By Crystal Fulmer 
Eighteen years ago, after a miscarriage, my rollercoaster ride with anxiety and depression began.
I’ve gone on to both adopt and birth a total of seven children, one born sleeping.
If I sat with you and told you about my journey from beginning to end, you might be in awe by the time I finished.
Or maybe you would sit in judgment of me. I’m not sure. Perspective is everything, I suppose.
What I know is this: I have felt the deepest, darkest sadness and the most indescribable joy over the last two decades.
I’ve discovered the beauty and miracle of modern medication, therapy, faith, and community support.
Above all, I’ve learned I can’t compare myself to other moms.
I function differently and that’s okay.
So this is what a mom who struggles with anxiety and depression teaches her children:
It’s okay to struggle with your emotions.
It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to scream. It’s okay to be in a bad mood. It’s okay to be frustrated.
Apologies are important.
What’s NOT okay is to let those emotions boil over and hurt the ones you love. There are times my racing brain or my hopeless thoughts have caused me to do or say unintentional yet hurtful things to my kids. I’m not too proud to apologize. Sincerely and often.
You always have tools in your toolbox.
My children know about my supplements, my medication, my talk therapy, my calming candles, my essential oils, my faith, my daily exercise, and my journaling—all of it. I would be remiss to think they would escape all my struggles, so I want them to know they have options and ways to pursue healing.
Life is not meant be a suitcase you see how much stuff you can shove into. It’s meant to be lived freely, leisurely, and abundantly.
Anxiety and depression have taught me that full-time, full-capacity is for the birds.
It’s okay and necessary to have seasons where you do all the things—travel, sports, ministry, home-cooked meals, etc.
It’s equally okay and necessary to have seasons of nothingness—sleep, good books, junk food, and Netflix are all good gifts from a loving God.
Always, ALWAYS do everything you can to get up.
After the loss of my son, there were two separate instances I couldn’t get out of bed. Those times required immediate help—and I sought it.
It’s been more than 10 years since those times, and I get up every day now, even if it’s just to go over homeschool lessons with my kids, exercise, take a shower, read my Bible, or hang tight until my husband gets home.
But most days I discover so much more than that.
My kids are worth getting up for. They are worth my smiles, my hugs, and my encouragement. They are worth being pushed to do hard things.
And so am I.
By getting up, I’m showing them what bravery, victory, and a mother’s unconditional love look like.
So you see, a mother with anxiety and depression simply can’t do all the things. She has many limits.
But a mother with anxiety and depression has limitless lessons to teach her children.
Keep going. Keep getting up. You’re doing a WONDERFUL job.
by Brea Schmidt 
by Ann Hall 
by Her View From Home 
