Let's Keep Talking

January 25^th, 2017 was the annual Bell Let’s Talk day sponsored by Bell Canada to promote mental health awareness and raise money for mental health initiatives across Canada. It is a great cause and an easy way to spread the word and share stories about mental health, different statistics, and social issues relating to the world of mental illness. The only problem was that after a bombardment of posts and messages and snippets across various sources of social media – today my feed was  almost silent. No more stories being told. No more statistics or awareness being spread.

But I still want to talk about it.

I don’t care about the hashtags or the re-tweets or the acknowledgement. I don’t care about the branding behind the initiative.

I care about sharing stories – telling mine and hearing others. I care about opening up communications within my social circles and beyond so that those currently suffering in silence, know that they aren’t alone.

I want to talk because today I am suffering.

I want to talk because today I was shrouded in a big black rain cloud – covered in depression, anxiety and panic attacks – and yet I forced the mask into place and I forced myself to carry on.

I want to talk because I know the feelings of loneliness and despair. I know the isolation and the twisted thinking that comes with it. I know the push and the pull – to both try to find help and yet shove anyone away who tries to help.

I know the anguished cries, the curled up ball on the bed, the prayers that feel unanswered. I know because today that was me.

I know the guilt over taking time for self-care and trying to do what you need to feel better. The tiredness of trying to keep up with everyone around you, feeling like a snail in a cheetah race. I know the looks you get when you say you had a nap - again. 

I know the confusion. I know the chaos. I know how it feels to be spinning in every direction while the world around you appears to walk in straight lines.

I know the anger and the sadness and the betrayal that work their way into your heart, that taint the way that you see your friends, your families, and your loved ones.

I know the insanity. The way that nothing makes sense, but it all makes sense. The way that you try to explain it and it sounds like gibberish – like back and forth, and up and down, and drama and despair and nonsensical nothingness.

I know the efforts to help – the hurt in their eyes as they wonder why. Why you feel this way when things are so good. Why you can’t figure things out. Why the usual coping strategies suddenly stop working. Why you are hurting again. Why nothing they can do can help you.

I know.

I want to talk about it because I know I’m not alone. I want to talk about it because I have a voice – because I know what it is like to feel the stigma and the self-condemnation due to a chemical imbalance. I know that it is important.

I want to talk about it... and I want to listen. I want you to know that you are not alone and you don't need to suffer in silence.

Today was a bad day.

I’m not afraid to talk about it. 

Because a bad day can look like any one of these: 

 

So Let's Keep Talking. 

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Super-Mom and Depression

I've been diagnosed as having both Bipolar Disorder and Borderline Personality Disorder. My moods swing from manic highs to depressing lows with angry bursts between. I have good days and I have bad days and I have days where I feel like I'm barely present. But between all of that I'm so much more.
I'm a woman with a job at a bookstore, a person with interests and hobbies, and (when the mood allows) dreams and goals. I have an amazing husband and four beautiful children. I have a life. And sometimes that is hard to remember, hard to even accept, and especially hard to maintain while I'm sick.
It's currently Thursday... and it's March break for the kids. I love my kids. I really do. I love spending time with them and taking them places, snuggling on the couch or doing crafts with them and taking them exploring. But this March break has been a little less of all that and they've noticed. Thankfully I'm feeling a little better than I have been, but it still isn't easy. It's still a struggle when you want to be the super-mom you previously were, when you want to play with the kids and engage them the way that you know that they deserve but just can't force yourself to do it. It's just another way that being sick has affected my life, another reason why I need to keep fighting, to beat the depression that is still making life more than just difficult.
And that's what I'm doing. I'm fighting it - fighting myself by engaging first and foremost in self care, and in sticking as much to routine as is possible with four kids jumbling things up. Secondly, I'm challenging myself. It's not much but instead of giving in to the need to crumble, to fall apart and let depression win, I'm setting daily challenges. On Monday I couldn't quite make it. So we had a quiet day, filled with movies and video games and more self care - tea and writing and reading. Tuesday went a little better and I successfully completed my goal for the day - getting out of the house with the kids and doing something fun by going swimming at the YMCA. Wednesday was a quiet morning because I did have to work all afternoon/evening and that was my simple goal - not to overdo it so that today I could complete more 'mom' oriented goals. I'm happy to report that it was successful, that I dropped my #2 child off at a friends house (sometimes even that is a huge goal in itself!) and the three others and I went to the park with a friend. It doesn't sound like much. But each challenge I've set for myself, each day that I have fought back against the depression is a huge victory.
It means I can do this.
I can be the same things I always was - wife, mom, creative mind, hard worker, etc... I might even end up stronger, better than I was. Like any illness it won't happen overnight, recovery is a process, but I can get there. I will get there.

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Sometimes

Sometimes there is no choice.

Sometimes it doesn’t matter whether you work harder at making things better… it doesn’t change the feelings.

Sometimes it doesn’t matter that you put on a happy face and pretend to be happy because you hope that you will become happy.

Sometimes it doesn’t matter how hard you try to pull yourself up and out of that low place, because the more you grasp at things to pull you up, the more things pile down on top of you.

Sometimes depression is just depression. It’s an overwhelming and painful pressure that never lifts, that completely drains you and becomes a part of you.

Sometimes you fight it with everything in you and yet it doesn’t let you out of its grasp.

Sometimes you just want it all to go away.

I’ve been having a tough time lately. I felt it coming at me and I did everything right. I adjusted my routine, kept up my meds, and kept my meetings with my counselors. I spoke about my mood with my husband and blogged about the edges of my depression; I was determined to stay ahead of it, to keep it away.

But sometimes it isn’t as simple as being determined. Sometimes no matter what you do, depression can creep up and slowly take over your life… it makes you want to give up.

Here’s where it gets hard. Because when you feel completely alone, lost in the world that keeps on going around you while you are stuck in this place, you want to open up. You want people to understand and to be able to help you. But it isn’t that simple. Because as much as you want people near, you also want to push them away. As much as you want to get better, to be happier, to be stable – the amount of effort it takes to simply get up in the morning sucks any effort out of you.

Sometimes it just takes too much.

Sometimes you don’t know where to turn to. You might pick up the phone, that friend who said to call her anytime – but you’re so tired and you just want to give up, you don’t want to be that nuisance. And what would you say anyways, ‘Hey, you said to call and I did because I feel so terrible that I want to die.’ It isn’t that simple. It is that terrifying. And so the feelings get pressed down – especially the darkest ones, the ones that we know we need help dealing with but are so frightening to us because we know, those are the thoughts that will get us locked away and looked at with pity. And they keep getting pushed further and further within us, dragging our mood down even lower because we are stuck and we don’t know what to do anymore.

Sometimes we need to talk about these things.

I need to talk about these things. It’s because I’ve felt them, been feeling them. No, I’m not suicidal at the moment, but it doesn’t mean I haven’t had dark thoughts. It doesn’t mean that I haven’t been struggling in a place that is invisible to the outside world. The battle is real. And I’m fighting it. I’m struggling through it day by day, and hour by hour. And I’m making it. But so many people aren’t. I’ve been there. And that’s why I’m talking about it. That’s why I’m sharing the daily struggle here. I want people to see what can’t be seen, to know that even though I may look okay on the outside, there is a war waging on my mental state. That it isn’t simply about trying more or working harder. Depression is a very real illness. And while I fight to get better, I want to give it a voice.

Sometimes we need to talk about it.

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The Fight with Depression

I woke up this morning, groggy and exhausted. I tried to get up but it took several attempts and even when I was finally able to get going, my movements were sluggish. Last night I decided not to go walking this morning because I work at eleven and I'm not feeling the greatest mood wise. My kids and husband got off to work and school at their usual time and I had to fight the urge to crawl back under the covers of my bed until the last possible minute before work.

I don't want to admit it, but my mood has dipped down again over the last couple of days and I'm feeling the edges of depression reaching for me. 

I figure I'll give it another day or two but for the moment I'm worried. For the moment, my logical side is still somewhat present and can see what's going on, even though I naturally try to deny that anything is wrong. 

It's a difficult topic to talk about. If I know that depression is coming for me, why don't I just snap out of it... change something to make it go away? If I can see it, can feel it... am I really that depressed? Sadly, these aren't just questions that other people ask... they're questions that I still ask myself. The real problem is that when I'm depressed, my logical side isn't in control; sometimes it's not there at all. My mind and my emotions don't work together very well and by the time I can see depression looming in the distance... well, it's already a little closer than I thought. It's already taken over some parts of me. It's why I find myself overwhelmed and frustrated over the smallest things, why I find myself crying again, and why the simplest tasks become mountains that I have to overcome. Getting out of bed... brushing my teeth... having a shower... getting myself out to work... each task is a marathon I have to run and each task I try to complete wears me out a little more so it gets harder and harder to push myself through it. Eventually there's nothing left in me to fight it. 

I admit I'm fighting hard right now. And I admit that there's a part of me that doesn't want to fight it, that's already being sucked down into the depths of despair and the rest of me is struggling to hang onto the ledge. I'm not supposed to be feeling this way. The medications are supposed to be doing their job, they are supposed to be keeping me somewhat level. That's why I'm not giving it long before I seek help... right now my logical side is still fighting to be present. It's why I'm talking to my husband, taking time for me and watching closely. I don't want to lose this battle and will call in reinforcements if necessary. 

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Those Quiet Moments

I'm curled up in the corner of the sofa, a blanket spread across my lap and a mug of hot tea beside me. It's 10:00am on a Thursday and the kids are in school, my husband at work. Aside from the sound of the laundry tumbling in the dryer, it's silent in the house.
I pick up my book, read a couple of paragraphs and then set it down because I can't focus on it. I open up my computer and pull up the writing I began months ago, hoping that I can lose myself in the words and yet, nothing happens; my fingers are frozen over the keys, unable to type a single word. I put the computer away and stand up, I move to the kitchen and inspect the cupboards to see what I can bake - I've always loved baking - but the minutes tick by as I stand there until I eventually close the cupboards again and turn the kettle back on. I'll have another cup of tea. While I wait for the kettle to boil I look at the stack of dishes in the sink, the toys scattered around the living room, the dust collecting on the bookshelf. I think I should do something, clean something and I start. And then I stop. And then I just stand there, utterly overwhelmed as the tears build in my eyes.
I can't do this. I don't want to feel this way any longer.
I feel the familiar feelings as they creep over me. I feel frustrated by my inability to make a decision, to simply complete tasks, to do something - anything. I feel overwhelmed by the to-do list that's getting longer. I feel guilty because I should just do it and I force myself to try again before I return to my spot on the sofa and close my eyes because I'm suddenly exhausted. And then I feel lazy and useless and worthless and a mess - like a complete failure at life.
But I'm not.
I've forgotten that I am still recovering from a severe illness, a complete breakdown.
I've forgotten that it takes small steps and perspective.
I've forgotten everything I have done.
I took my medications. I got out of bed this morning despite the weight on my body that told me to just stay there and sleep. I showered and dressed. I got my kids and husband off to work/school and I went to the local hockey arena and went walking. I stopped at the grocery store on the way back home and picked up a few things. And that's just today. In the past few months I have gone from wanting to kill myself to wanting to live - and to live a good life.
I'm slowly learning that I need to stop comparing myself between what I was like 'before' and what I'm like now but it's not easy to do, especially when it comes to my expectations of myself.
But I'm working on it. And when I get overwhelmed I try to remind myself of where I've come back from, and where I'm heading. It won't always be easy, especially in the quiet moments when my mind has too much time and not enough focus, but eventually I'll get there.
So for now, I sit and I drink my tea. I make a list of things that must be completed and I tackle them one thing at a time, resting in between. And I write about how I'm feeling because I have to remind myself. Things will get better, they're already getting there. In these quiet moments I just need to remember that it takes time. That I am strong and worthy and going to beat this. It just takes time.

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Blogging While Down

Initially I started this blog in a journal style, not intending to reach huge number or anything, but to have an outlet where I could describe what it is like to live with these mental health disorders. For the few posts I've made I've enjoyed it and I've been completely open and honest. But then I started feeling a little down, and then a little more down and so I stopped.
Now to be fair, it wasn't really a conscious choice not to blog. Unfortunately depression is more than feeling a little sad and not really feeling like doing something. Depression hit me so hard again that I have wound up in the emergency room of the hospital twice this month for severe depression and suicidal thoughts. On days where I am here at home, I struggle to wake up in the morning. I have to force myself out of bed, to get dressed and to complete routine tasks in the house that should feel like nothing, that I've done as long as I can remember. But it isn't that simple. Loading the dishwasher feels like I'm climbing Mount Everest, switching the laundry like running a marathon. Even taking care of basic needs like eating and drinking water are forced and miserable and often leave me feeling sick when I am able to get something down.
And then there is the nagging thought in the back of my head. The one that shouldn't be there, that tells me I've had enough of this. That tries to convince me I'm not strong enough to keep going.
Suicide.
I'm going to admit, the right now I'm struggling with this. I don't know if it's the Borderline Personality Disorder or just plain old Depression that is doing it, but my thoughts are almost split. Logically I know I have things to live for. I have a husband and kids who I love, I have a job, I'm still fairly young. But emotionally. Emotionally I'm drained. I'm completely exhausted and it seems like it doesn't matter what I do to pull myself up and out of this depression - it only gets worse. I just want it to end.
Now I want to be clear. These are feelings that I have recently been struggling with. It doesn't mean that I am giving in to them, or that I am unsafe at this moment. I am still pushing through. Fighting against myself for my life. I am receiving help from the local hospital's community outreach team. I am about to begin one on one counselling, and am on waiting lists for group counselling. I am attending support groups to try and help myself deal with these thoughts.
So if I'm getting all of this support, why am I blogging about these feelings? I'm writing them out because they are real. Because it is something that millions of people go through. I know (logically) that I am not alone in feeling this way. The same way that I know that I need help and I am going to do everything I can to get help. To get better. It just takes time. So in that time I've decided I am not going to stop blogging just because I'm feeling down. I am going to keep going when I'm up, when I'm down and when I'm level.

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