Stepmom Epiphanies

It is no surprise that after going through the first four stages of the 7 Stages of Grief (Shock, Denial, Anger, and Bargaining), many stepmoms can (and probably will at some point) fall into a depression.

My experience with depression during that year can be summed up in two words:

My depression was a vacuum that sucked out my life, my light, my energy, and at times, my soul. It felt endless.

I know that sounds dramatic, but for me, it doesn’t even begin to capture how deep that darkness became.

Before I finally hit rock bottom—and then somehow found the basement below it—the signs were there. I just didn’t fully see them yet.

For me, the signs of depression included:

• Physical: Headaches; increased appetite (and the pounds that followed); insomnia; sleeping too much; fatigue; aches and pains; ulcers; and hair loss—so much hair.
• Emotional: Feelings of emptiness, sadness, anxiety, guilt, insecurity, worthlessness, helplessness, hopelessness, pessimism, and restlessness.
• Cognitive: Trouble focusing and concentrating; difficulty remembering details; struggling to make decisions.
• Behavioral: Crying; avoiding others; withdrawing socially; irritability; and loss of interest in things I once loved—hobbies, being outdoors, running, anything.

These symptoms didn’t arrive all at once. They crept in slowly—here and there—until one day I no longer recognized myself in the mirror.

I had lost my spark.

The same spark my husband fell in love with.
The same spark I had learned to love about myself, especially after my divorce.

And you know what happens when you stop loving yourself?

It becomes harder—and sometimes impossible—to love the people around you, including your husband and your kids.

That was true for me.

At my worst, I dreaded when my biological kids came home because I didn’t have the energy for them the way I once did. And I dreaded when my stepkids came home because of the weight that followed—the emotions, the sadness, the adjustment pains, the conflicts over parenting styles, the lingering drama connected to blending families.

I hated being alone and wanted to be alone at the same time.
I was lonely and overwhelmed by people.
Restless, yet completely exhausted.

It was infuriating.

I think I finally understand those depression medication commercials from years ago when someone said, “Depression hurts.”

It hurts more than any physical pain I’ve ever experienced. Even the depression I went through after my divorce didn’t compare to this. The depression that came with blending families felt heavier, more confusing, and at times made no sense at all.

For the first time in my life, I felt completely out of control.

There was no part of my life untouched by blending families. So much of it felt dictated by circumstances, by ex-spouses, by hurting children, by situations I couldn’t fix. It no longer felt like my life.

And I hated that.

But there is hope.

The final two stages of grief—Testing and Acceptance—are where I slowly began to climb out of that abyss.

Take care, my friend.

An Important PSA:
No matter how dark things feel, there is no world that is better without you in it—even if it feels that way sometimes. If you find yourself in a darkness that isn’t lifting, especially if you are experiencing thoughts of self-harm or suicide, please seek help immediately.

It was incredibly hard for me to admit I needed help—pride and circumstance made it feel impossible—but getting help is the one thing I know, without question, that I did right as a mom, a stepmom, and a wife.

More resources can be found at https://988lifeline.org.

To be continued…