The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From the Tree

I watch my daughter fidgeting in her seat as we go over her spelling words. I see her cover her ears and shake whenever there is a loud noise. I recognized her panicked expressions, her need for distraction, and her heighten sensitivity to what's around her. We do not celebrate Halloween, we DO NOT use auto flush toilets, we avoid masks of all kinds, and until this year tall slides or play tubes were completely out! Every teacher, and several of her doctors have said what I already know. My daughter has an anxiety problem. Since she is only 7 I will not call it a disorder. However, seeing as her father and I having both been diagnosed with, and are being treated for, general anxiety disorder, I feel certain this is not a phase. I see her suffering, feeling genuine fear and anxiety and I want to make it better. I want to fix it for her.

I know all to well how she feels. The crawling out of your own skin feeling anxiety gives you. The butterflies in your stomach over the littlest things. I experience it too, while I have tried to hide my anxiety from her since she was a baby, I know that she sees my reactions, and she feels my tension. The worst part, and the hardest part for me to control, is my heighten sensitivity. The littlest noises, or motions will make me literally feel jittery, nervous, or tense. Oh and crowds, large crowds of people will make me feel like my head is going to explode. So, amusement parks, malls, festivals, concerts, all anxiety ridden for me, and in turn, for her. Once I feel like crawling out of my skin, my sensativity to being touched also increases. I feel so much guilt when my child wants a hug or a snuggle and I pull away. I seats try to explain that mommy is having a hard time right now, or mommy needs some space, but I see her expression drop each time and it breaks my heart. And it breaks my heart to know that some day she will understand EXACTLY how I am feeling.

Storm Clouds

While sometimes my depression sneaks up from behind and grabs hold of me with a cold, hard grip, sometimes I can see it coming long before it is full blown. Like a dark storm looming on the horizon, each cool breeze blowing it closer.

My last few weeks have been good, not in a mood sense, but in the sense that things are slowly turning around for me. I got a job, not just any job, but a job I am really excited about and that I think I will be really good at. My daughter and I chose a new pet. It's a bunny named Easter. She is friendly, funny, and low maintenance (at least compared to, say... a puppy). I took a week long vacation. Just me and one of my closest friends spending lots of time catching up, eating yummy food, having some drinks, and having all the conversations we have been saving up for each other. I had a parent teacher conference, and my child is doing really well in school, her whole class is ahead of where her teacher has ever been, in part because she had no snow days this year, but that's ok I can pretend. All of these things should make me happy, and truly they do. Yet...clouds. I see the joy in the moments around me and I feel almost robbed by my disorder, because I can not always rejoice in them.

Last week, the dark clouds broke and the rain started to pour down. I spent one full night just sobbing, literally sobbing and wanting to just give up and hide under my blankets for awhile. I am "high functioning" clinically depressed, meaning it has been years since I was so far down that I could not get out of bed, or go to work but weeks of going through the motions, walking around like a shell of a person while trying to figure out how to pay all my bills, trying to make a Easter memories, perfect birthdays, impress perspective bosses, smiling through uncomfortable, or flat out crappy, moments at work and with my mother. I end up taking on so much for other people, more than what they would ever ask of me, and yet no one can help lessen the weight of my own moods and worries. It sometimes feels unfair and it all caught up with me at once. I suddenly felt tired, tired of trying, tired of not being good enough, tired of fighting so hard to change the path I am on, tired of pretending that I am alright all the time, but most of all tired of day to day ups and downs of living with an anxiety and mood disorder. Why am I so damn tired all the time? Emotionally, physically, and mentally exhausted ALL. THE. TIME!!! Some days it feels like such a heavy weight to carry around, and I wish it could be lifted off for just a little while and I could have a break. I don't expect life to be easy, and I believe everyone has their cross to bare. I just want a time where I DON'T have to be strong, I DON'T have to struggle, I DON'T have to put "my best foot forward".

There was a time when I struggled with the idea of being labeled as metally ill. I believed it was situational, or some how temporary. Now, now I struggle with how permanent it is. I try to wrap my head around the idea that it is "ok" to feel this way, or that this is something that I will have to deal with for the rest of my life. I try to make sense of how I can not stop the moods, or the dark clouds and rain from coming, even when I see them on the horizon. All I can do is seek shelter, hunker down, and remind myself that I will survive the storm.

What is "normal"?

This week, at counseling we spent a lot of time on normal, and what is normal. Is it normal to get upset when people move my things? Is my definition of love normal? Is my relationship with my family normal? Is it normal to feel this angry with my ex husband? What is normal, exactly?

Dictionary.com defines normal as:
normal nor·mal
- adjective 1. of standard type; usual - noun 2. the standard or average - Related Forms un·nor·mal - adjective un·nor·mal·ly - adverb un·nor·mal·ness - noun nor·mal·ize - verb

[nawr-muhl]

Origin: 1520–30; < L normālis made according to a carpenter's square

A standard type, usual, average. When you are talking about behavior, or thought process, it is hard to define what is standard, usual, or average. Many of us know what normal behavior is for us as individuals. As in "I don't normally do that". But how do you define usual for others? So much of what we view as "normal" or "acceptable" is defined by your experiences and individual beliefs. For example, in my family, we have large family gatherings, many of which you are expected to attend unless you live on the other side of the country, or are on deaths door. My friends from smaller, or less close families do not understand the this dynamic, and do not see the urgency to attend these events. Does that mean either of us is abnormal, or wrong? No. We are simple from different backgrounds, with different life styles, different circumstances. Yet, it seems so easy for so many people to define abnormal, or crazy. Worse yet, we (or at least I) all too often, view ourselves (or myself) through the lens of someone else's "normal".  That person maybe a parent, a spouse, a friend, or just an image that we have created in our minds based on what we read, see on TV, in magazines, or online. Allowing yourself to be defined by other's ideas of what is the norm, can make "normal" seem unobtainable.

I have allowed myself to be defined by other people's definitions of abnormal and crazy for so long, that I fine myself constantly wondering what normal is. For as long as I can remember, I have been striving to be "normal" and accepted. Since the first panic attack, since the first therapy session, since the first med, since the first diagnosis of mental illness, I have seen myself as broken. So much so, that I seem to have lost track of what is just me being me, and what is a symptom of a larger problem. I have lost the line between quirk and illness. Constantly evaluating, often rather harshly, my own behaviors, and thoughts, to try to figure out if they are "normal" or if they are distorted. Trying to define, in my own mind, what "normal" is and desperately wanting to achieve it. The strangest, saddest part is, that reading the definition of normal from above, I have no desire to be average, usual, or standard. Perhaps I need to remind myself that the next time I find myself longing to be seen as "normal". I saw a Facebook status once that said "Normal is just a setting on a washer." Dictionary.com says it originated as from the word normalis, meaning made by a carpenter's square. Maybe we should have left it at that.

What's are your feelings on normal verses abnormal, illness verses quirks? I'd love some input.

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.

Predator and Prey

Sometimes my depression is like a relentless stalker. Lurking somewhere just out of sight, blending in with a blur of faces I pass at the grocery store. I can't see it, but I sense it there, just waiting to pounce. The same way a zebra senses the lioness watching it from behind the tall grass. There is an uneasiliness about me, a constant anxiety about what lies around each corner. I have a greater awareness of every sound, every movement, every person around me. I have a constant need to move, distract myself. It all begins to ware away at me. The tension in me builds until I become so overwhelmed and angry that I begin to show physical signs of anxiety. My hands visibly shake, and I appear tired. I have been trying to out run my own misery for so long that I begin to stumble. I become disorganized, my memory becomes spotty, and my energy level drops. I don't immediately see the changes in myself. I have no sense that I am beginning to make myself more and more vunerible. I am so wrapped up in the fear of the depression coming that I do not realize it is beginning to close in on me. Eventually, worn down by my own efforts to distract myself, the constant worrying about being ok, and the stress of life as a single mom with a crappy job, I am forced by my body to stop and breath. This is the moment, the moment I become the sick zebra who has strayed from the herd. And wham, like a sudden strike to the head it hits me. All at once the anger, the sadness, the anxiety, they become too much, and I go down. Feeling like I have been rendered helpless, I have nothing left to fight back with. Mundane, everyday tasks become more than I am able to muster up the energy or desire to do. Taking care of my child and sleep become my only goals for the day. I feel angry and weak for letting myself get overrun in such a way. That is when the the real damage starts. The recordings begin to play in my head, and with them comes all the memories. The memories of every time in my life that I didn't measure up or every time that I let my depression stalker overtake me. I fill with sadness, embarrassment, and fear. What if this is my whole life? What if I am not as capable as I thought I was? What if I need help? Who will help me? I don't want to be a burden to anyone, nor do I want to admit that I am not capable of keeping a home clean, working full-time, or being the best mom I can be to my little girl. Those are things I should be able to do. Those are things "normal" people do everyday. Why can't I? Why couldn't I just keep running? Why did I let myself get caught by this illness again?

And so it's been for the last few weeks. Constant need to run, distract myself, pretend not to feel the presence of my stalker behind me. Until two very bad days in a row knocked my feet out from under me, and down I came like an injured zebra, and the predator did not hesitate to snap me up in my moment of weakness. Looking back I can see so clearly all the little signs that I was in danger. I wonder if I could have stopped it some how. Cut it off at the pass. For now I sit here, wondering how I am going to get through the week, and even if I do what will happen next. How long will it long will it take to escape my captor? Once freed, how long will I be able to run before it catches up with me again?

Perception

I have not been writing much lately, and I have been missing it. So tonight I am posting two entries, AND recommitting myself to writing this blog more often. Now, on to entry number two!

I have written before about how, as someone who suffers from clinical depression and an anxiety disorder, I don't process stress the same way other people might. But I think beyond that, people with mental illnesses, live in a different reality than those who do not have a disorder. Which is not to imply we are delusional, but in fact, much of everyone's reality is based in perception. Just as three people can experience the same event at the same time, but recall it in three different ways. They all experienced it based on their own perspective. Each perspective is formed by your unique personality, past experiences, fears, and believes. For people with depression or anxiety, the world is often a darker, scarier place. Therefore, we often perceive events in our lives with more negativity or scepticism than others might. Because of this I have been called a drama queen or a negative person. I am sorry to say, I can not help it and having my bleak outlook on life pointed out to me as a weakness, often just makes me feel worse. My reality is that some days there is no light at the end of the tunnel, because...Well, mostly because my brain chemicals are off, and even though the light is still there, my brain is only allowing me to see the dark tunnel at that point.

I was recently told a story about a teenage boy with bipolar disorder. He was going through what most would see as normal adolescent insecurities and issues. But in his minds eye, it was so much more. He committed suicide. His pain was real, regardless of what other people's reaction to the same experiences were. He was unable to see his experiences as normal, or temporary because the were clouded by his mental illness.

Through the help of my counselor, and my medications, I am learning two things. First, that even if I can not see the light at the end of the tunnel, it is still there. Sometime I can just hold on long enough and it reappears on its own.  Other times, I have to push myself a little, keep putting one foot in front of the other, until I see light again. The other lesson I have learned (just recently) is that challenging your perception can change your reality.  I believed very strongly that many people from the small town I grew up in thought of me as crazy, because at 19 I went through a very dark depression, and began having panic attacks. However, with in the last few years, through the power of the internet, I began reconnecting with several people I grew up with. As people began opening up, I found that many of them understood what I had gone through, or had been through similar things. Nearly 20 years after leaving that town, I am finding my perception was wrong, and I am getting closer to that dark part of my life.

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.

Kids teaching parents

Read Madam Bipolar's blog, Plan B and the comments that followed it, makes me think a lot about my mental illness and its effects on my daughter. (Both genetic and environmentally) I, in fact, just today call a family therapy group so that we can deal with her anxiety. (Daddy was kind enough to provide his own anxiety disorder to her genetic make up, in addition to my disorders.) As well as, to help her deal with Chuck and his daughter moving out. It is something I am constantly aware of. For example, the other night I had a particularly bad anxiety night and my daughter wanted to climb on me, snuggled with me, the normal stuff, but for some reason every time she touched me I got jumpy and felt like I was going to crawl out of my skin. She was doing her normal 6 year old thing, but the wiggling, and talking, and bumping me....I just couldn't take it. It made me feel like a horrible momma's. She just wanted some attention. Now believe me when I say my child has NO lack of attention! She is an only child, and the first born grandchild of 3 sets of grandparents. But the fact that I knew MY disorder was causing me to not be able to hold her, snuggled her, and be the affectionate mom I usually am bothered me. As a lot of the comments left on the Plan B blog said you become so aware of moments like that. Instead of yelling at her and telling her to leave momma a lone, we talked and she understood that momma's needed some down time. It helps some to see her understand and reflect that. She will tell her dad when he call that she "thinks momma's newest some alone time because she is really frustrated and upset"
These things, these example, show not just the negate side of a mentally ill parent, but they also show a little girl with a kind heart. She is always willing to help and always wants to make people feel better. I once told "No, no honey momma's is the adult. I will take care of it." She rubbed my back, whiles my tears away and said, "See momma's even little people can help too." And she was right. I needed to feel love and cared for that night.
I have struggled from clinical depression and anxiety since I was 19 (least that's when I was diagnosed). My 20s were spent in a lot of turmoil. Skipping class, sleeping a lot, then the panic attacks started. Then I stopped caring. Stopped eating, stopped wearing make up, started cutting, got my first tattoo. I cycles though the depression, the self destructive behavior for the next few years. Then once I had mocked with my ex down south, I found people who began helping me. I kept up with my medications, as well as my counseling. As did my ex. I went to counseling 8month pregnant, I went 9 months pregnant, and I went with a new born. I did NOT want to fail now that I had a little life at stake. Just having her makes me want to be a better person, makes me want to maintain my level of being high functioning. She pushes me to do that. When I am to depressed to get out of bed I get up and get her to school, every morning. After I get home I lay down again, but damn it she is at school. When Chuck lived here and he was non-stop on me about something and I wanted to grab my keys and go, but I didn't I didn't want to leave me daughter here without me. She sees that I am down or "Don't feel so well", and she generally let's me rest. She understands a lot for a kid her age. We talk about our feelings all the time. But most of all she makes me stronger. She makes me feel I can do things for her that I can do for no one else. The bus stop, every morning. Some times just get outta bed.
If I lived alone I would not get up, but she needs her momma's. So I push myself and I do it. Basically what is am saying is that without her I don't know that I would try so hard, or push myself as hard, or ever have know unconditionally love! And since I, and pretty much I alone, made my girl everything wonderful, compassionate, smart, independent. I gave her that and she gives me a reason to push on.

Update 12/7/11- I apologize for the earlier typos. I was writing on my cell phone and after taking my Paxil and Ambien.   

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 Reality?

<p>Sometimes, just the fact that I have been diagnosed with a metal illness, makes me question things I don't think I would have otherwise questioned. For example, when I was younger I had a boyfriend who was mentally and emotionally abusive. There were times when he would do, or say something, that my gut told me was wrong. Like so many abusers, he would of course argue with me that I, myself, had caused this to happen. That I was only causing myself pain, not him. This happened over and over until I began to question my own instincts. I began to feel that, maybe I WAS to blame. Maybe, I was truly not looking at the world wrong. Maybe, I was seeing a totally different picture than what was truly happening. This was a gauge I was never really able to reset, especially once I began therapy and was prescribed medications, both things that only happened to people who had MAJOR issues according to my family.  Those events in combination with being told continuously as a child that I was over reacting, overly sensitive, or overly dramatic, I beginning of my seeing myself as "crazy".

<p>Several times since then I have experienced major depressions, been put on different medications, had panic attacks, been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder, and acted out in various self destructive and self defeating ways. All of these things just convinced me more and more that I am, indeed, a "crazy" person.

What I am left with is the inability to judge my own actions and feelings. I am constantly second guessing myself. Assessing, and reassessing my thought, feeling, and reactions. Whenever my interpretation of an event differs from other people's I begin to question my own gasp on reality. Even though I have never been diagnosed with any condition that would involve delusions of any kind, or any loss of a concept of reality, I have such a fear of being seen as "crazy", incapable, or off balance.

Lately, this sensation is getting worse for me. Chuck and I have been fighting viciously over the last week. Both of us stepping beyond the limits of a mature disagreement. Several times my feelings have been hurt so deeply, and I have felt so unloved and unimportant that I have flown off in intolerable rage. Often as things escalate, Chuck will tell me I need help, I am hysterical, or that I need more medication. This, of course translates in my head as, "You are crazy! I am discrediting everything you have just said because clearly you are out of your mind." This instantly makes me intensify out of sheer determination to be heard and important. Of course since this often involves screaming my head off and hurling objects at walls, and yes even at Chuck, it is also entirely self defeating. Afterward, mixed with the shame, hurt, anger, and frustration I feel the need to rehash the whole argument in my head trying, in vain, to figure out how two people could possibly see the same situation in such an extremely different way. Clearly, one of us must be completely out of touch with reality in order to be so far apart on our interpretation of one event. I begin to question my own sanity, my own ability to look at reality.

In addition, I have this horrible pain in my side and after 3 or 4 weeks of doctors visits, tests, and a trip to the ER I still have no answers. I am beginning to fear that people will begin to think there is nothing wrong with me. That this is a cry for attention, prescription medication, not as bad as I claim, or just psychosomatic. Meanwhile, the pain is getting worse and the constantness mixed with narcotic pain meds is beginning to effect my mental state as well as my physical. Then I begin to question if this pain is real.

Does this happen to other people? Do you ever have someone contradict your intuition, or interpretation of an event to the point that you begin to question your sanity, or am I SO trained that I am overly sensitive that I am now overly sensitive to being overly sensitive? I no longer know what's real and what's in my head.

My Favorite Jem

Inspired by bat crap crazy today I have been thinking about friends. Girl Friends specifically and how I would not have made it this far without the friends I have. Now there are people who come into your life for a reason and then you grow apart or go your separate ways. There are friends who cycle in and out of your life. Sending love, and some laughs your way from time to time. Then there are the kind of friends who (as they say) know everything about you and love you anyway.


I have a really great group of friends. They support me through the depressed times, they offer me a hand when I fall down, a glass of wine when I need it, a shoulder to cry on, some perspective, even helped me get all the basics covered when we got the surprise call from child services. Each of them brings a certain strength to our friendship, ALL of them have a FABULOUS sense of humor, and I am constantly amazed by how strong and supportive they are.

http://fineartamerica.com/featured/girl-friends-jerry-l-barrett.html

Today though I am missing one friend more than I can say. She up and moved halfway across the country about 2 months ago. She is one of those 1 in a million friends. She and I connect on a different level. She knows all my faults, and all the stupid things I have done in my life (ok well most of the stupid things). In spite of all the craziness in her own life she always has time for me.We both talk too much, and have a warped sense of humor. We dye our hair funny colors, pierce things, and get tattoos as therapy (sometimes together). She is an amazing artist, and has the same type of life philosophies that I do. We can talk about our less than perfect mental health.  I can cry (literally) to her, and she will just listens when I need her to and offers suggestions where she can. We both have partners in life that have metal illnesses, allowing to talk to each other without worrying about being judged. I got spoiled by having her in my life and only a 20 minute drive away. About 3x a month we would catch up with each other. It often took hours, and several drinks, to fill each other in on our lives. We once even had a slumber party with my daughter involving movies, dinner, ice cream, and A LOT of talking. We had pedicure dates, pizza night, and trips to the mall. I even made she and her husband chick pea soup one night. We leaned on each other a lot, I guess even more than I realized because the last few months I am feeling lost without her, and I have needed her. With all that is happening with Chuck's daughter coming and my depression worsening, I have missed my friend. And I know she has missed me as well. She is trying to adjust to a new community, far away from her family. Her husband has been struggling with all the changes and has been sick again because of it. We keep in touch as best we can via Facebook, text, email, and phone calls, but it is not the same. It is hard to have a drink with a friend who is 12 hours away! I miss being able to say, "I need to get out, whacha up to?" and meeting her an hour later. I miss curling up on her couch for long talks, and going for walks with her and her dog. I miss giving her a hug, or her giving me one. Most of all I miss having someone who I never have to hide anything about myself.I am not sure if she knows, but her support has been influentially in keeping me grounded and stable, and I am definantly seeing a difference in myself without her here. Being able to be completely relaxed and at home, without feeling judgement. She just gets it, no matter what it is, and I love her for it.

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.

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.

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.

Unexpected

So yesterday the call came, The call we have been both dreading and hoping for. Child services was at Chuck's ex's apartment and called to say that he needed to come get his daughter or she would go to into foster care. Her mother was going to "take care of some of her problems." and her half brother has enough psychological issues at less than 10 years of age, that he has been hospitalized three times now. So with as little as 1 hours warning, I have a new 4 year old (almost) step-daughter living with me. I have been joking that we are a Maxwell House family (instant) but inside I am scared to death. My new daughter is on Seriquil and receives in home therapy from the state. It has been speculated that she is on the autism spectrum. Though her father and I suspect that the issues were more environmental than developmental. We are currently making arrangements to get her re-evaluated. I really want to change her life for the better, but I am worried that we won't be able to. We are in the process of turning the play room into her first room, and getting her first bed. For 2 years now she has slept, with her mother, on a mattress on the living room floor, or on a couch. Her whole little world has been flipped on its head, and yet she is amazingly happy, and calm about it. My daughter too has been amazingly accepting and resilient in this situation, granted it is only day 2, but still. Chuck and I have been freaking out! Of course, that is our jobs as parents. Which, I guess, is why MY mother is freaking out. She is being less than supportive about the whole situation. She is scared about how Chuck's daughter, and her unstable mother, may affect my daughter. Of course I am too, but I have thought all of that through already. As I stated in my I Am OK With My Elephant post, I AM capable of taking care of myself and my daughter. I am able to deal with difficult situations. I am strong, I am smart, and I have depression. I am treated and I am not afraid to ask for help. In fact, both Chuck and I have been overwhelmed by the out pouring of support and help that my friends have offered since journey started a few weeks ago. My counselor has been instrumental in helping me keep my head together and even helped Chuck look for a new counselor for himself. My friends have called and messaged me to make sure we are ok. One friend gave me a whole pep-talk about how this was my chance to change this little girl's life and make a real difference. He told me how he thought I was a great mom and how this little girl REALLY needs people to love her right now. My cousin has been helping me negotiate the world of kids on the spectrum, and all the agencies that can help us. Another friend gave us a bed, and is lending us some clothes. My co-worker's mother wants to make both girls a quilt for their rooms. It is truly touching, and it gives me hope that we will be truly be able to make lemonade, for us and for this little girl. After all it is not her fault that all of this has happened. She deserves someone to do right by her. She deserves to be some one's priority. She deserves some stability, and some unconditional love. I hope we can do that for her. 

I am OK With My Elepant

Ok this one is shaping up to be a long one, but I feel like there are some important things things to talk about here. I hope I am able to pull it all thogether and have it make sense (especially since my head is a little fuzzy and I have a dog in my lap and a kid hanging on me and several texts from Chuck, all as I try too&amp;nbsp; write.)&lt;/p&gt;<br>
&lt;p&gt;Lately, I have been thinking a lot about mental health labels and public awareness&amp;nbsp; campains and how they affect empowerment. As a modern society we have come a long way in recognizing mental illness, diagnosing, and treating it. People are more in formed, more aware, and have more access to information on all subjects than ever before, but is all that information helping or hurting us? Below are two lists of symptoms of depression I found from credible sources online.&lt;/p&gt;<br>
&lt;p&gt;Symptoms of depression as reported be WebMD.&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;<br>
According to the National Institute of Mental Health, symptoms of depression may include the following: &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;<br>
difficulty concentrating, remembering details, and making decisions fatigue and decreased energy feelings of guilt, worthlessness, and/or helplessness feelings of hopelessness and/or pessimism insomnia, early-morning wakefulness, or excessive sleeping irritability, &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;<br>
restlessness loss of interest in activities or hobbies once pleasurable, including sex &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;<br>
overeating or appetite loss persistent aches or pains, headaches, cramps, or digestive problems that do not ease even with treatment persistent sad, anxious, or "empty" feelings thoughts of suicide, suicide attempts&amp;lt;/p&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;<br>
&amp;lt;p&amp;gt;Symptoms of depression as reported by The Mayo Clinc.&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;<br>
Depression symptoms include: &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;<br>
Feelings of sadness or unhappiness &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;<br>
Irritability or frustration, even over small matters&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;<br>
Loss of interest or pleasure in normal activities &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;<br>
Reduced sex drive &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;<br>
Insomnia or excessive sleeping &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;<br>
Changes in appetite &amp;amp;#8212;depression often causes decreased appetite and weight loss, but in some people it causes increased cravings for food and weight gain &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;<br>
Agitation or restlessness &amp;amp;#8212;for example, pacing, hand-wringing or an inability to sit still &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;<br>
Slowed thinking, speaking or body movements &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;<br>
Indecisiveness, distractibility and decreased concentration &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;<br>
Fatigue, tiredness and loss of energy &amp;amp;#8212;even small tasks may seem to require a lot of effort &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;<br>
Feelings of worthlessness or guilt, fixating on past failures or blaming yourself when things aren't going right &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;<br>
Trouble thinking, concentrating, making decisions and remembering&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;<br>
Frequent thoughts of death, dying or suicide &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;<br>
Crying spells for no apparent reason &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;<br>
Unexplained physical problems, such as back pain or headaches&amp;lt;/p&amp;gt;&lt;/p&gt;<br>
&lt;p&gt;And here is a tidbit about how clinical depression, as an illness, affects the work place. 213 million lost work days due to clinical depression, accourding to this articles that quotes a 1994 study.&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;<br>
&amp;lt;a href="http://http://www.referenceforbusiness.com/encyclopedia/A-Ar/Absenteeism.html"&amp;gt;http://www.referenceforbusiness.com/encyclopedia/A-Ar/Absenteeism.html&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/p&amp;gt;&lt;/p&gt;<br>
&lt;p&gt;While I recognize the need for the public to know and understand this information, I can't help but wonder if it isn't all just promoting the stereotype that depression makes you lazy, unreliable, disabled in some way. As though people who suffer from depression or other mental illness just put an extra burden on the work place, on society as a whole. Instead of helping people to understand how serious and real mental illness is, are people inturpreting it all as the mentally ill are just less capable? &lt;/p&gt;<br>
&lt;p&gt;Some times I'll ask Chuck things like, "Are we earthy crunchy parents?" "Do you think we are the weird liberal neighbors?" He always responds with "I reject all labels." Ok, well, that's great but what if your label is an actual diagnosis? No employer would look at some one with...say...high blood pressure and decide that made them unfit for their job, unless of course it is a job requiring top physical health for safety, but even then if it is controled by meds... However, if an employer was looking at two equal resumes, and (yes I know its illegal but I am trying to make a point) one applicant has high blood pressure and the other is biopolar...most people would assume the person with high blood pressure is more stable, more capable of doing a job under high stress, more reliable. </p>
<p>Often just getting a diagnosis of being mentally ill can make one feel less empowered. I know many times I have though of myself as "crazy" and Chuck hides his ADD from most people because he feels like they will judge him. Yet we are both fully capable of functioning. We are responsible parents, workers, pet owners and friends. We have a "normal" life, where frankly most people who know us do not know we both have a major mental health diagnosis, let alone more than one condition. We take our meds, go to therapy, go to our psych doc, and live our lives. It seems that those arround us are more affected by knowing our diagnosis than we are. My parents seems to think I need to be taken care of, watched over. They are constantly worried that Chuck has too much baggage to "take care of me and my daughter" but I am not asking him to take care of us. I am taking care of us. My sister is constantly reminding me of how capable I am, and how I shouldn't let anyone tell me I am thisa thing or that thing. But what if I am THAT THING? I do suffer from depression. I accept that. Does that make me any less capable? HELL no! If anything it has made me stronger, more educated, more resourceful. I have a special admiration for Ani Difranco because I find strength in her lyrics. You will find I quote her often, but one of my favorites is "I don't need anyone to hold me I can hold my own" and I believe it is true, and I have been told it is true by many people (Chuck included). </p>
<p>Empowerment is an important thing. Writing this blog has made me feel empowered and validated. Music makes me feel empowered, and yoga, and meditation, and hearing other's storied of their own empowerment. In that spirt here is list of people how had a mental illness who made major contributions to our world:
Abraham Lincoln had severe deppression & suicidal thoughts.
Virginia Wolf- drark drastic mood swings
Lionel Aldridge-was schizophrenic
Eugene O'Neil a famous playwright- clinical depression
Beethoven-bipolar
VanGogh, Isaac Newton, Hemmingway, Tennessee Williams, Winston Churchill, Sylvia Plath all had mental health conditions yet all contributed to society in different, amazing ways. (The link below links to the NAMI article I got the list from) no matter what they did, clearly they are capable people, just like me.
&lt;p&gt;&amp;lt;p&amp;gt;&amp;lt;a href="http://http://www.nami.org/Template.cfm?Section=Helpline1&amp;amp;template=/ContentManagement/ContentDisplay.cfm&amp;amp;ContentID=4858"&amp;gt;http://www.nami.org/Template.cfm?Section=Helpline1&amp;amp;amp;template=/ContentManagement/ContentDisplay.cfm&amp;amp;amp;ContentID=4858&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/p&amp;gt;&lt;/p&gt;</p>

What to do Once the Elephant is Seen

Dealing with your own metal illness is a challenge, but dealing with someone else is even harder, especially when it is severe and it affects your child. What if to make things even MORE complicated you are no longer involved with the metally ill person? Where do the rights of the sick person end and the rights of the child begin? This is a question mental rights and family advocates, child services, and Chuck and I try to negotiate regularly. Over the last week it is a question that seems to have taken over or lives. We have know that Chuck's ex has several major mental health diagnosises, and we have had increasing concern for his daughter and the way they live. However, we believed his ex was being treated and getting help fr om the state in dealiing with their daughter. So we felt there was a safety net in place for them both. This week learned things have taken a major turn for the worse. We wonder what is best for everyone involved. Is someone with as severe a mental illness able to take care of a child? How much damage has been done already and how do you help a young child overcome something so dramatic as dealing with a sick parent? Can you explain to a mother who has little concept of the world outside her own deeply confused mind what danger she might be putting her child in? What is the affect of introducing a child who has been in such an unstable enviornment have on an already established family that has other children in the home? How do you coparent with someone who seems to be so removed from reality, possibly pathological? How do you keep you family safe from the toxic affects of the other person's illness? Living a considerable distance from the child and her mother how do we determine how much danger she is in? How sick her mother truly is? Or do we trust an overloaded child services case manager to determine that? I can't answer ANY of these questions, but I know they have been spinning in a continual loop in my head for the last week. I suspect they will continue to spin for weeks to come.

Drugging the Elephant

antidepressant use climbs as primary care doctors do the prescribing

It was interesting that I found this article today. Chuck and I were just talking about this last night. I believe that the problem here is two ply. First, we are lazy Americans who want a magic pill to make everything better. That pill has side affects, that's okay there is a pill for that too. We do not want to take a good long look at ourselves or the direction we have gone as a society and make the hard decisions we should be making. Or healing the the wounds we should be healing. We want to skim the surface, of our emotions, and continue taking the pill or eating the food, or buying the products that make us feel good for the moment. It is ALL about instant gratification. Plus, we are egotistical as Americans. We believe we know better than the rest of the world, and that there is no need to look at the way other cultures maintain their health, mental or physical, so holistic and whole person approaches are ignored. We treat the illness or the symptoms, but not the whole person. We place NO emphasis on how the mind affects the body. Reflection, emotional awareness, and depression are all considered weakness (especially among men) in our society. Meditation, mindfulness, yoga... are all more excepted, but mostly considered "new age" and not give much thought as viable options for most people. Proper diet and exercise are not as focused on as being "skinny" is. No one seems to care that ALL of that affects our moods. Don't get me wrong I am FAR from being Tom Cruise on this issue. I have been on antidepressants since I was 19. There is a very real need for them as PART of treatment for metal illness, not as the only treatment.

I think the second reason is that there is still so much of a stigma about metal illness and depression. People don't want to admit they have a problem, to themselves or to others. It makes it incredibly hard to get help and maintain your mental health if you do not have a recovery plan and support team. It is much easier to tell work, family, friends that you are going to you PCP for a check up then to go to a Psychiatrist and separate therapist to be diagnosed and treated properly. That is why it is so, so very important that we continue to make strides on improving the basic understanding and education of metal illness today and depression. You CAN NOT just snap out of it, you are NOT crazy if you need help, and you CAN get treatment and feel better.

Dealing with an Elephant

Tonight is an especially hard night. I had a bad day at work, also a busy and exhausting day. All I wanted to do was come home to my happy little family, or at least what I thought was my happy little family. When I got home Chuck had cleaned up and had dinner made. My daughter ran out to meet me in the driveway with a hug. It seemed like just the retreat from my crazy day that I was needed. But then the tide turned and my daughter started acting crazy and testing my nerves. As soon as I got her to bed and came downstairs to finally spend some time with Chuck, the thing I was looking forward to all day, he starts in on me about the house and the dogs. Seemed as though he had been storing it up all evening...of course I get pissed and throw a loose my temper, because frankly that is what I do best. all said and done, I feel horrible and I am alone. crying.

I am thinking about my old habits of cutting, but knowing that is not an option I just crying and hoping the sleeping meds kick in soon.

The truth is I kinda saw this coming. Chuck is home a lot now that he is not working, our house is less than organized and the animals are a handful. It is hard to take care of a house, pets, dinner, and help raise a child. Lots of stay at home moms and dads will tell you that. It is normal to feel burnt out or just flat out get tired of taking care of everyone. I try to tell him over and over how grateful I am, but I know from experience, some times even that doesn't help. Likewise, it is hard to work all day then come home to all the needs of the house and family. There is a lot of pressure to make the small family company I work for...well, work. Since it is our only income currently.

Meanwhile, I have felt myself feeling less and less stable as of late. I have rages. They generally happen when I have tried all my coping mechanisms without results, and/or I am totally overwhelmed and tired (ie- my tool bag is empty). Currently, I feel all of the above. I feel myself ready to fly off the handle at any given moment. I am also finding myself feeling increasingly depressed. It is like I see the tailspin coming, but I can't seem to pull out of it. The fighting is increasing with Chuck, and my normal calm mothering style is more erratic. There is more yelling over all and it makes me feel like a horrible partner and mom. How can I expect to raise a happy healthy kid if I can't deal with my own emotions? It breaks my heart, and makes me feel more helpless and weak. What do I do? How do I regain control of my own emotional well being? I have counseling on Friday. I hope to be able to get a plan together. So far it seems all she has been able to do is help me through one crisis after another. I am tired of crisi and constant drama! Where is my little slice of happy? My mental illness makes me feel weak and cazy in the most negative sense of the word. I hope that someone is ready this blog, and I hope it is someone like me. Someone, who will suddenly feel less alone, less weak, less crazy. And even if not, I am thankful to have this blog as an outlet tonight. I way to deal with my pain that makes me feel braver & stronger.

Don't Rain On My Parade

Today's elephant is self-esteem. Not just our own, but other people's and how it affects us and our daily lives. I am not one of those people who is able to tune out other people's negativity out. I wish I were, but I find more often it cuts right through me. Take yesterday as an example, I was in a pretty good mood. Having an ok kind of a day. Then near the end of the day, one person, who was apparently have a worse day, decided to share with me. I did react with "that was just rude" which was met with more nasty comments, and in a mater of 2 minutes time my whole mood and outlook had changed. My fiance has read about Highly Sensitive People http://www.hsperson.com/ and wonders if I may be in that camp. Either way, yesterdays encounter though only about 5 minutes in total length left me in a bad mood and feeling bad about myself for hours after. I know logically that everyone has their own issues, and while it is not right to take them out on others, it is not anything personal toward me. Yet when it comes from someone you are close to, and is about your appearance, inelegance, or life it is hard NOT to take it personally. So how do you not let it ruin your day? How do you not let someone who's personal self-esteem or mental state is unstable take you down when they lash out at you in a personal or abusive way? Is it simply a mater of having enough self-esteem stored up to withstand the blow?

Currently, my fiance (who we will call Chuck) has been laid off. His job is something he has struggled with since we met. It is also, as with most men, a major source of his self-esteem. I know he often worries that he has let me down, that he is not contributing enough to our family. He feels badly that he did not finish his degree, and he is angry with himself sometimes for not "living up to his potential". He feels depressed being home all day long while I am at work. As a couple we struggle with all these things, in addition to the stress that a dip in his income has caused. About a month ago we started couple's counseling to help us communicate about and deal with these issues. Feeling "not good enough" is a constant struggle for us both. It makes us defensive, depressed, and extra sensitive, making it harder to communicate. It often seems to cause us to pull away from each other at a time when we need to be supporting each other. One of my former counselors once told me that each person has an emotional bank account. When yours is empty it makes it impossible for you to make withdraws from it in order to make deposits in someone else's account. A new twist on the old you can't love someone else, until you love yourself. But what if the person you are dealing with is unaware that their bank account is low, or even that they are making you feel bad? On the flip side, sometimes overdrawing your account slightly can have big returns. This morning, knowing I had felt especially bad last night, and that I have been struggling with the fact that I recently gained weight, Chuck gave me a hug and told me how pretty I look today. It improved my mood and made me feel ok with myself. In return, I am now able to be more loving and supportive toward him through out the day. Instead of being introverted and depressed all day.