I Don't Know

One of the things I find the most frustrating about my depression is constantly have to answer the questions "What's wrong with you?" "Why are you so upset?" "Are you ok?" "Why are you crying?" Let me see. What IS wrong with me? Why AM I so upset? There is a lot of stress in my life right now, but the plain and simple truth is that I DON'T KNOW what is wrong with me. I DON'T KNOW why I am so upset. I am ok, but I am not good, but I do know there is no amount of advice you can give me to change that. Yes, I understand it sounds strange, but no I DO NOT know why I am crying. It reminds me of when my cousin was little and would get in trouble. When my aunt would be upset he would ask "Mommy happy?" "She would reply, "Nooooo mommy is sad." And he would say, "No mommy happy. Mommy happy" as though if he believed hard enough he could will her to being happy again. Even Chuck, who understands what depression the illness and not the mood is about, after seeing me down for so long, begins to say things like "Why aren't you happy, Honey?" Or "What's wrong baby? Cheer up. I love you. Doesn't that make you happy?" Well, of course I feel happy to be loved, but that doesn't mean I feel happy at that moment. I know he means well, and I know my friends are concerned about me. BELIEVE me if I knew why I was so sad, or what would make me happy I would be all over it. Just like my cousin with my upset aunt, no amount of someone else wishing happiness upon me will help me either. I am depressed clinically depressed. I mean I guess technically I DO know what's wrong with me. What's wrong is the chemicals in my brain are different than those of a "normal" person's brain; therefore, I have to take a medication to alter the chemicals in my brain in order to feel better. Because of this deficiency I am not able process stress and anxiety the way other people do. That does not make it easier to live with, nor does it make it easier for other people to watch me go through. But it is a road I have traveled before, and a road I am sure I will travel again. It is a road with a lot of peaks and valleys, and THAT is all I know.

Emmett Kelly (the sad clown)

I love Emmett Kelly.

I had a great, great, great aunt (my grandmother's aunt) who loved Emmett Kelly, and I, well, I adored my aunt. She was kind, and strong, and still living on her own in the city well into her 70's or 80's. When I graduated high school, my grandmother gave me the Emmett Kelly collectors doll I had loved to look at in my aunt's room. I later got an Emmett Kelly snow globe (I collect snow globs...weird I know) and wall art. My love of Emmett now seems some what foreboding to me. Maybe, I was drawn to him for more reasons than my affection to my aunt. Maybe, even back at the age of 7 or 8, I knew I would someday live as a sad clown too. These days it seems to be raining more often than not. I really don't want to be "one of those" people. You know, the kind my mother said "no on likes to be around negative people" about. When my depression and anxiety sets in, it usually plays out something like this:
I buck it, try to through it off. Keep myself too busy to think. I look for quick fixes, a new hair style/color, new tattoo, purse, clothes...distractions. That inevitably fails. So I move into stage 2. Generally, this is the discontented stage. I begin saying "I think I am depressed."  I begin to HATE everything in my life, my job, my house, my bills, my appearance, my over all life path. I look for something to change about my life. Again, FAIL. So I move into stage 3. This is the PISSED OFF STAGE. I now HATE my life and am ready to tell anyone who will listen. I am also ready to argue with, yell at, cry about anyone who I see as making me MORE miserable, even if it is just for that moment. Some times this stage begins to move in to rages, sometimes not. After this stage though I am generally at least a month into the deeper end of my depressive state, and between the bucking and the anger I am tired. Bringing on Stage 4, the exhausted crying. After that, it is usually a short trip into stage 5, where I become so warn out and warn down that I just give up and give in. I begin saying things like "I am having a really hard time right now." and a lot of "I don't care" "It doesn't matter." Oh and if you get and "I'm fine" that is a SURE sign I have just given up. This is where I am now, although just for fun this time I seem to be repeating stages 3-5 over and over. There is a certain peace that comes with stage 5. I have given in. I will readily admit there is a problem that I can not control. I am no longer beating my head off a brick wall trying to make myself be something I am not. The anger has simmered down, and I am no longer hysterical. I also am no longer seeing life with and excitement, joy, or optimism. Now, normally there is a step 6. In step 6 I pull myself together enough to engage again. work through things through therapy, and the support of friends. Or some life change happens and I begin to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Once there is a ray of light, I can bounce back pretty quickly, especially with the support of Chuck and time with the kids. This time is different though. While I am continuing to keep pluggin' along, the light doesn't seem to be coming. Maybe it is because, Chuck is also struggling and is going through a med change so we have had a hard time connecting. Maybe it's because there is just SO much going on that I can't keep up. Maybe this is just a really bad...I don't know what you call it depressive episode? Maybe the emotions are just THAT deep this time that it is taking longer for me to resurface. But I am beginning to worry. I wonder how long I can keep going this way.

Couple acticles I found interesting

mental illness or personality traits

never good enough

I thought both these articles were good to share both for the mentally ill partner and for those in love with someone ill.

Ok Anger Just You & Me

This is the article from my last blog. Lets see how this goes.

 

What Is Anger Trying To Tell You About Your Life?

By Gabrielle Gawne-Kelnar
 (LOVE the Pic)
Anger. It’s got a pretty bad reputation. And we’re often told what to do with it: be careful with it. Suppress it. Vent it. Override it. It’s like anger’s some kind of volatile, toxic force to be harnessed or defused.
But maybe there’s another way of looking at it altogether.
Maybe you can actually learn from anger. Listen to it. See what it has to tell you. Get curious about it.
The sticker in the photo (above), in a cleverly vandalised train carriage I travelled in recently, has another suggestion for how to respond to anger:

“If anger is present
rove to another age”

So let’s take another look at anger for a moment.

When was the last time you felt angry? Well last night Seething. Really hot and bothered. Maybe you were even having those pretend conversations in your mind with the other person (your “enemy” for that moment), setting them straight with devastating wit or eloquence.
Remember that? Very Clearly
And now, instead of being drawn down into the detail of whatever lit your fury at the time, just try sort of stepping back for a second. See what happens if you ask yourself something like:

• What’s this anger trying to tell me? That I am completely overwhelmed and exhausted by this situation? And I am scared.
• Or what’s missing in this picture for me? A sense of feeling important, appreciated. A sense that my needs and feelings are AS important as the rest of my family, and a sense of safety. I think the 2 go hand in hand for me.
• What would resolve this for me – and why? To hear some supportive loving words, because I am working very hard to make sure EVERYONE else is making this transition as smoothly as possible, but no one sees that.
• What do I actually need right now? Love and support. A place to feel safe. No angry words.
• What’s this really about for me? For me it is often about not feeling validated, important, or seen. I really want Chuck to just see how hard I am trying and how much I am struggling right now.

And, as the sticker suggests, maybe another good query to ask is:
How old am I right now? What age do I feel inside?
For maybe your anger isn’t just about this one isolated event. Maybe it relates back to a specific incident, or a whole string of them, that you previously experienced. Or a pattern of some kind that started decades ago. Or maybe it’s simply exposing or tapping-into the vulnerability or hurt or lack of control you may have felt when you were young.
So what age are you in the heat of the moment? Hummmm...Last night I would have to say I did well and stayed in my 30's. Walking away and or tell Chuck to leave me alone rather than throwing a fit. Earlier this week I was clearly a 5 year old throwing a temper tantrum.
And what psychological or emotional age might put you in the best position to start resolving this problem? Would you be older? Younger? Younger Maybe it’s possible to consciously “rove to another age” and draw on things like your adult negotiating skills, your experience of self-soothing, and your fully-grown sense of agency and personal power. Or maybe you want to invite a younger sense of play. I need to have an inter sense of self importance and self love to draw from in moments when I feel others are paying me lip service. I will never be heard if I am screaming at the top of my lungs the way I will be heard if I am calm and patient. I need to feel like I am safe from angry, hurtful words, but I must also then stop using them myself. (easier said then done)
Of course, it can be a big ask to do any of this stuff in the heat of the moment. So it can also be worth coming back to that moment again later. To do some investigating after the fact. To practice.
So that next time anger’s upon you, you’ll have a better chance of really choosing your response – a response that brings you closer to resolving what hurt you in the first place – rather than just being captive to a knee-jerk reaction that often just keeps the damage going.
And maybe that’s another vital lesson which anger can remind us of – that we have choice. Right there, when all your buttons are being pushed, is exactly the time that something you really value is usually centre stage. So, in a way, anger is like a signpost, pointing directly to the moments, the values, that matter most to you. A signpost reminding you of your choices.
And, if you can learn to really see anger like that, with all its invitations and lessons, it’s actually a pretty amazing thing – at any age Pretty amazing way to look at it. In order to view anger in this way, I think you must first have a greater amount of mindfulness of emotion over all then what most people have. You must be able to KNOW your buttons are being pushed and begin to separate yourself from the emotion of the moment. Perhaps that is more possible the farther away from the angry moment you get, but i think most people automatically switch in to "old brain" or "fight or flight mode" when their values or safety is threatened. So how does one cope with that? How does one fight through that old brain thought pattern in order to start a new pattern? THAT is what I need to find now. Plus, everyone feels anger. Like I said I feel it is more what you DO with that anger that makes a difference in your life. So what is my release? How do I not let that angry build inside me?

Ok below are the texts I later sent to Chuck explaining the way I was truly feeling without the hurt and anger:
 I am not trying to fight here honestly
That is the last thing I want, but there is stuff going on with u that u can't see clearly right now
I am worried
U r not urself and maybe its the meds I don't know but
Remind me of an injured animal who is scared and lashing out trying to protect itself
I don't know how to keep myself together
It reminds me of the last time I ask u to go to your sister's and I am really scared
Really scared

So that was the truth. The truth is Chuck and I have been through A LOT and we have not always handled it well. Some times the Adderall makes him more aggressive, and some times my feelings get hurt by his straight forward nature. Sometimes his feelings get hurt by my sarcasm, and this has lead to some pretty explosive fights. And because I have been emotionally abused in the past, that is always where my mind goes. I am always fighting to make my importance known, and so is he, which makes us less visible to each other. Each of us willing to push just a little harder to get the other to notice, eventually someone pushes too hard. Each time that happens we ware away a little more trust, making the breaking point that much closer with each fight, and making it that much harder to back down, back up, and repair with each fight. So I guess the "sign" my anger was pointing to was self value and how I need to find some before I can expect to have value to others. I'm sorry Chuck. I hear you Honey.

AHHHHHHHHHHH I AM ANGRY

I realized yesterday that much of my life, and mood lately has been based on anger. As has much of Chucks. Not even angry with each other, though there has been some of that, but anger at his ex, anger at the situation, and anger at the "unfairness" of life. Yesterday I sent 16 text messages in a 10 minute time spand to my BFF. All of them in tirade form. Here are a few snippits (please keep in mind, especially if you are Chuck that I was venting to a friend)

My comments About Chuck:

 Omg! Omg! Omg! They took chuck off his meds and I am ready to kill him! My dog 
hit her head and there is blood on it

We ran out of gas this morning on the way to work. Then he was late picking me 
up and I am STILL not sure y he had to drive me in the 1st place

 I walk in the house all 3 of them talking at once and I ask chuck why the front 
door is unlocked and he says "here honey come in here"

So I go in the kitchen and he says " let me help u out. Here ya go" and hands me a frying pan

 I think he was joking but I nearly kicked his ass

My comments about Chuck's ex:

I am so fucking sick of thinking about this woman

So fucking sick of hearing about her

So fucking sick of debating what's wrong w/ her

Where is she? What is she doing? Is she high?

What did she do to the kids?
 
Since chuck and I met off and on over and over
 
Well now girly is safe so who fucking cares what she does? Where she is? Y does 
this still effect MY day to day?
 
 
While I am not the kinda girl who is afraid to throw the occasional f bomb,
I would not consider myself the kinda gal who curses like a sailor. Yet
 I am finding that word entering my vocabulary more and more. No other 
word seems to allow me to express exactly HOW agitated I am, truly.
Between the Adderall, the actual 
stress of the situation, and his PTSD Chuck is...well...last night I 
compared him to an injured animal that has been backed into a corner. He
 is defensive, and scared all the time. It makes it hard to talk to him 
reason with him, and knowing he is already feeling upset, I don't want 
to then dump all my angry feelings on top of his. He is switching to 
Ritalin today, and we are hoping that helps lessen the aggression and 
agitation he is experiencing, as well as, bring down his overall anxiety level. We have seen a difference as he has tapered hid dose down.

Now I believe that there is more 
than one type of anger. There is the type that pushes you, moves you to 
do more, make changes, move forward, grow. It is warranted, it is 
legitimate. It motivates you make the world, your world better. It 
empowers you. Then there is the type of anger that holds you down, 
weighs on you, and keeps you stuck in a continuing downward spiral. This may start as legitimate, but then take on a life of its own. This anger is locked inside you burning, eating away at you. So the question becomes what will you do with your anger? This
 is what I struggle with the most. I am so convinced from my past 
experiences that I have no voice, that no one care, and that my feelings
 don't matter that I don't know what to do with intense feelings when I 
have them. That in and of itself makes me angry and I begin to fester, 
until my mind and body can no longer subdue it and I explode, but then I
 just feel ashamed, out of control, and crazy. And on top of that 
whomever I am angry with, will never hear me when I am screaming and out
 of control, making whatever legitimate hurt they may have caused 
secondary to my current actions, which in turn (at least in my slightly 
maladjusted thought process) re-enforces to me that my feelings are 
unheard, illegitimate. Now I am stuck. While, in the beginning I may 
have been trying to use the anger to move myself forward, I have now 
made it into a my own downfall. 
Today I found this blog/ article on
 PsychCentral, complete with a link to a page of questions to help 
change the way you look at anger in your life.

Therapist-within learning from anger

My Life with an OCD Man

After talking to a close friend about her current relationship, and my past marriage I decided to back up today and take a look at my former life.

Ok so basically there were 3 events that lead to the end of my marriage, though as you know it was not a terribly stable marriage to start with. I don't know if you knew my ex, David, had some OCD behaviors. Door locking, turning the alarm off and on a certain number of times, and obsessive worrying. In September that year we had just moved to a new house in July, our daughter was about 18 months old, and a former co-work of his called about an opening at the company he had moved to, but it was in TX. I had some high school friends in TX, cost of living was slightly lower than where we were. Seemed like a possibility. But then they decided NOT to fill the TX spot, but to open a spot in FL. I do some internet research. FL was MORE expensive than where we lived, we know NO one there, and the new company is not willing to help us go down and check out the city or houses unless David signs a contract. I am saying....all not good signs. But David, at this point has it locked in his head that we are moving, and it is our shot at a better life. So we pay for everything, flights, rental car, food, they do kick in for a hotel but that's it, and we go to FL to look around. We spend about 6 hours a day for 3 days in a rented minivan with a 18 month old looking at houses we can not afford. FINALLY David gives in and we go home. About a week later he comes to me all upset and apologetic. He explains that due to the trip we are now overdrawn by over $300, there is only $20 space left on the credit card and we are out of milk and diapers. Like ooops I screwed up, here it is fix it!

This was not an unusual thing in our house. He had become obsessed with cars, computers, trips whatever seemed like it would make him happy, right then. He would work me, talk to me, show me how it would work, why it was so good, how we could make it fit into our budget, until I would give up and give in. I would wear down bit, by bit. (I should have been stronger)

That was Sept. In November we were booked to fly to his mother's (also in Florida, a state I have never really liked BTW) for Thanksgiving. Like 2 days before we are supposed to leave our daughter (again like under 2 years old) spikes a high fever. Of course, David doesn't want to take time off work to help because he is taking time off for us to go away. I take her to the doctor. They prick her finger and test her and say her white blood cell count is 2X the normal level. She has an infection. So, the next day I have to take her and hold her for blood tests, a cath for a urine test, AND ex-rays. Anyone, who knows me knows 1- that child is my everything and 2- I don't do well with blood and medical tests.The day of the trip is also our follow up at her doctor. We pack up as a just in case, and wait to see what the doctors say. The doctors tell us that her xrays show she has viral pneumonia, that they can not tell us if it is safe to take her on a plane or not, but that they would strongly advise that we put her on antibiotics first. David locked onto getting on that plane, decides we don't have time. As we getting the car and he begins to drive we are supposed to be talking about if we should even still go. I of course, feel like why take the chance, he again has it locked in his head that we ARE going. Instead of discussing it with me, once we are all buckled in he drives to long-term parking at the airport and parks. It is a holiday weekend so there are attendants there to help people and they begin to unload our car. Hide sight being 20/20, I should have left him at that airport and taken my daughter to get her medicines. But I didn't I was stunned by what was happening and while I was furious I got on the plane. I am not sure I will ever really forgive him for that. That is when it became obvious to me that his OCD was no longer affecting just him, or just us as a couple.

The last straw was over Christmas and New Year. David's family being Jewish, my family had always gotten to do Christmas with us. Well this year, his mother decided that wasn't fair and since she had time off work anyway, that she AND her friend from Florida were coming up for Christmas too. I was NOT happy about this arrangement, especially since it had been such a trying Thanksgiving, but we decide that after the holiday our daughter and I will go back home with my family for the week between Christmas and New Year, giving us some time with just my family. Then David will meet us near the half way point New Years Eve and we can all have New Years together. The next day David, our daughter and I would go back to our house and my parents back to theirs. All planned, hotel booked, New Years Eve day David called me. He is in a panic because he has forgotten to make arrangements for the dogs. Of course all the kennels are full, it's New Years after all. I talk to my family we decide we are not going to pay for a hotel for the 4 of us, if David isn't meeting us we will cancel the trip. I give David an earful about how I was counting on this and it was MY family holiday. So he says no, no I'll figure it out. He calls an hour later. He has decided to lock the dogs in a bathroom and clean up their mess later. I, of course, say no way to this and that this is cruel to even do to them. He invites our friend over to have her let them out. The Chow mix bites her. David freaks out, becomes convinced our dog will eat our friends and this won't work. He is also convinced that she is never going to speak to us again. We have an outdoor run. I suggest putting them in it over night with a tarp for shelter on one side. Meanwhile, I say "we are getting ready to leave are you SURE you are coming?" He says he is. An 1 1/2 hours into our trip he calls again. It is storming and David has always had an irrational fear of storms. Of course this storm means that our wooded lot (containing trees that are AT LEAST 30-50 years old) is going to come crashing down on our dogs or the house killing them all. He is not coming. Later that night he decides there is no use sitting home alone on New Years and goes drinking at his bosses. My daughter, my parents and I spend the night in a hotel room for no good reason. We are all in bed by 10. David and I split up by the end of February.

That was 4 years ago now, and it has been a long time since I have told those stories, but even after all this time, after he and I have both moved on, I feel all the anxiety that working around his fears and locked on to ideas caused me. I feel how hurt and angry I was holding my sick little girl on the plane ride to his mothers. I feel how guilty I felt for not being stronger, for not saying "no this isn't right" and sticking by that. I guess those wounds heeled over, but the scars are still evident.

As a side note, David was under going treatment during part of our marriage and was doing really well. After the birth of our daughter, he decided he was doing SO well that he no longer needed meds OR therapy. He hung in there for awhile, but has since begun back sliding and having such high level anxiety attacks that he passed out at work, had to have his heart tested, and was unable to function normal. He is back on the meds, exercising, has lost 35 pounds, and is healthy mentally and physically again. I am proud of him. Proving once again, that mental illness is not something that can be controled by simply ignoring it or trying to will it away.

The Fight

I woke up this morning feeling like I hardly slept at all, though I know I did. Maybe it is the depression maybe it was all the anti-anxiety meds I took yesterday. Whatever it is, it is becoming a regular occurrence. I walk around like everything around me is just happening, like I'm not an actual participant in my own life, more an observer, and an observer who is watching through a fog none the less.

After about 30 minutes and a cup of coffee I begin to become aware of my body, and how it aches. It feels like I have whiplash, but I know there's been no accident. So I begin to retrace the last few days, because this is more than just my normal sore back. It is hard to move. I think about the rage I was in Friday night. I see myself hurling things across the room, pillows, my purse, whatever. I feel myself fighting Chuck as he tried to restrain me some. I wonder how out of control I truly was. I see bruises on my arms that I can't explain and I wonder if those came from me hitting things that night too. I see the scratches on my arms and I remember the day before,  fighting myself. I remember being bent over in the bathroom crying so hard. Every muscle tense and fighting the emotion. I feel my muscles remembering that tension. I remember my head throbbing once I calmed down. The truth is that I was so worked up through a lot of it that I am sure there is a lot I don't remember too. That scares me. What did I do? What did I say? Why can't I control myself more?

Even after all that exploded out of me, I can still feel it bubbling just under the surface. Like a controlled burn. Today as I was frustrated with Chuck over being late to get my daughter from her dad. I had to take more anxiety medicine, and really breath deep as the feelings of anger and rage began to rumble below the surface. I don't want to be a screaming maniac any more. I feel exhausted, guilty,  and small after each time I loss control. Ironically, I began having rages because I didn't feel important or heard. Now each time I have one I feel smaller and less like someone worth listening too.

Uhg I look at myself, my body, how upset Chuck was, and I feel stupid! I have made nothing better for anyone, and now I hurt physically as well as emotionally. I feel beat up in so many ways and it kills me to know I did it to myself. Why do I do this? You would think after 14 years of playing this game with myself I would have figured out a better way to deal with it. Yet it seems every time I start to spiral down I eventually hit the point of no return,  and even if I see it coming. Even if I am aware, and on my meds, and desperately trying to grab hold of something to stop myself from continuing down, I can't stop it. I end up scream, throwing  things and generally acting like the "crazy" person that I so desperately DON'T want to be.

The Upside of Depression

The upside of my depression, is that I begin to just not care so much. So things that may have at one time bothered or upset me just kinda hit me and roll. It makes me a little less likely to get worked up about...well, whatever. It is that kind of a awwww hell what does it matter anyway. Maybe that's the drugs, or a combination. Eitherway, in a strange way there is a certain amount of relief in surrendering to whatever life hands me instead of fighting for something more. I wounder if I fight too hard, fight too much? Should I just give in an let life happen? Would it make life easier? Happier? Would I smile more or just feel more defeated? (Sigh) I wish I had more answers.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1 annnnnnnd Melt Down

I left work feel pretty depleted. I start the car and before I reach the stop sign at the end of the road I have started to cry. I can't seem to stop myself. I drive home the back way in order to avoid the traffic in town. It is slightly longer but I am in no hurry to get back to the house. Yesterday, Chuck had a bad day with his daughter and was not handling it well. I had been fighting another migraine most of the day and was struggling to keep my head together. It all came to a head after his daughter was in bed. (My daughter is thankfully visiting her father.) I flew into a rage. I am ashamed, hurt, and angry and having trouble wanting to face going home. The more I drive the harder I cry. I get to the intersection of my road, I turn away from our house. I search for my Swiss Army knife in my purse. Drive the other way. I feel myself becoming hysterical. I begin to tell myself "it's ok". After a short time I am crying and repeating that phrase over and over out loud now. "It's ok. It's ok.  It's ok..."  I convince myself to turn around. I feel a sense of panic knowing I have nowhere else to go. I put the blade of my knife on my arm. I feel it burn as I pull it across my arm. I don't really cause any more damage than a scratch. I keep crying, and head home. I pull in the driveway, still crying. All at once I stop crying. I just sit there in the car staring first at the yard, then the house, then the yard, and back to the house. Snippets of last night play through my head, along with mounting worries about having to call the landlord about the rent, the tree that fell from our property on the neighbor's garage, and the leaking roof. I begin to cry again. I look at the house again. I make myself get out of the car and walk slowly toward the house. I walk into kitchen and freeze. I don't know what to do. I hear Chuck and his little girl in the next room. I stand there. Eventually, I walk straight through, up the stairs, and into the bathroom. Stopping only briefly to take my anxiety meds. Sitting on the side of the tub I become hysterical again. My head on my knees, the more I try to control it the harder I cry. Chuck comes in asks what's going on? What the hell is wrong with me? I don't answer and cry harder. He starts to ask if I can watch his daughter for awhile. I just continue to cry. I have no idea how long it goes on like this. All I know is my head is beginning to ache and Chuck is getting twitcher by the second. Saying he needs to get out of here for awhile. I come down stairs and sit with his daughter. Chuck hands me a beer. I still have tears streaming down from time to time. I can't control it. Chuck leaves and I sit on the floor while his girl talks to me. She is sweet and tells me how its ok to cry some times. We talk about numbers and toys. Chuck comes back home and tells me to go lay down. I don't argue and just head to bed. I am woken up at dinner time and Chuck gives me more meds. So here I sit sedated, but no longer crying or shaking. I am ashamed. Ashamed of the raging fit I had, ashamed of needing all these meds, ashamed to have hurt myself, and ashamed I have lost control of my emotions. I hate that I don't know if I will be ok tomorrow or not.

Past in the Present

http://jajptsd.tripod.com/

PTSD- From Web MD

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder

Post-traumatic stress disorder(PTSD), once called shell shock or battle fatigue syndrome, is a serious condition that can develop after a person has experienced or witnessed a traumatic or terrifying event in which serious physical harm occurred or was threatened. PTSD is a lasting consequence of traumatic ordeals that cause intense fear, helplessness, or horror, such as a sexual or physical assault, the unexpected death of a loved one, an accident, war, or natural disaster. Families of victims can also develop post-traumatic stress disorder, as can emergency personnel and rescue workers.

Most people who experience a traumatic event will have reactions that may include shock, anger, nervousness, fear, and even guilt. These reactions are common; and for most people, they go away over time. For a person with PTSD, however, these feelings continue and even increase, becoming so strong that they keep the person from living a normal life. People with PTSD have symptoms for longer than one month and cannot function as well as before the event occurred.

Recommended Related to Anxiety Panic

Understanding Generalized Anxiety Disorder -- The Basics

Normal life includes some anxiety and fear. In a stressful situation, your brain triggers a flood of chemicals into your bloodstream. Your heart beats faster; your breath becomes shallow and rapid; your muscles tense; your mind goes on full alert. It's all part of your inborn reaction to a threat: You're ready to flee or fight. Sometimes anxiety and fear linger on and on. The feelings can be overwhelming. When they interfere with normal activities, there's a problem. Doctors call this kind of problem...

Read the Understanding Generalized Anxiety Disorder -- The Basics article > >

What Are the Symptoms of PTSD?

Symptoms of PTSD most often begin within three months of the event. In some cases, however, they do not begin until years later. The severity and duration of the illness vary. Some people recover within six months, while others suffer much longer.

Symptoms of PTSD often are grouped into three main categories, including:

• Re-living: People with PTSD repeatedly re-live the ordeal through thoughts and memories of the trauma. These may include flashbacks, hallucinations, and nightmares. They also may feel great distress when certain things remind them of the trauma, such as the anniversary date of the event.
• Avoiding: The person may avoid people, places, thoughts, or situations that may remind him or her of the trauma. This can lead to feelings of detachment and isolation from family and friends, as well as a loss of interest in activities that the person once enjoyed.
• Increased arousal: These include excessive emotions; problems relating to others, including feeling or showing affection; difficulty falling or staying asleep; irritability; outbursts of anger; difficulty concentrating; and being "jumpy" or easily startled. The person may also suffer physical symptoms, such as increased blood pressure and heart rate, rapid breathing, muscle tension, nausea, and diarrhea.

Young children with PTSD may suffer from delayed development in areas such as toilet training, motor skills, and language.

How Common Is PTSD?

About 3.6% of adult Americans -- about 5.2 million people -- suffer from PTSD during the course of a year, and an estimated 7.8 million Americans will experience PTSD at some point in their lives. PTSD can develop at any age, including childhood. Women are more likely to develop PTSD than are men. This may be due to the fact that women are more likely to be victims of domestic violence, abuse, and rape.

Past In Present-Feist

It was not until recently that the general population found out what PTSD is about. Brought to light by the recent Golf Wars and the events of 9/11. There has been an awareness campaign for those affected by the 9/11 tragedies, as well as, the large number of military personnel now dealing with the aftermath of what they have seen while at war. However, what I don't think a lot of people know is that ANY type of major trauma can cause this same disorder to develop, and of course "major trauma" is more defined by the victim and their reaction then details of the event itself. Thereby making PTSD much like depression in that it is easily over looked by those around you. A person who has suffered at the hands of an abusive partner can develop PTSD that is seen by friends and family simply as an inability to move on. "I don't know why she can't just get over it." I have head people say. The truth, as seen in the definition above from WebMD, abuse as an adult or a child, rape, molestation, traumatic loss of a loved one, or any other trauma or shock can cause symptoms of PTSD to appear.

After having an emotionally abusive boyfrined as a teenager, I had some residual fears, often nightmares, and anxiety issues. It wasn't until I was in college that the pieces all started to fit together. I began having full fledged panic attacks, smoking, acting in self distinctive ways, and slipping into a depression that kept me from getting up some mornings, making it hard to continue with classes. I eventually ended up in an ER and then a crisis center. Soon after I left school for the semester, and began counseling, taking Prozac, Klonopin, and something else, but frankly that time period is still slightly blurry for me. My counselor diagnosed me with PTSD from my abuse. Along with the PTSD came a diagnosis of clinical depression, and an anxiety disorder. Day to functioning became difficult. The semester I did return to school I ended up taking incomplete in every class. I was reckless, stopped eating, I stopped using reason and started going strictly on impulse. I am thankful I had a good therapist at the time. Through weekly sessions, teaching of relaxation techniques, some art therapy, and working on changing how I saw and reacted to the world around me, I began to be able to function on a higher level. While I still occasionally have the dreams (especially when I feel like someone else is controlling my life) I still fight the desire to fight or run away when ever threatened, and I still deal with anxiety and depression, I have been able to put much or the PTSD behind me.

I see it in Chuck though. In less than a 10 year time span he has lost both parents, a child,been divorced, watched his little girl move out of his house and to a state to far away for him to visit her regularly, has had people lie to him, manipulate him, and use his children against him in ways I find incomprehensible. I have watched him withdrawal from me, from his children, and what little family he has left. I have felt him cling to me and our family so tightly that I thought it would be more than we could take. I have seen him depressed and on Xanax, hands shaking. I have seen him not be able to move forward from this trauma. I have watched and listened as he talked about feeling weak, or helpless. I hear the anger in his voice, and the hopelessness. It saddens me, and it makes it hard to reach him, talk to him in a reasonable way. I realize now the frustration my friends and family felt in dealing with me those years when I was unreachable. I want to help him. Show him there IS hope. Show him this time he will NOT be left behind to fend for himself dealing with a mess he did not create. No one is going to take his baby girl again. We are solid. We are a family. What he is feeling, and fearing is from the past not the present. But I can not reach him until he returns to the present. So I will wait her for him.

I Need to Cry, But I Can't

Illustration by James Collins

Today is a crying for no reason day, or more accurately a crying for EVERY reason day. I realized today that while I have teared up several times recently. It has been awhile since I have had "a good cry". Which means what I have been doing is burying my emotions, and/or keeping myself distracted enough to keep myself numb. Either way, it is not good. I am defiantly depressed. I seem to be finding very little happiness these days. My anxiety is up to the highest it has been in a long while. My concentration level is GONE! I sometimes find myself talking and honestly have NO idea what I am saying. No recollection of what is coming out of my mouth, or what the thought process was that got me there. I am increasingly disappearing into my own head at home and at work. Tuning out Chuck and the girls as though they are not even talking to me. Forgetting to do basic things like walk the dog before bed, feed myself. Today Chuck ask if it was foggy this morning on the way to the bus stop, and I remembered fog, but could not answer for sure if that was today's drive to the bus, or Monday's. I am mostly going through the motions now, and one day blurs into the next.

Yesterday I woke up hurting. Sore from my throat to my back. Head pounding, feeling like I hadn't had a good night sleep in a week. I thought uh oh, fall allergy season has begun. I spent the majority of the day asleep. When I wasn't asleep I was sipping coffee, yet by 9PM I was yawning again, and I slept the night through as though I had had a full day.  So then I began to wonder, am I not feeling well physically, or is this depression? Then I thought, "Great Patty that's what you need, to have anxiety over whether you are letting your anxiety depress you! Just add that to the list of things you are worried about." Kind of a chicken and the egg type thing, do I feel worse because I am getting sick, or do I feel sick because I am feeling worse. (sigh) So if I go home and cry until I run out of tears will I feel better? Will it give me the release I need? Or will it just lead to opening up a Pandora's box of emotion that I clearly am not able to deal with right now? And whatta you do with that? It is not like I have the time, space, or energy to do my drawings, meditate, or even cry to a friend. I pretty much distract myself with my book to keep from having to deal with my overwhelming emotional state, and just keep on keepin on because I don't really feel like I have any other option. I am not am to reach Chuck right now. He is also in an altered state. I can not quit or give up, I have 2 little girls who count on me every day. So each day becomes a blure of things I "have to do" for work, for my family, for my pets, and nothing more. I am sad, I am angry, I NEED to cry.

I have moments of feeling SO glad to have gotten Chuck's daughter out of such a crazy, sad life style. Or of feeling bonded to her, or her feeling attached to me. Or the joy I feel when I am rocking her and she falls asleep with her little head on my chest snuggled up to the stuff animal we got her as a welcome "home" gift. I have moments of pride in my child as she aces her spelling list. Or a moment of hearing her Or a moment of happiness when she giggles about some game we are playing. A moment of contentment with one girl snuggled next to me and one on my lap, story in my hand. And I cling to those mements. They ARE memories that are crystal clear to me. Staying with me and helping me remember what it is like to not be angry or numb. I cling to them. People keep asking me how I am doing? Am I ok? How are we all adjusting? Without a second thought I automatically blut out "we are fine" "I'm ok" "It's ok" The truth is I don't know how much longer I can be this OK, and that scares me. I CAN NOT be depressed. I CAN NOT stop being mom. I CAN NOT stop bringing in an income. I CAN NOT stop supporting Chuck while he does what he has to in order to help his child. I CAN NOT disappear. I know this and it weighs on me. What if I am not ok? Nope, not going to even let my head go there. I MUST be ok. I can't let my emotions get ahold of me.

A Prayer From Psycho Momma for Parenting Tips

I would say this pretty accurately sums up how I have been feeling lately. Apparently it is how Chuck has been feeling to because I heard him yell for the first time in over 2 years this morning. So here is a brief little synopsis of our morning. (beginning last night)
8:00PM-Both girls in bed (yeah go me)
8:35PM- I realize I was supposed to drop my car off at the garage to be worked on at 6AM
8:36PM- Chuck and I argue about how to handle this. I suggest he go ask the neighbors if they mind running him to the garage then. He disagrees and says we should ALL get up at 5:30AM to get the car to the garage.
8:45PM- Yelling (mostly by me) about how Chuck is all wrapped up in all this stuff with his ex and his daughter and how he is creating problems where there are not problems (and there are PLENTY of problems already) He gets angry with me tells me that is not true. How he made dinner and took care of the kids while I had a migraine... You can guess how the rest plays out. Finally I just tell him to go upstairs and leave me alone, and he does.
9:30PM- I sit on the couch trying to decide what to do next. I feel the heart palpitations start and I am fighting the impulse to grab the car keys and run off, just for the sake of running off. (fight or flight I guess)
9:45PM- I decide more anxiety meds, muscle relaxant for the migraine, my Paxil and some quality time with my book are in order
9:47PM- I enter our room to get my meds. I feel my heart race as I walk past Chuck
11:00PM- I fall asleep on the couch reading The Help
11:00-3:00AM- Off and on sleeping on the couch
5:30AM- My alarm goes off
5:35AM- Snooze goes off
5:40AM- Snooze goes off I roll of couch and walk upstairs to wake everyone else
5:45AM- I push open the bedroom door to find our geriatric dog has pooped in the middle of the night, and in the middle of the bedroom floor.
5:46AM- Wake my daughter. Through on shoes, sweatshirt, pants
5:50AM- Chuck wakes his daughter
5:55AM- we load everyone (now awake and chatty) into cars head for the garage
6:04AM- Keys in drop box, we head back home.
6:16AM- I instruct my daughter to head straight upstairs and begin getting ready for school. I begin to look for her clothes.
6:20AM- I give up on looking for matching socks in the clean laundry and head upstairs to search her room.
6:25AM- Still looking for socks, slightly more panicked now (I remember having 2 clean pair in my hand this weekend. WHERE THE HELL DID THEY GO?)
6:30AM- Start yelling to Chuck to help look for said socks as I do my daughter's hair. She screams that I am pulling too much.
6:32AM-Psyco mom makes and appearance and begins freaking out about the missing socks (We have like 5 pair of school socks, how have we lost ALL 5 pair in 2 weeks?) As I look I knock my daughters 20 little "swishies" on the floor and begin yelling about the state of her room.
6:35AM-Both girl put on shoes to drive to bus stop (one to get on the bus, the other because she likes to do whatever the older one does) There is MUCh talking and question asking. "Patty is this the right foot? Patty do I have the right foot? Well is this the right foot?" "Where is my breakfast?" "Mom are we taking the dog to the bus stop"
6:40AM- Chuck and his daughter begin to argue over whether she needs a toy to keep her from getting bored on this 5 minute car ride. (this is where Chuck yells) "I SAID NO!"
6:41AM- She returns to the kitchen and is quickly distracted by the dog, who knows its time to go and is in his create whining and spinning hoping to come also.
6:45AM- Jackets on, leash on dog, we head out
6:47AM- Attach dog harness to seat so he stays put. Buckle in the two girls.
6:48AM- Head to the bus stop. Girls constant chatter the whole way.
6:55AM- We are there (damn it! the bus doesn't come until 7:05-7:10 we are too early)
6:56AM-7:07AM- The girls bicker about sitting with the dog, and then take VERY timed out turns sitting with the dog.
7:08AM- Load kid on bus. Head home with other kid.
7:20AM- Walk dog
7:28AM- Tell Chuck I am going back to bed until I need to get ready for work.
7:32AM- Oh yeah, the dog poop.

When I first became a single mom 4 years ago. Psycho Momma made regular appearances. I mean after all, I was suddenly live 5 minutes from parents I had spent 7 years being 8 hours from. I was a stay-at-home mom and was suddenly a working full-time AND taking care of a 2 year old. She was suddenly in a new house, in daycare, and...well...2. Now that she is 6, and I am well medicated...I mean more together, psycho mom only creeps out at times of extreme anxiety or stress. She now knows psycho mom though, and when she is told that momma is about to loose her temper and we don't wanna deal with crazy momma. She will say uh oh momma, ok. (I don't know if that is good or bad.) This is often followed by her quoting the movie Madagascar and saying "momma is psychotic" "the penguins are psychotic". Let me clarify that I DO NOT believe in yelling. I DO NOT believe in yelling at my child. I DO NOT believe yelling is an affective means of disciple OR communication. I do, however, believe that even the best parents do it in times of frustration or fear. As proof by Chuck's "stern daddy" voice this morning.

Now anyone who has children, and even most people who don't, knows that parenting is hard. It sucks to have to be the bad guy, kids find new and creative ways to test your limits, they are natural curious, naturally messy, they develop little I know everything attitudes. You gotta learn to go with the flow, choose your battles, and be ready for constant change. It's challenging, but what do you do when you have an anxiety disorder? How do you deal with all the punches and battles, especially at times of stress. Our family dynamic has changed so much since the arrival of Chuck's daughter it is hard to describe. There is the additional needs of another child to take care of, there is her constant need for attention, movement, or talking. (We assume because she had to fight for attention from her brother and not noticed by her mother who was self medicated and manic.) Also, she seems to have had little to no rules or guidance. So there are constant battles of will between her and Chuck. All of that coupled with the fact that she does not sleep through the night, has made the anxiety level in the whole house rise. Of course, that is expected with the unexpected arrival of a 4 year old into an already established home. The question now becomes what DO we do with that anxiety. I know, I personally, am beginning to question how good of a step-mom I am going to be. I am tired, I am frustrated, I miss time with Chuck where he could concentrate on what I was saying. He and I are having trouble getting on the same page about how to handle his daughter and her special needs. I am getting scared that maybe, despite me best intentions, I can not handle all of this, Chuck's mental health issues (PTSD, anxiety, depression, and ADD) and my metal health issues.

My migraines are more regular, my sleep is less regular, my temper is high, and my tolerance low. I don't want the girls to feel like it is them. Nor do I want to turn into screaming, yelling, fit throwing psycho mom/ fiance. No one really likes her, most of all me. I have a temper that beyond what is normal. It embarrasses me. Of course I leave whatever room the kids are in to throw my little fit, but I have a hard-time when I am in that fight or flight state of mind to not doing one or the other. If I resist the urge to "fight" then I instantly, desperately want to run. Anywhere. The more I try to control it, the more it bubbles up later. I am not sure how to parent with all of this going on in the back ground.

So I pray. I don't even know if I believe in God. I KNOW I don't think there is a "heavenly" place above me where HE looks down on me and judges all I do, but yet I pray. In fact the other night Chuck's daughter fell asleep on my chest as I rocked her. As I swayed with the rocker I repeated in my head "God bless this child. God bless this family. God bless this child. God bless this family." Lord knows that little girl has been through enough, and we all need some peace in our heads/ home tonight.

When Super Mom Looses Her Secret Identity

Image by Ron Barrett via NYTimes.com

Anyone who has had a new born knows how it feels. You go from working girls, party girl, sexy, fun, funny, hair done, nice clothes, to maternity pants when the new born is 4 months old, exhausted, with some level of postpartum, and none of that really seems to matter because ALL people see any more is the new baby. You seem to have to no longer exist, other than at 4AM when there are dirty diapers to change, or hungry bellies to fill. After....about....4 years, I FINALLY got my groove back! I got all my meds adjusted down, I had lost the baby weight, I was now a single mom, but I was doing my own thing and feeling good about it. I started dating, met the love of my life, don't get me wrong it was not all a bed of roses. I had quite a number of dark days, but over all I was ME again. I had an identity outside of my daughter and my house, but I was still being recognized as a DAMN good mom. (YAY! Go me! Right?) Then about two weeks ago we get handed a 4 year old. Hold on a sec, what just happened? Of course she is Chuck's daughter, and she was in really bad place so there was no hesitation on our part as to if she would come to live with us or not. She was coming-period. Since then there have been a TON of ups and downs getting all of us adjusted, but over all, it has gone exceptionally well. In part, I believe, because I am through and through a kid person. I love children. I relate to children. I am GOOD with children. Chuck knew and saw this fact almost immediately after we met, and both of us being very family focused our kids and our family became the foundation for our relationship. This was what made us happy. So once his daughter moved in I of course put on my super mom uniform right away! We started making sure my daughter had everything she needed. I started looking for support from friends and family. Getting information on case workers, children's therapy, anything to help Chuck's (and now my) little girl. With in weeks we had services researched, we had clothes for her, toys, a new bed, and she and I have a strong bond. Sounds awesome, right? Well, it is, and Chuck tells me daily that I am a wonderful mother, that he is so grateful to me for all I do for our family, and that is above all, my biggest priority. Laaaaately, though....I have been kinda missing me. I remember feeling strong, and sexy, and funny, and deep (at least deeper than "Well, what should Elmo have told Zoe instead of No that's my toy and you can't have it"?) I miss me. I miss Chuck seeing me as more than a "great mom". I know he does, but as anyone with a new child in the house knows, for awhile life becomes engulfed by that new child's needs. But you must not let their needs replace yours. You can not take care of others if you are not taking care of yourself, and as parents you can not build a strong family, if you are not a strong couple. Right before all of this I had begun to draw again, and I was LOVING it. Now I have not had the time, nor have I wanted to take the chance of the kids getting into my art supplies and getting charcoal all over the house. Chuck and I were walking. It was some nice time for us to be together and release some stress. Time has made that harder. I used to get my hair colored and cut every few months and occasionally splurge on a pedicure. Now there seems like so many more important things to do with that money. We talked about being in love, getting married finally, even the possibility of another baby, recently all we talk about is the kids, the ex, custody, services...I am very sarcastic and funny. Lately, the subject matter is always so serious that my normal coping through joking seems inappropriate. I remember going through these same feelings when my daughter was born, so I know it will even out eventually. For now, however....ahhhhhh I am excellent with kids and a super mom if ever there was one....oh and I USED TO BE funny, artsy, sexy, sassy, smart, and cute.

To Ben and Jerry's or NOT to Ben and Jerry's

Let's just put it out there, right out in the open. I am having a bit of trouble dealing with my current stress level, and in an attempt to lessen the spinning in my brain I find myself doing things I would have otherwise had more self control over. Like for example, I don't drink much maybe a few drinks every two weeks or so. Though recently I have noticed that when I do drink, it is a few more drinks than usual. A few weekends ago not only did I have a few more drinks than usual, but I also had my first cigarette in like 10 years. Just one, and it took me like 4 days to erase the taste from my mouth, but I had refused to allow myself even one for years out of fear that would start me down a slippery slope. Thankfully it did not, and of course my no, or limited coffee intake....RIGHT out the window! I am averaging 3 or more cups a day. Clearly not helpful in the shaking, panic attack anxiety arena, but I am so exhausted I truly need something to keep from passing out at my desk. The big thing that I am struggling with, the thing that I KNOW is the biggest issue for me personally, is... stress eating!

Body image and eating in general. I seem to be on a continuous pendulum of guilt. I feel fat, unattractive, run down. I start to get down and I stop eating. After a bit of that the low blood sugar, all the caffeine, and stress in general start to kick in and I begin to get light headed, shaky, and I begin to feel like I am STARVING. After going 12 hour stretches with no, or limited food, even the convenience store seems like a festival of edible delights! Candy, cookies, sandwiches, chips, I briefly eye some fresh strawberries, but decide that I have gotten enough food (none with ANY nutritional value) and move on, but not without also getting more coffee. Then I eat EVERYTHING. All the food I bought myself, the cookie I bought Chuck, AND the cookie I bought my new "step" daughter. (She didn't eat well and was told by her daddy that she did not get a cookie. So I ate it for her.) I think at the time that I am eating ENTIRELY too much, but I justify it. In my head I tell myself, well you have been really stressed out lately. Plus, you may have PMS. It's ok. But later, I feel awful about all of it.  I have to get ready for an event with my daughter's school and I find myself hating my hair, my body, my skin, my make-up...pretty much the whole picture. Again I tell myself that I am being hyper sensative, hyper critical of myself because my depression and anxiety levels are on the rise. And so I swing, holding on to the guilt pendulum as for dear life. Stuck between candy bars and my "fat pants". I decide to make today's blog about stress and the other excuses we use to allow ourselves to treat our bodies poorly.

So I Google stress eating and what I get is a pile of images of people looking forlorn about their situation, most of them skinnier than I am, several diet books and about a hundred images of really fatty, rich, greasy food, and I think YIKES, no wonder I feel all mixed up and guilty. So what's a girl to do? Clearly, the good affects of eating the ice cream and chips is short term, not to mention not helping me to stablize my mood by keeping my blood suger and guilt levels bouncing all over the map. But when I am in the middle of dealing with a work crisis, or dealing with a screaming 4 year old who does not stand why she is suddenly living in a whole new area and house with new (or in her case some) rules to follow, that cady bar seems like something abtainable, while 10 minutes of quiet menditation seems completely out of reach. And exercise, which was helping both Chuck and me stay on top of our depression and anxiety, seems like such a luxury at this point. I am hopeful that we will all settle in and that we can begin to funtion in a healthier way once that happens, but what do we do until that? How do I get myself off this horrible ride that I know is not doing much good for my mental OR physical health. Or do I just ride it and deal with the fatness when I am able to? Chuck keeps joking that I did just have a 4 year old, and that should take it easy on myself. Probably I should take it easier on myself, but I just don't know how to get myself to do that right now.



I am Well Thank You, But I will Not Recover

Yesterday I was reading Madam Bipolars Blog its just chronic, and it made me start to think about all of the talk in the mental health world about wellness and recovery. The wellness part I get. There have been times in my battles with depression and PTSD that I was defiantly NOT well, but recovery? So I did what anyone would do when they wonder about a subject, I googled it! NAMI says there is GOOD NEWS, recovery is possible. Ok but define it for me. Wikipedia has a definition of A Recovery Model. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Recovery_model

The Recovery Model as it applies to mental health is an approach to mental disorder or substance dependence (and/or from being labeled in those terms) that emphasizes and supports each individual's potential for recovery. Recovery is seen within the model as a personal journey, that may involve developing hope, a secure base and sense of self, supportive relationships, empowerment, social inclusion, coping skills, and meaning. Originating from the 12-Step Program of Alcoholics Anonymous and the Civil Rights Movement, the use of the concept in mental health emerged as deinstitutionalization resulted in more individuals living in the community. It gained impetus due to a perceived failure by services or wider society to adequately support social inclusion, and by studies demonstrating that many can recover. The Recovery Model has now been explicitly adopted as the guiding principle of the mental health systems of a number of countries and states. In many cases practical steps are being taken to base services on the recovery model, although there are a variety of obstacles and concerns raised. A number of standardized measures have been developed to assess aspects of recovery, although there is some variation between professionalized models and those originating in the Psychiatric survivors movement.

Ahhhhh...ok. Doesn't recovery imply a a cure? So it makes me wonder, what IS recovery for someone who has clinical depression, bipolar disorder, a personality disorder, or an anxiety disorder? I surely do not consider myself recovered, though I do feel I am well currently. That being said, are we continuing to promote stigmas and misconceptions by choosing the word recovery? Wikipedia continues to say:

Concerns
Some concerns have been raised about recovery models, including that recovery is an old concept, that a focus on recovery adds to the burden of already stretched providers, that recovery must involve cure, that recovery happens to very few people, that recovery represents an irresponsible fad, that recovery happens only after and as a result of active treatment, that recovery-oriented care can only be implemented through the addition of new resources, that recovery-oriented care is neither reimbursable nor evidence based, that recovery-oriented care devalues the role of professional intervention, and that recovery-oriented care increases providers' exposure to risk and liability

I personally have dealt with my share of misconceptions about depression. I have heard all the "suck it ups" "it's just life" "get over it" that I care to hear for my lifetime, and I know people think it is more a personality trait, like pessimism than an actual illness. So is the idea of recovery, similar to the idea of homosexual recover? If you believe in nurture or nature, the plain truth is there is not one easy answer that will "cure" everyone. Also, promoting the idea that mental illness is not a lifetime battle seems wrong to me. My depression and anxiety are disorders I will continue to treat everyday, through therapy, medication, and  support everyday for the rest of my life. I have had people say "counseling is not something you do forever" but I wonder if that is true. For me my weekly check-in with my counselor helps keep me on track, teaches me new techniques to deal with my disorders, and helps to give me a gauge on what is "normal" thought and what is "distorted" thought. It also gives me an earlier indicate of when I start to backslide. An outside TRAINED eye is much more apt to see you more clearly than you see yourself when the darkness starts to creep in, or your hands begin to shake. That is not something I can get out of 10 sessions. I will have to continue on my medications. Forever, just like people with physical disorders. From time to time those medications will need to be adjusted and changed, as my body and hormones change with age. BUT if I do these things I can stay well. Wellness IS achievable. There is no reason with the mental health community shouldn't focusing more on wellness, and personalized treatments instead of just doling out meds or putting people in inpatient facilities. Wellness is measurable to a degree. It is something that to me as a consumer sounds hopeful, do able. Recovery does not seem that way to me. It sounds overwhelming, unachievable for someone who has been places very dark and very low, and who knows they will never qualify as "normal", nor will I ever function the way other people do. Madam Bipolar wrote:
The thing about chronic illnesses is they change the way people live, possibly forever.
My disease, bipolar disorder, has changed the way I have lived in many ways. Here are some of them:

• I have kissed my highly-flying public relations job goodbye. It was too stressful and my moods and behaviour are not stable enough to be thrown into a corporate environment. This is the thing that saddens me the most. I miss working.
• I have left the inner-city for a seaside town. This was partly for Miss Charisma's benefit but also because we needed the support of family and friends.
• I don't drink much alcohol anymore.
• I take loads of drugs every day and I cannot miss a dose. Lithium, Lamictal, Cymbalta and Abilify - the fab four of my nervous system. Without these drugs, I cannot function well.
• I don't deal with stress as well as other people. An example of this happened recently when a Mum from the school knocked on my door in a psychotic state, asking me to drive her somewhere. After the whole thing died down, I had to sleep for three hours. I just can't tolerate things like I used to.

As much as I wish it were not true, people with mental disorders just DO NOT deal with stress, change, or high emotion the way other people do. We do not function the same, but make no mistake we DO function! So please accept us, support us, and help us stay well.

What To Do With A Twitchy Elephant (twitchy as defined below)

Twitchy

AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! TODAY IS A BAD ANXIETY DAY!!!!!  I am literally having trouble sitting still. I went to the Psych doc this morning and she wrote me a script for antianxiety meds (clearly not yet filled) I am twitchy and edgy and about ready to cry at any given moment. I have not been able to concentrate on work for more than about 30 minutes at a time, which makes it hard to complete any given task. I am also beginning to not be able to speak in full and comprehensible sentences. this is a bad thing, a very bad thing for someone who works in the sales field. I am sure my anxiety level is elevated by a lack of sleep, a heightened anxiety level at my house, and some hormones. Today when I returned from taking my daughter to the bus, I found Chuck sitting in the living room while his daughter was in her room screaming "I miss my mommy! I miss my mommy!" My heart breaks for both of them, and Chuck is struggling to make sense of all that has happened in his own head. Making it twice as hard for it to make sense to me. So after only a week, of being a mom of two, I find my stomach in knots, my migraines returning, and my leg bouncing. The heart palpitations have not quite started yet, but I am familiar enough with the anatomy of my panic attacks to know they are not far off. However, taking the prescribed antianxiety medication will mean fatigue, slight loopiness, and the a warning against driving. Some how the constant twitching helps. It makes me feel a little better in some odd way, but it is almost contagious. The more it bounces the more I feel like I NEED to bounce it, and the quick, constant movement seems add to the anxiety.

http://thewvsr.com/index.php/i-live-in-fear-of-catastrophic-filter-failure/

Also the added stress and anxiety seem to have made my filter go all defunct...or maybe that's the lack of sleep. Either way it is not good, and I am pretty sure my co-worker is looking forward to being off tomorrow so as not to have to watch me twitch and listen to me spurt out random thoughts, noises, and humming to myself. It all just seem to slip right out before I am able to stop it. I guess technically I have a small amount of filter because I am not going AH, AH, AH, AH, AH, AH while my head and eye twitch. But hey there is always tomorrow right!?

I hate feeling this way. That crawling out of your own skin feeling. The "if only I could escape from myself". I really hope that the medication takes the edge off because I don't expect to have a whole lot of quiet meditation time this week, and I know I will begin to become a total basket case if I can not get my nerves under control. I begin to do crazy things in order to try to stop that butterfly in my stomach feeling. I can not afford to be crazy this week. I have picture day, dance class, open house at my daughter's school, and a school picnic to attend, on top of the normal everyday functioning. As Dar Williams says:
I don't know how everybody makes it through the daily drill
Paint the nails, walk a dog, pay every bill
Sometimes I feel so overwhelm that just the normal daily "life" stuff makes me feel like I'm going to loose my mind. That's sad isn't it? That is when I feel the craziest. That is when I feel incapable, like "what the hell is wrong with me? Everybody else seems to do it just fine. It's just life chicka suck it up!" At least now I know I will not feel this way forever. Now I know if I can find a way to hold on a little longer things will be better. When I first started to have panic attacks I truly felt like I was just not going to deal with it. Like I was just weak, stupid, lazy, defective some how. Now I know I am only going to feel this way for a time. That helps me keep going a day at a time. But being Momma is in this state is really tough. And now with an additional child who is needing extra attention I am concerned about how I will hold it together. Chuck seems to be in pretty bad shape also and I have doubts that I can hold all of us together. I don't know what to do. How do you take care of 3 other people and two dogs while having panic attacks or while being sedated by medications? It will be ok right? I mean we can do this right? I can do this right, and It won't feel like this forever? (breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out)

 

Buffering

While it's always nice to be needed, it occasionally becomes overwhelming. Sometimes it feels as though I am talked AT ALL DAY LONG instead of talking TO me. From, work, to the bus stop to home, from the boss (aka father) to the kids, to the man, to the dogs somebody needs/ wants something, even if that something is really nothing except their own entertainment. It is hard to find a place of your own, or the space for your own thoughts some days. I find, increasingly, that if I have quiet time, I am able to maintain a quiet mind. If there is constant commotion around me then there is commotion in my mind. The higher my stress level climbs the more I become flustered, anxious, confused, and forgetful. I think the same is true of most people, but I find it exceedingly true for those of us with mental disorders. The need for schedule, lists, consistency and patterns also increase for me to function. Without them even my speach becomes broken. I used to wonder if I was "flighty" or "dumb" because I would forget obvious things and overlook details that seemed plain to others, but it was more often that I was rushed, my regular routine was interrupted, I was overly tired, or especially stressed. More and more I need time, time for me, time to decompress, collect my thoughts. Not because I am unintelligent, but because I am thoughtful, creative, and processed. Without time and quiet I can not complete a thought. Things get spotty and I begin to be creative where I should not be. I begin to magnify things, think illogically, from there it snowballs. The less time I have to think things through clearly, the more irrational I become, until I reach my breaking point (which usually entails crying, screaming, throwing things...you get the picture I think) However, I find taking even 15 minutes to clear my mind makes able to deal with even the big things, like for example being handed a 4 year old without warning. Writing this blog also allows me to collect my thoughts, purge. Them to a degree and look at life again in a new light. Knowing and practicing these simple acts is allowing me to keep myself stable during a very unstable point in my life. I only wish I had learned some of this sooner and been able to save myself some stuggles, and lessened my need for medications, self distruction, and negative self esteem. But with every experience, with every challenge comes a new chance for knowledge, a new chance for growth. A new chance to know yourself a little better, to become a little stronger

Do Kids Come With a Reset Button?

http://mybin.wordpress.com/nature-vs-nurture-series/

Due to the living situation of Chuck's daughter, and her current diagnoses of behavioral and mental disorders, in addition to her mother and brother's mental health disorders, we have been talking quite a bit about nurture vs nature in our house recently. What elements of one's personality are innate and unchangeable, and what are coping mechanisms that stem from our environment? Of those, what can be changed by a change of environment, and what becomes innate after time? For example, it is widely believed that conditions like depression and anxiety are highly hereditary traits, but if you are depressed or anxious your in child will pick up on those emotions, your reactions, and learn from you as a role model. So by the time a child is old enough to display symptoms of either disorder, how do you determine what is a learned behavior and what is something intrinsic? Are the issues this little girl has, something she does TRULY need to be medicated for, or with a more stable, consistent, and nurturing environment, can we change her reactions, and behaviors over time? I tend to believe that your have certain traits that you are born with, and even more that are learned. In conjunction with that, you LEARN how to deal with your inherited thought processes and behaviors. For example, my anxiety, maybe inherited or learned, however, through out the years I have learned different coping mechanisms to deal with anxiety. My initial coping skills where not very health, or helpful for that matter. They involved crying, fit throwing, screaming. Then as I got old they involved more self destructive behaviors, but after some help from counselors I was able to relearn new coping skills that were healthier. Now I practice yoga, draw, blog, do some deep breathing. I still have the anxiety but I have learned to control it.

Chuck believes similarly, but he also believes that if you are traumatized or have a behavioral or mental health issue come up during brain development and you are not taught healthy coping mechanisms, that your brain will, in a sense rewire its self. Therefore something that was once learned becomes ingrained, and permanent. So a child who is not able to develop a health sleep pattern as an infant, my have permanent developmental issues and long-term sleep pattern issues. Bringing to question can you "reset" these behaviors over time, or must you simply teach your child a to cope with this? These are questions we are now studying deeply as we try to create the best atmosphere for this young girl to learn grow and develop in. How do we best help her? What does she need from the adults around her to heal and become a strong individual? How do we reduce the use of medications, and replace them with cognitive behavioral techniques? How many of her issues came from an unstable environment, a lack of guidance, a lack of attention, and how many will remain with her for a life time? What therapies will best help her? Cogitative? Play? Art? Developmental? We are prepared to try them all if we need to. Any advice is appreciated, and I will continue to share what we learn on our journey.