Me verses The Illness

I am NOT a drama queen. I have an anxiety disorder. A real, diagnosed, and medicated disorder that makes the mole hills feel like mountains.

I am NOT a ditz. I take medications that make me forget things. Plus, stress makes every one's mind a little spotty.

I am NOT incapable, or lazy. I am depressed. Again, a real, diagnosed, disorder that is being treated with medication and psychotherapy.

I do NOT choose to be this way. Clinical depression is caused by a chemical imbalance in one's brain. It is not something that can be controlled or stopped. It is an illness, just like any other illness.

I am NOT weak, or feeling sorry for myself. A genuine feeling of hopelessness, or helplessness, is also part of my disorder from time to time. I can not think my way out of it, and it makes it very hard to stay motivated when you feel like nothing you do matters.

I am NOT a victim. I have an illness. I wish I did not, but much like physical illness, it is not a condition I could have prevented. In fact, it is probably LESS preventable than some physical illnesses.

I am NOT crazy for cry for no apparent reason. I do not always know why I am feeling sad. It is one of the symptoms of depression. I may not understand why I am crying, and I may cry at random. Again, brain chemicals, or sometimes hormones causing my brain chemicals, to get out of wack.

I am NOT over reacting. I have real emotions, and real feelings. I am allowed to have these feelings. To me they are real, and valid, even if they are exaggerated by my disorders.

I am NOT a out of control. I often realize my feelings are disproportional to an event. People with anxiety and mood disorders have mood swings. Again, a very common symptom of these illnesses.

I am NOT attention seeking. I would actually rather have you not notice me when I am struggling. The last thing I want is to be pitied. It only makes me feel worse about myself at a time when I am already low.

Like many illnesses, my metal illness requires life style changes that sometimes make me feel as though it has taken over my entire life. During the darkest parts of my depression I find that I need to remind myself what is me, and what is illness. Because the symptoms often effect my mood and personality, it is hard to remember who I am innately verses what is a symptom of a nasty desease.

Drugging the Mentally Ill

One year ago this month there was a horrible event in Tuson, AZ. A man, with a history of drug use and disturbed behavior, opened fire on a crowd in a supermarket parking lot. It was a meet and greet for the local congress woman. Jaded Loughner was captured and assrested at the scene, but not before he killed 6 people (including a 9 year old who had come to meet the congress woman) and injured 13 others (including congress woman Gabby Giffords herself.) The case has been well publicized due to Gabby Giffords amazing recovery from the head wound, and AZ lax gun laws. Then fuel thrown on the fire by press coverage and the current political climit here in the US, which is highlighting more and more of people's differences, than their commonalities. For Gabby Giffords is a "liberal" and Jared Loughner is...well...not.

As I said, the shootings happened just over a year ago, and Jaded Loughner has yet to go on trial. He has been declared incompetent to stand trial. Instead he is in a facility, being forcefully give psychiatric medication, in order to make him fit for trial.

Now, the whole concept of this seems, just wrong to me. I do believe everyone deserves their day in court, but if you are not mentally competent to stand trial, are you mental competent enough to understand the crime you are accused of? And how moral is it to forcefully give psychiatric drug to someone, anyone? Is it different on a case to case basis? In this case, in particular, the accused was witnessed and apprehended at the scene. There is little doubt he pulled the trigger. So then the question becomes, did he knowingly and maliciously commit this crime? Based on his current mental state, I'm going to have to say, that there is no way he could have been mentally sound enough to understand the out come. Did he do something unspeakably horrible? Yes. Did innocent people get hurt, die because of it? Yes. Do I think he is a dangerous person? Absolutely! But how is forcing him to be medicated enough to sit through a trial helping him as a person or us as a society? What is the moral answer here? We do not want to go back to a time when healthy people were committed to state hospitals just on someone else, but if the accused can not pass a psych evaluation in order to stand trial, is it worth sending them to trial at all?  I'm just not sure, and is the bigger issue here how we as a society treat the mentally ill in general.

Opinions Welcome

Science Friday Archives: Combatting Depression With Meditation, Diet

As a regular NPR listener, and generally, a fan of alternative medicines, you can imagine my delight when I tuned in to Science Friday and heard part of this interview. Now I have tried meditation, yoga, St. John's Wart, Samee, exercise...pretty much whatever suggestions are out there to avoid medication for my clinical depression and clinical anxiety. Some of them helped lessen the symptoms, often they helped me keep my anxiety from peeking. But none of them made me feel good, or normal. However, since I also suffer from physical illness and migraines, in addition to anxiety and depression, I was especially interested when I heard the radio talking about a possible connection between depression and inflammation. It made me hopeful that some day maybe I could be cured and not just well.

Now at this point, I think it is important to say that I only heard PART of this interview, and I did not know it was Dr Weil being interviewed. I downloaded the interview so that I can listen to the full content. Also, being interested in alternative and inclusive treatment I have heard of Dr Weil, but have never researched him myself or formed my own opinion on his treatments and philosophies. I have read some articles and some quotes of his that I agree with, and some that I do not. In reading the responses to this interview, it seems there are two schools of thought here, both with their own biases and misconceptions.

First, alternative medicine (often actually derived from various ancient cultures) is often over looked as a real form of treatment. As is the connection between the psychological effects of physical illness on one's mood, and the effect of one's physical health on their mental health. There are many positives about alternative and natural treatments, and their are many misunderstandings about them as well.  And that is without getting into the issues within the health care system and private insurance available here in the USA, that make alternative medicines more expensive and less researched than traditional drugs.

The second school of thought comes from the view point of the mentally ill themselves. Having, myself, been misdiagnosed, over medicated, and felt the sting of the stigmas associated with depression and mental illness. We are tired of the Tom Cruise types and others who have never delt with the debilitating effects of clinical depression telling us that we just need to change our life style, or stop being lazy, or dwelling on things. While dealing with depression does take a certain amount of determination to survive, there are very real physical reasons for the emotional reactions we are having. And exercise, diet, meditation, yoga all help with depression as a mood, or the symptoms of depression, they often do NOT do enough for people with clinical illness. These things help me use less medication. They help me to avoid panic attacks, but they do not help me in times of high stress when my brain is not producing enough chemicals to help me think the way other people do. I do NOT see the alternatives during those moments. To me depression is as though someone has turned out all the lights in my head. I no longer see alternative pathways. I no longer feel hopeful. I no longer feel important or strong. I personally do manage to get out of bed most days, but I know many people who don't. So to tell someone who is already feeling bad about not being able to get up, or leave the house, that they should have the self awareness and discipline to exercise or meditate is just unrealistic. Plus, believe me when I say "You are NOT the first person to suggest this to a depressed person! If it were that simple, there would not be the mental health epidemic that there is."

In the end, it all boils down to stigmas and misconceptions. If we would all make a little more room in our lives to accept what other people believe, it could make a world of difference to everyone. Incorporating mind and body in ANY medical treatment is just a good idea. That said, knowing that people with mental illnesses have real medical conditions, that requires  real treatment, and not just a good talking to, is critical to making a difference in people's lives.

What is your opinion? Are you a Dr Weil fan? Do you believe in alternative medicines? Do you think there are links between diet, exercise, and depression, or is that just one more stigma for people with mental illness to battle?

What Is Wrong With Me?

A few years ago I started having this pain in my abdomen. At that time they put me through a a bunch of tests. I had blood tests, multiple ultrasounds, an MRI, upper GI scope, colonoscopy and after each one the doctors would say "we found xyz, but we don't think that is what is causing your pain." Finally, my OBGYN said he thought I had a cyst on my right ovary. He did laproscopic surgery, but once he was in there, couldn't find it. He said it may have burst and sent me home. Off and on the pain returned I would try to ignore it or get some pain meds to help until it lessened. Then a few months ago, wham, it was back and it was worse. Chuck convinced me to try going to the ER. There they found some questionable things, but no diagnosis. They told me to follow up with my primary care doctor. I went to my primary care doctor fully expecting to be poked and prodded again only to end up with no answers. Instead, she sends my to the ER to be admitted to the hospital and have my pancreas and gall bladder tested. Three days later I am having my gall bladder removed. I was actually pretty damn happy about it. FINALLY an answer. FINALLY a resolution. Ahhhh but there was a but, BUT because you don't have gall stones we can only say there is a 70% chance it is your gall bladder. Well, 70% sounds pretty damn good. For weeks post surgery I analyzed every little pain I had. Finally, feeling it was ok I let my guard down. Gall bladder gone, some mild digestive issues left, but over all, relief...Until about a week ago. The pain is back. I spent a full day a the ER getting nowhere, again. Called my PCP and have been hopped up on prescription pain meds for several days. I had another ultrasound yesterday and go in for the results tomorrow. But the frustration, and disappointment at having to start this process all over is unbelievable. Not to mention the effects of narcotic pain medication on someone who already deals with depression. I feel broken and like a burden on my already strained family. And I begin to wonder, is this all in my head? Am I so stressed and sick I have pain for no reason? And what do I do with that? I really hope I find some answers soon.

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.

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.

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)

 

Too Much Coffee????

Perhaps it is the 12 cups of coffee I drank today, the looming visit from Child Services, the total lack of money, work stress, raising a child, or hormones, whatever the cause I seem to be increasingly on edge lately. I have been trying to meditate, draw, blog, breath, anything that might help me keep it together. Yet today, when the tension rod thingy (yes that IS the technical term) from the toilet paper holder popped out shooting across the room and making a loud pop when I reached for it earlier, I jumped and shrieked loudly enough that my co-worker heard me at the front of the store. Oh yeah, did I mention this was at work? I go back to the Psych Doc in about a week. Last time I was there we changed my antidepressant from Cymbalta to Paxil in an attempt to help with anxiety. I really don't like meds like Xanex, but I am beginning to feel that if I do not do something my head might explode! Are there coping strategies I am missing, or do I break down and use meds temporarily just for my own metal stability? Chuck is a meds person. He has no fear of taking anxiety or depression meds, but I am more hesitant. In my early 20's I had a REALLY bad doctor who had me one a REALLY large amount of drugs and I did not do well with it. No I try to do everything I can to avoid taking anything beyond the minimal amount of medication I can. The problem with this is, that as anyone who has experienced anxiety or depression knows, when you are in the midst of it you don't always see yourself as clearly as you otherwise might. That means that occasionally I do not ask for help until I am literally loosing sleep, weight, and my already questionable sanity. So when do you say when? I know I am being short with my family. I know I am crying and awful lot, and I know I am incredibly jumpy, but I am scared that more drugs= more side affects + more money. How do you know what is best? How do you balance the side affects with the symptoms if it is something that is not black and white, not life altering? I do not want to feel like this all the time, but I do not want to feel "drugged" either. I have been drugged to the point where I felt like the drugs made me feel less sane rather than more sane. It is a scary feeling. I have a much better doc now, but what if the idea of anti-anxiety meds makes you anxious? How do you handle that?