Secrets

Glenn Beck once said something that has really stuck with me. Now, I can't find the quote. My husband had shared it with me. It was something that he had heard Glenn Beck say on his radio show. I don't have the exact words but it was something along the lines of this...

"Not having secrets is the one way that you can truly be free. If you are hiding something from the world, you are constantly living in a prison where you are wondering who knows and who will exploit you."

This post has been in my drafts for almost 2 years now. YES, 2 YEARS!!! This is not a regular post. It is not something you really share with the public. It has been something that I have debated writing for years. It is something I have been wanting to write but haven't been able to do it, then today, I read on a friend's blog, how she wrote this beautiful post about the same thing. I cried, my heart ached and I felt many emotions as I continued to read her post. First, it was something I especially needed to read today and second, I was so angry at myself for not posting my post about this same thing, 2 years ago. I really could have helped if she had only known my experience. In that moment, I knew I needed to write mine, get it out of my drafts and let out my secret. So... thank you, Karen, you are quite inspiring.

I have decided to be free and share my secret.

As many of you know, 3 years ago, on February 20, 2009, I had our 2nd child, Halle. Just 3 days later, on February 23, 2009, my beloved brother, Micheal, was killed in Iraq. Throughout the duration of this post, Micheal will be written as my brother, simply because that is exactly what he is, my brother. For those of you who don't know my family, he is married to my amazing sister, Amy, who is my best friend.

The 4 of us did a lot together. We had many a fun nights, Amy, Micheal, Josh and I. Micheal was Josh's best friend and many people confuse them for brothers. In fact, we've heard many times, "Did brothers marry sisters?" This makes me laugh. We were very close and have many fond memories together.

I can remember that I had Halle on Friday, I came home from the hospital on Sunday and we got the news about Micheal being killed on Monday. I can still remember where I was standing in my house when I found out and how I instantly knew I was going to throw up.

I suffered from some postpartum depression after I had Chloee but even in the hospital with Halle, I knew this one was stronger. After the news of Micheal, I fell apart. I have never had someone this close to me die before. I instantly called my OB and told him everything and told him that he needed to prescribe me something that would work NOW. There are not very many medicines that do that, most take 4 weeks to kick in. I knew I needed something to get me through the funeral and I had to be able to stay composed, Amy had asked me to take the photos of the funeral and the burial services.

I was put on a medication that did, in fact, work instantly. It didn't make me happy or sad, I was emotionless. I was in a numb state of living. I was in a fog but I was able to function. I was on the medicine for 30 days. The medication made me gain 45 lbs in 30 days. I am still fighting to get rid of that weight, it stays in your body for up to 2 years. I would gladly take it again, because it is the only reason I go through the month of March.

I was put on a new medicine to help get me back on track, only it didn't work. Nothing worked. I couldn't function, I couldn't get out of bed, I couldn't get myself to care about living. I had severe anxiety about everything and had constant anxiety attacks, which, if you've ever had one, you know how incredibly scary they are. I would start into hot and cold sweats, start to have sweat drip off my face, I'd pull my hair, my heart would beat out of control and a mild seizure would occur. These episodes started happening more regularly.

I knew something was off with me, I had no bond to my newborn baby and I hated my life. I would hide in the coat closet and cry, I would walk out of the house and decide I was going to run away and never come back. I couldn't live in this hell anymore. I couldn't do this "life" if you could call it that. I was at rock bottom, I was below rock bottom, the rocks were 6 feet above me.

I found that I didn't care about my children, my marriage, my life. I had a dear friend, Maren, who told me time and time again that it was depression but denial is the spouse of depression. They always come together. It is painful to look back at this time. It was the darkest time in my life. It was the scariest time of my life, it was horrifying.

I would look into the mirror and all I could see was this soul-less person staring aback at me. At this point, I was no longer living, I was merely just existing. I existed, period. I missed Micheal and I ached for Amy. The postpartum depression was amplified by 1,000 because of Micheal's death and the fact that they were only 3 days apart.

Josh would come home and take care of the kids after a long day of work, I know I hadn't and many times, didn't know how to take care of them, when I couldn't remotely care for myself. It only got worse, if Josh tried to talk to me about it, I bit his head off. I did things that I'm not proud of and I couldn't handle the crying of a new baby. I would call my friend, Cindy, and she would come over and take her away. One day, she came over and when I got Halle out of my hands, I threw a chair against the wall. I was in excruciating pain.

As time went on, it only got worse, the depression owned me, the anxiety was out of control and I felt alone. I was angry at The Lord. I wanted nothing to do with church and I was bitter. Before I got pregnant with Halle, I had this overwhelming feeling to have her, and it was a feeling of now, not in a month. It was a very special experience and I acted on that prompting and was having a baby nine months later. She came 2 weeks early and was 8 lbs 3 oz. I was bitter that I felt like I had to have another one and that she was supposed to come at that time. I knew The Lord knew that Micheal was going to die at the same time I was going to have Halle. It felt like some sick joke, like he wanted to watch me fail, ache and be sorrowful. These thoughts only made that time more dark and more despair filled my soul.

I was at a breaking point. I wanted my life to go back to normal, I wanted to be normal again and all I could think of was that I was normal before I had Halle. I blamed her for making me this way, I blamed her for doing this to me. I'm sure many of you will want to disown me as a friend after this and if so, please do, because I no longer want you as my friend. Only someone who can understand what depression really is, will understand this and KNOW that it was not me, it was an alternate being that owned me and that I was a slave to, because the real Kimberlee was in a comatose state.

I had decided that it could all be right again if she was gone, myself included. I can hardly write these words... I had filled up the tub and was ready to make the biggest mistake of my life when my friend, Maren, who was a divine servant of The Lord, called me and for some strange reason, I answered the phone. I was in what I call "the reclusive" stage. You don't answer phone calls, you don't answer the door, you don't even open your blinds. You don't care that people are trying to help you, you will do anything to stay hidden from the world. Countless times, friends showed up at my door, I never answered it, I would ignore them every time. I was in hibernation mode.

Something made me answer the phone that day, she knew something was wrong, I can't even remember the details about it, but I know she somehow got a hold of Josh and he came home while she kept me on the phone. I had broken down to a shell of the woman I once was. The Lord had to have been holding me in his arms that day because nothing was going to stop me from becoming "normal" again.

It felt like an out of body experience, almost like I was watching myself from above. I admitted that I needed help and conceded to go the the emergency room. We drove up to Logan, my mom watched my children, Chloee then almost 3 and Halle almost 2 months old. I was admitted, willfully but they still treated me like a 3rd class citizen. I don't remember a lot about that ER visit, just that after many hours, they decided that I had to be admitted to a neuropsychological hospital, yes, a mental institution. I can remember them taking everything away from me, including my clothes, strapping me to a gurney and ripping me away from my life. I can remember watching the tears roll down Josh's eyes, as they took me away from him and he stood there, completely helpless to me.

I was taken by ambulance to the University of Utah's Neuropsychiatric Institute, which is known as UNI. Josh talks about that day as the toughest day of his life, he went back to my mom's house and he said he fell apart, and how he felt like a part of him died that day.

Once I reached UNI, I was put in solitary confinement so that they could assess me. It was awful, I didn't even have any clothes and someone talked to me from a microphone, they were never in the room with me.

Soon, I was able to be on the floor where people who wouldn't hurt each other could go, it was level 3, I believe. I had a roommate. After a few days, they had to move her back a level because she would sit next to my bed and watch me sleep and sometimes try to either choke me or something, I can't remember exactly (the reason for not remembering is coming).

My mother kept my kids for a week while Josh stayed in Layton and had to go to work, he had NO time off. It was all used from when I had Halle and then again when Micheal died. The next week, Amy came and lived at my house. Her boys were on spring break and her mother in law kept them while she came up and stayed with my kids and slept over every night so that Josh could go to work. I could only have limited visits while I was in there.

My doctor had a meeting with Josh and I. The medicines weren't working and she finally discussed doing Electro Convulsive Therapy, known as ECT. It was a last resort but we met with the doctor who does ECT and everything felt really good about it for me. We started treatment the following day. They are only done in the morning, between 2-6 am. Josh would come down for every treatment I had, usually at 3 or 4 am and stay with me, then drive back to Layton to work. He did this for 2 weeks. After an ECT treatment, you sleep for about 6-8 hours. They would put me out, do the shock to my brain, then I would come out of the anesthesia and have the worst migraine possible. I'd be doped up on pain killers and after my first treatment, I threw up all over everyone.

ECT causes memory loss. It is something that is different for everyone. Some short term, some long term. Mine was both. Sometimes, I would wake up and not know who Josh was. Some things were gone for a while and some things, I still don't have back. I didn't know who some people where, I didn't know things about my life. I couldn't remember some childhood memories and some things that were 2 days ago, or what someone had told me 10 minutes prior. Now, this sounds really bad, I know, but ECT saved my life. It was a last resort but it literally SAVED me. I continued to do ECT even after I was released from UNI. I spent 2 long weeks in UNI. I came back to do ECT every week, then every other and then once a month until I was weaned off of it.

The memory problems got better the more spaced the ECT became. I still don't remember most of my life from when I had Halle to a few months after I got out of UNI. I can't remember having Halle. My memories are remade by other people's memories, their memories of that time, that have been told to me, which has made their memory, mine. It is hard, we can talk about things and I have no recollection of them, whatsoever. They are forever gone. I did ECT until January 2010. I was on many medications and I was working with a psychologist. Many doctors told me that I'd never be able to function or live without depression medication for the rest of my life. The magnitude of this depression could never be coped with, without drugs.

My psychologist felt different. He worked with me to get me off of my medication. I hated being dependent on my drugs. I understand 100% that lots of people have to be on them forever and I get that but he gave me a renewed sense of hope. We worked hard and in February 2010, I came down with the flu for 7 days. I clearly couldn't take my medicine for those days because I was throwing up the whole time.

I called my pharmacist and we talked about it. I was going through withdraws. SERIOUS withdraws. I was having hallucinations, my equilibrium was off, I was having hot, cold sweats, I was having insomnia and when I was sleeping, I was having night terrors. It was horrific. At this point, I was 10 days off of medicine and my pharmacist told me that the average withdraw time for that specific medicine was 21 days. I ended up going 28 days. I decided to stick it out, I was already half way through hell. It was bad and people had to stay with me.

I have been off of my medication for 2 years, something I was told would NEVER happen. It only happened because of family, friends and my desire to turn to my Savior for help. I finally found myself less bitter and I turned to The Lord. It was a process but I soon came to understand that we all experience different things to help bring us closer to our loving father in heaven.

I came to realize that I was supposed to have Halle, for she was such a healing power for my whole family, especially Amy. Those two have a bond that I have never seen before. It is like Amy is her mom, and she just came to Earth a different way. Those two spent countless days together after Micheal had died. I know Amy always felt Micheal so much closer when she was with Halle. Halle was supposed to come at that time, to heal Amy's broken heart, to feel the spirit of The Lord and to help her find peace.

I am glad that I listened to the spirit and had Halle when I did. I had to go through hell because of it but it made me so much of a better person and I have been able to help so many people with the same problem. I have opened up to complete strangers like at the dentist office or the park and one girl started doing ECT and she told me that it saved her life and her marriage. It's hard to put something so personal out there to strangers and it feels very vulnerable but I have to believe that The Lord lets us bless other people through our trials.

I have had some people be very mean to me about this, someone that I opened up to about it and she said some pretty hurtful things about me. Yes, I guess there will always be those people who will judge you and say mean, hurtful things but I know that I have opened up to so many about this experience and I know I have been able to help so many other women, so be it, if a few of them hate me and tell me I'm a bad person. Clearly, I don't want someone like that as a friend anyway and yes, it hurt when she said those things but I'm not going to stop trying to help others with the same thing.

I know that this post is atrociously long and there still is so much more I could write. I was also told not to have any more children because the postpartum depression would only get worse from the last time. Yet, I have had it witnessed to me that there is one more.

My husband is amazing, in every sense of the word, he is my rock, he is an incredibly patient, loving man. He could have said that he was out of here when all of this happened but he didn't. He NEVER once judged me, he never once loved me any less, he never once thought about leaving, he never once made me feel like I wasn't a good person and he never once made me feel like I was crazy. He came and visited me in UNI and I do remember how much we would cry together. I knew my best friend still loved me, despite what my mortal body and mind were going through.

It was without a doubt, the toughest year, I have ever had. It was without a doubt the darkest and scariest time in my life. Every day, I fight the depression that threatens to creep back into my life and it does a lot of times, it is a fight, every single day of my life...

But with the help of my husband, my sister, my mom, my family, dear friends who have been through the trenches with me and my forgiving, loving Father in Heaven and my savior, Jesus Christ, I can continue the fight. It is hard and some days I feel defeated and then I start over the next day and it's refreshing to remember that there is always tomorrow and that I will try harder tomorrow.