbox, and then blowing bubbles and let's not forget playing drag baby girl around the yard in her pool because she loves it and you love her, but you don't want to even be out here let alone running in a circle. No baby girl, Mama is feeding you lunch, but on a normal depression episode day she wouldn't be eating so please don't shove that cheese stick in her mouth, please don't no, no and now I am eating a cheese stick. Around this time, anxiety will show its ugly face. You will doubt everything you do, say, act. Are you being a bad mom, are you letting your mood affect your kid? Did you make sure they ate right and enough, as you have no desire to eat? Are you taking them out enough because you hate being out right now - or are you going out too much to compensate? Does she need quiet time right now, or do you? Did you play enough and teach enough and love enough and discipline enough....and...and...and... So it continues into the night. You will inevitably lay awake at night while anxiety reigns, making your mind constantly go from one worry to another, examining everything for what you did wrong. Once you finally go to sleep though, depression will take over and you will start the cycle again the next morning. It is rarely just one day. Depression episodes last a while, often with anxiety. Besties – isn't it sweet. So to other stay at home parents suffering from depression and anxiety you aren't imaging the suckiness we're stuck with. Your kid(s) are the best things in your life, but sometimes, you have to force the behavior whether or not that feeling is there. Take it easy on yourself. You love them, you would do anything for them and sometimes the disease that turns your entire life upside down wants to take that away from you. It won't. You have made it through this disease to have a life, a spouse and kids – which makes you damn strong. So keep opening your eyes every day and making it about that kid. It's important for them and you. There is NOTHING in your life before them that could have gotten you out of bed on a day like today. That is powerful. That is important. That is lifesaving. You are NOT alone. There are many others. Just know whether you get out of bed today, or just sit up – I am proud of you. The episode will eventually end. You won't have to pretend to have fun chasing your kids around and dancing. You will have fun. You will treasure it in a way that parents who don't suffer from depression will never understand. I do. So here is your medal. Whether you're ready for it or not.

2019 started less than a month ago, and you could see, all over social media, the normal promises to change by the next year, and cut people out of your life. But is this really necessary? It's one thing to look at a new year as a new opportunity to be a better person, and a new chapter for growth and development. That's a beautiful thing, and it's amazing. It's another thing though, to be referring to a new year as a chance to discard the memories, experiences, and relationships of the old year - as if they were all bad - in an attempt to draw a clean slate. I look at myself, for example. Half of 2018 was probably the worst six months of my life - but half of it was the best. I choose to focus on the good. In 2018, I graduated from high school, met a ton of people online, and even a few offline, and started getting out more - something I'd never have seen myself doing just a couple of years ago. 2018 me learned the importance of giving to people in ways that don't necessarily include finance, 2018 me bonded tightly with people I would have never thought I'd associate myself with, and 2018 me finally learned self love. 2018 me has found herself, and I wouldn't trade that for the world.