always look on the bright side of life

Wednesday, 12/30/15, 6:23pm, 7:51pm

I've mostly been better since this morning. At various points I've felt depressed, mostly because of the head cold, but in general, it's been ok. I've enjoyed some quality friend contact today, one over text and one over email which restored my faith in friendship. We ordered Chinese food for dinner, which was certainly not good for my weight loss challenge, but it was what I needed. RG's fortune made for an interesting conversation point.

He didn't know what it meant of course. So I took a stab at explaining it first, but it was interesting to see how different a mindset Nasser had about it. I took the meaning of "it gets worse before it gets better" whereas Nasser took it as "it gets better, even after the darkest troubles". Totally glass half empty versus half full. It made me stop though. I used to consider myself a glass half full kinda gal, but apparently that has changed since my depression. It was good to recognize the mindset I had when explaining the fortune to RG, and try to consciously change it, by taking on the new meaning Nasser provided.

Maybe that can work in my life. Some of the mindfulness exercises are just that, working to put the positive spin on things in life, rather than the negative. And it's not like I always fail to do that, and that's why I'm depressed. Sometimes my illness works to prevent me from doing that. But it's important to remind myself that every time I recover from being depressed, I fight my illness that much more, I make it easier to recover next time, and I make it easier for my brain to take the positive spin on things.

When people say you can control the way you feel about things, that often makes me feel defensive. Like hey, there are many times where I can't control the way I feel about things, and I fail, and I get depressed. It helps to view it in the regard that, wait, I do it when I recover though. And "getting depressed" isn't a failure. Maybe I just need to look at it as a success when I do recover.

Hopefully some of this rambling makes sense. All this to say just what my post title says. (You must say it in your head to the Monty Python tune of course...)

Shorter post yet again. That's my style these days. But I'm leaving you today, dear blog, with a contented thank you for helping me today. I recovered enough this morning to have a good day, despite the head cold. And as we've just discovered, that recovery gives me a success for today. Awesome.

rows of houses, all bearing down on me

Wednesday, 12/30/15, 11:53am

I think my sickness is making me depressed. I haven't been able to exercise since Monday but I haven't really lost my appetite so I've gained weight, I've had head cloudiness since yesterday morning, I haven't had coffee since Monday, and I'm starting to care about stupid petty things.

I've mostly been off facebook for, I don't know how long, over a week now? I like that I don't remember exactly how long. But I've cheated a little. The past few days I've sneaked on to look at stuff, not to be active in any way, not liking posts, but to "catch up" or something. I think I should be resisting that even. Because then it makes me feel ugly, petty thoughts. Stupid thoughts like, are any of my facebook friends that I thought were my real friends missing me? Facebook friends are facebook friends. Those that do miss me, know how to get in touch with me, right? It's so stupid. I hate that I can feel this way over something so stupid as facebook. Ugh.

I don't even want to say it, but I also care about the number of reads I get on my blog posts. I don't have high expectations or anything, but I hate that I shared this with a number of people that as far as I know have not read it. Stupid, stupid thoughts. It doesn't matter who reads my blog. It doesn't matter how many people like a facebook post. I should be living for myself not for others. But this method of quantifying the number of friends you have, by likes, or comments, or reads, or whatever, is mind-numbingly stupid. Have I mentioned the word "stupid" with regards to this way of determining whether or not one has friends?

New goal. No more facebook, not even to secretly spy. As for the blog? Who cares who reads it, right?

I hate feeling headachy, cloudy head, stuffy nose, puffed up eyes, achy body (probably mostly from skiing rather than the sickness). I hate it. I want to be better. I've thought up workouts that would pull be out of this funk, but I don't physically feel like I can actually handle any of them right now. Ugh. Stupid stupid sickness.

Short posts lately. Can't seem to handle more than this right now though.

and we lived beneath the waves in our yellow submarine

Tuesday, 12/29/15, 7:32pm

I am sick. Head cold, borderline flu, whatever it is, it's been awhile since I've had one of these. It's bad enough I was whining this morning at breakfast in anticipation of the activities we had planned for the day, including seeing the new Star Wars movie, eating lunch at a restaurant (I call that an "activity" because eating out with the kids at a new place tends to be a challenge... and it was), and getting haircuts for the boys (also a challenge because RG hates them). Bad enough I've taken Advil twice today with little success (perhaps I should go for Dayquil tomorrow). Bad enough I needed a nap after said activities.

It's not that horrible and really I have no right to complain, but... I hate being sick. :(

I think it's hitting Nasser more this evening as well; he had to lay down in bed due to some nausea.

And the kids... seem totally healthy???

So yeah, the kids got a lot of video game time this afternoon... again. They've been getting a lot of it this holiday break, Nasser and I have each gotten a good amount of me time. And we've still done other stuff. Yesterday was a ski day for RG and me (him in snowboarding lessons, me getting personal ski time, woopee!!). Nasser and TK played a lot of games around the house, went for a walk in the snow.

The last few days have been... nice.

I love having all of us at home. I love getting down time. I love getting some productive time. I love getting some quality family time.

It's going to be a bit of a crush to all of us when life goes back to normal next week. Maybe by then we'll be ready for it. For now, I'm trying to savor the time we're getting. Despite being sick. Ugh.

No more for now. Things have mostly been going well, just hiccups every so often if I feel like we're not being productive enough, or anxiety over the stuff we're trying to do.

sha la la, la la la la, la la la la tee da. la tee da.

Saturday, 12/26/15, 1:48pm

Today is a good day. Christmas, in general, was pretty good this year. I think I was preparing myself for it being super stressful, and it was better than my expectations. Don't get me wrong, I did start having an anxiety attack yesterday morning in the midst of all the present opening, but my anti-anxiety medication and some deep breathing made the difference there. I've been trying to take time for myself too. I got a workout in Christmas Eve and one today. Nasser's been doing a ton with the kids so that I can take more breaks, but then the kids have also been playing a lot of video games over the past several days. We don't intend to let that be the trend all of the holiday break, but a few days with several hours a day isn't so bad, right? I remind myself that keeping my sanity at this time is important too.

The holidays can be really hard. All the consumerism, accumulation of presents, trying to celebrate with people far away, trying to make it perfect for our kids, while feeling all the stress and expectations to be happy. It can really be too much sometimes. I think in previous years, I expected too much out of the holidays. I've said before that I can really be a winter person, but part of it is the holidays. I love the Christmas season in a lot of ways, but I block out the stress when I think about the season. And every year, I expect it all to go perfectly, but then I inevitably get stressed, something veers from the plan, and I feel like a failure. This year, I expected to be late to the family get-togethers (while planning for early), I didn't sign up for all that much cooking, I baked way fewer batches of cookies than normal, I expected the bottles of homemade vanilla to break on their way to Chicago but ended up pleasantly surprised when they didn't, I tried to worry less about how people were going to like our carefully thought-out gifts, I didn't try to schedule our days ridiculously packed, and I'm accepting that our kids love video games and allowing them some of that is A-ok.

It worked.

Surprisingly, unexpectedly, joyously, this year was better.

Rationally, I know that a lot of my issues stem from having expectations for myself, for those around me, for events, etc that aren't realistic. But it's hard to change those expectations. I didn't consciously decide to lower all my expectations for the holidays this year. But I think I've finally learned from the past. And I think Nasser expected me to have a hard time, so everytime I got close, he was there saying, ok what can we do to prevent this? Let's have you take a break, get a shower in, whatever I needed.

I will blog more later. For today, I'm keeping this short and enjoying my lazy day. I suppose I don't even need to call it lazy. I got a run in, in the cold and snow; that's damn successful!

Oh, and here are some more tattoo drawings. I don't love today's attempts, and I learned that drawing on my foot is awfully difficult.

All is calm, all is bright

Friday, 12/25/15, 12:39am (00:39 on Nasser's phone, what a weird-looking time)

Merry Christmas, world.

We have finished prepping and wrapping gifts for the morning. Heh. Finally. Because stocking gifts and those for our immediate family take last priority over getting ready everything for everyone else. And we inevitably have stuff arriving from Amazon on Christmas Eve still; that happens every year.

So far so good for me with the holiday. No major breakdowns. Let's all hope the rest of today goes just as smoothly.

Good night, world.

let it be

Wednesday, 12/23/15, 2:47pm

Today is a fight. I am close to a deep hole, it's there, I am on the edge, and every so often I start slipping. I kick my legs as the dirt under them falls into the abyss and reach my arms up to grab a tree root, desperate to hold on. So far I've been able to grasp the root as Nasser is reaching down to help me.

I worry about people near and dear to me. If someone I love is having troubles in their life, I want to help, I want to pick up their troubles and shoulder them myself, but of course I can't. But I put these expectations on myself that I can help more, and I beat myself up for not helping enough. I do this with Adam (see Adam's story for details there); I do this with my friend who was going through a mental crisis; I do this about volunteering for things (as Nasser jokingly reminded me today). It's something I do. I guess it's probably something that's not uncommon when we look at it on a macro scale. We all want to control things, change people, fix problems that are not within our control. I don't know why we do this but it's something many of us are constantly working on.

It's not to say that trying to change and fix problems in the world is a bad thing. As a society, we wouldn't be able to progress if we didn't keep working towards the better and improved. But we have to healthfully notice where and when we don't have control.

Stephen Covey (most famous perhaps for his "7 Habits of Highly Effective People"), provided a good mindset to all this. Picture 2 concentric circles. The inner circle is our circle of control in our lives, stuff that we can directly control. That's pretty much just actions and choices we can personally make, right? Then outside that circle of control is the circle of influence. To me that's actions and choices we can make with regards to the people around us, which we may or may not indirectly influence. Beyond the circle of influence is everything else out of our control. Check out Stephen Covey here if you're interested in more (you may want to check this out yourself because I might be explaining this concept totally wrong). Anyway, it's important to understand that there are things and people and problems that may be within our circle of influence but not within our circle of control. And then we need to understand those things and people and problems that aren't even within our circle of influence. Hard to swallow, right? I don't want to think that there's things within my circle of influence (like Adam sometimes) that maybe are just completely out of my control and influence. Or at least sometimes. I don't know.

This is one of those days I need to come back to my blog later.

I'm finally back, hours later at 10:04pm. I think I'm safely at least a foot or two away from the edge now after some quality friends time, some video chat time with Audra in S. Korea, and playing board game time with said friends.

I don't feel like I have any conclusion to the entire discussion of circle of control vs circle of influence vs out of my control. Somehow I need to get to a point of acceptance on what I have control over. The rational part of my brain understands this quite well. But the emotional part? Not so much. It's hard to have my emotional side not agreeing with my rational side. Unfortunately this happens a lot though.

I tend to feel angry with myself sometimes or specifically the emotional part of me. The rational part of me gets how I shouldn't let things affect me or tells me that certain things are out of my control, and yet, the emotional side just ignores all of that. I also shouldn't be hating on my emotional side, but then it's hard not to when it so often takes me down a painful path.

We're going to call this blog done for today. Yeah, that's right, right here and right now. I could delve deeper into my issues, but right now it's actually just depressing me. And I don't want to fall down that hole. Again.

Coming up with my post title, I've spent awhile listening to and reading the dark, deep meaning of various Radiohead songs. But Nasser helped me with the suggestion of something much more optimistic.

as we dream by the fire

Monday, 12/21/15, 4:53pm

Our house is a mess. And for once it's not stressing me out. Right now, it's a happy house, a joyful house. Nasser is reading the 3rd Harry Potter book aloud to the boys. And although I should be gathering up dishes from the table, emptying the dishwasher, refilling it, cleaning the house, whatever, I am choosing instead to sit and blog. I'm looking around at my house, and today, the mess made me smile. Today's blog is being used to "become present".

I use the term "becoming present" to reference a coping mechanism I learned with my first good therapist, Celia. (She was fantastic, we clicked, she understood me, but she left our insurance just before TK was born. Thankfully I've had two wonderful therapists since then including the current one.) I've discussed this technique with several therapists and friends under various methods of achieving basically the same thing. It's tied in strongly with mindfulness. When I become present, I notice my surroundings. I empty my mind of everything else and just think about what's happening around me in the present. Today I'm sitting at the our counter height kitchen table, with my feet resting below on the chair. Here's my view:

Later on, at 6:18pm, I finally get a chance to go back to my blog. This is often the case, that I finish my blog over several sittings. It's nice to get back to my blog and not really feel too differently about the world. It can change that quickly, but I'm glad that today, I'm still feeling content with my life.

Back to "becoming present". Sometimes I simply take notice of my surroundings, sometimes I pop a mint in my mouth and notice all the sensations around the taste and feel and smell of the mint. The technique, as I understand it, works to empty your mind of all the worry and anxiety; you focus on something else, something impartial, something not judgmental, something not emotional. I like the metaphorical aspect of "becoming present" and how that helps to stop the worry around past or future events.

I've tried "becoming present" many times with success, some without, or at least not right away. Today, I am practicing "becoming present" or mindfulness (especially good to notice or be mindful while you eat; good practice, it makes you appreciate your food more, and it's been shown to be healthier). By practicing it when I'm fine, it is like muscle memory for when I'm not fine. I don't practice "as often as I should", or maybe it's better to say "as often as I'd like to", but I think the blogging is helping me with that.

There's another technique from therapy that I've been thinking about a lot lately. With the therapist Celia, again, I created a "safe place" for myself in my mind. It's a place where I feel totally and completely safe and peaceful and content. It's a wonderful place and I have envisioned the whole thing. I'm not going to tell you here what my safe place is (that would kinda make it less "safe" in my mind), but snow is involved. And specifically snowflakes. Snow falling to the ground is a bit of imagery that is extremely calming to me. Of course it goes along with all the things I like about snow, cozy sweatshirts, hot chocolate and tea, warm cookies, the holidays, snow sports like skiing and snowshoeing and sledding, soft socks, hot tubs, warm baths, being snuggled up in the blankets. :) Hah, yeah. Apparently I love winter.

For many years I've kinda loved the idea of getting a tattoo. They fascinate me a little, and I've done henna a few times before, but I've never really known what I would want to get permanently. Well, it may have to be a snowflake or two, folks. Yeah I'm weird like that.

I'm not sure I'm ready for a tattoo. For now, I've really enjoyed drawing them on myself. I've been using a fine tip pen, sometimes sharpies. So far I've loved drawing them on my hand (I've been told "Wow, first tattoo, and you're thinking of going with your hand?" to which I answered "Haha, yup!"), and I plan to start drawing them on my feet and collarbone as well. But I want it to be a place where I can see it and use it as a reminder to myself of my safe place. As I draw them more and more, I'm going to use this to see what it is I really like; maybe I'll start buying henna eventually. I'm going through this process slowly, no spur of the moment tattoos for me, people, don't worry. And I still very well may decide not to do it. Here are a few fun renditions though. :)

I didn't intend to make this blog post about coping mechanisms, but they've also been on my mind lately when I've been talking to a friend about my blog. And I've been wanting to share my ideas about tattoos. Hah. That's probably the real reason.

I like today. We got some good shopping time in today while my parents watched our kids for several hours. It was really good to do the Target and Costco trips today before they get crazy crowded. And I made cabbage soup (for that whole dieting thing that's going on), and baked a pumpkin (ugh, I still have the scoop it all out and puree it), and got in some time on the stationary bike. Successful days (ones that have some clear and obvious successes) make for good days. Yay.

if I had a song, I'd sing it in the morning, I'd sing it in the evening

Saturday, 12/19/15, 4:46pm

It's an interesting kind of day today, some downs, but mostly ups. Or at least it looks that way because I'm doing well right now.

This morning, I got ridiculously mad at Nasser for (when looking at it more objectively now) some ridiculous reasons. He went into the study with TK to start doing kindergarten registration, a perfectly legitimate thing to do. I was mixing up some muffin batter for breakfast at the time and apparently got really mad at Nasser for disappearing. I started yelling at him from the kitchen, demanding "what are you doing?" and getting more and more worked up as I couldn't hear his responses over our Pandora music playing. The study has been a sore subject for us for awhile. It's been kinda the "junk room" for a long time, basically since we moved in to our house (which is 4 years this week, holy crap!). At least that's the way I view the room. Our desk and Nasser's computer (I call it his not because he doesn't let me use it- he does- but because he is one of those people who builds his own computers from the specific parts he picks out online) are in the study and Nasser has spent some happy hours in there (I don't say many hours because I don't let him play video games as much as he would like to I think).

Anyway, Nasser's computer was due for some upgrades (it really has been awhile since it was considered new) and he bought a few new parts. Our compromise on this was he had to do some study cleanup before he could put in the new parts. So he did. And I did. Quite a lot. But it's still not where I want it to be. So when he goes in there, even though it's on the main floor, I still feel like he's going into a black hole. For some weird reason (it's not the way I want it to be) I don't accept that room very well into the rest of the house. The other more real issue is that it's hard to talk to Nasser when he's in there from where I'm at. Since our house is rather "open floor plan", I can kinda talk to him from most parts of the house to most parts of the house. I can be in our bedroom upstairs with the door open, and still hear everything that's going on downstairs. I like it, and there are those few places in our house that are more private, harder to hear from, but the study is one of those places.

So this morning, I got mad at him for going into the study and not telling me that he was "going to disappear for awhile". We got through it ok but I was definitely down for a little while after that. I got a really nice long run (long for me) in today, actually my longest run of my life at 6.3 miles. I'm not much of a runner but I've been considering and thinking about some longer races next year. Mostly because I want to do longer triathlons. I did my first 2 triathlons this summer (I've done a couple relays before), but they were short. I'd like to get better and even more confident with the short ones as well, but I am loving having goals to work toward in my athleticism (for lack of a better word). I also did my first 10k this year which means so much to me because I had knee surgery almost 9 years ago and had sworn off running after that.

Today's run was... fantastic. I felt strong and confident running, not only was it my longest run, it was a run not a run/walk and on pavement (both successes for me after more recent injuries). I ran outside which was another bonus (I hate running on treadmills and usually avoid it at the expense of running). But... I also felt so much better after running. The endorphins do so much for me and I strongly believe today, made the difference between a mostly bad day and a mostly good day.

I'm so excited about our holiday break. But I always have to be careful about getting too excited about something. I tend to get myself high expectations that are never met. I'll form unintended expectations by thinking about the possible projects we could finish around the house while we're all home for 2 weeks. I think we'll try and talk about it as a family in the next day and maybe make a family list for what all we want to do over the next 2 weeks. That's good parenting advice too, make sure RG isn't expecting to get in X amount of time playing video games or something while Mom and Dad have totally different expectations. :)

Yeah. Today is really a pretty good day. I like good days.

I expect that the facebook hiatus I started last night is also helping my mood today. It feels good to not feel tied to that place. I call it a place, because that's kinda what it is, a virtual place. But it's nice to not be there. I've been curious at various points today, but have resisted the urge and laughed at myself instead.

I don't feel ready to share my blog on facebook, or the fact of my depression. But it is nice to be sharing this blog with some people, some people who have not journeyed with me on my depression rollercoaster before. I thank you people, my silent readers out there. I appreciate you journeying with me here.

You may have noticed that I've been enjoying making song lyrics my post titles. Maybe they fit the post, possibly they only fit in my head. I usually don't create the title until after I've written the blog post. I never really know where each post is going to take me (it's a fun ride I must say). Perhaps others have trouble making sense of it all, but they make sense to me. :)  Anyway, I have several song bits going through my head right now, but none of them quite fit... "pretty woman walking down the street, pretty woman"... "she's so high, high above me, she's so lovely"... apparently I'm feeling confident about me and my life right now... need something a little different though... got it...

the answer, my friend, is blowin in the wind

Friday, 12/18/15, 6:52pm

Today was hard. I blogged this morning about how all the bad stuff came back after feeling so wonderful and reflective last night. It didn't really get better much all day.

A bad day always sucks. I sob several times throughout the day after new triggers push me over that edge again. I go through bursts of functionality (although that's newer in recent years) throughout a bad day sometimes (sometimes a bad day is bad all day). This morning I was able to get it together enough to go to RG's school for an event. I even socialized a little with another mom I hadn't seen in awhile. I did a kickboxing workout and took care of TK during the day. I managed to pick up RG from the busstop and have another kid over for a playdate for awhile. (After writing all that, I'm realizing how productive I actually was today and keep remembering other little things I did). But.

Nasser went to work later because of the depression. I took care of kids today, but I wasn't exactly a prize-winning mother. Screens were involved several times today as help in caring for kids (by several, I mean more like a lot). I've taken a lot of me time today. I had to back out of a Costco trip with my parents partially because of TK's stomachache and partially because of the depression.

I'm trying to notice that my accomplishments for the day is a bigger list then my failures. It helps. And yet. I still feel like a failure. Because the #1 goal, being present for my kids and my family, was not accomplished.

I guess on days like today, I have to judge myself under a different set of expectations. I survived my depression another day. That's always something to be thankful of.

Typically after writing this much on the blog, I start to feel better. Today is not one of those days. Keep going, right? Maybe I'll still get there.

I read an article today about how mental illness gets reported by the media (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/janine-francolini/reporting-with-dignity-an_b_8697430.html), an article I would recommend reading to all. It is so depressing to think about how media portrayal of mental illness contributes to the stigma over mental illness. I posted this article to my facebook page with the statement "‪#‎LanguageMatters‬ when we talk about mental illness. The responsibility is with each of us to educate ourselves. We would not make a mockery of someone with cancer; why do we when someone has a mental illness??" Four hours later, I sit here, with incredible disappointment over the people I know. That only six people have liked my post. I know, it's stupid to care about the number of likes I get. But. It's something that I care so passionately about, and I wish the people around me cared as much. I don't know. I recognize that my caring so much about facebook likes isn't healthy. I don't know if it's normal, but it shouldn't be. It's stupid and sad and pathetic for me to care so much. 

When I realized earlier this evening that this obsession was happening, I had a bit of an epiphany. I think I need a big hiatus from facebook. I think it is a sometimes positive, but mostly negative influence in my life. And I think that my life on facebook, like especially since the start of the newsfeed, has potentially coincided with my depression. I'm not saying that facebook causes my depression, but what if it's not helping? Hence the hiatus idea. There's some logistics around it I need to figure out like getting facebook messages since my weight loss group is through that. But I do think I'm gonna do that. I think I'm even going to be one of those people who announces the hiatus on facebook to say to people please email, text, or call me if you are interested in hearing about my life. 

Wow, the idea of the facebook hiatus is liberating and I think I might finally feel much better. I think it will be good.

If there's anyone out there reading this blog that feels unsure of how to support me or whether or not it would be weird to bring up something from my blog, just ask me. I've loved the support I have received so far, even if I haven't responded to an email (because if you're reading my blog you may also know that I'm bad about responding to things that I intend to) it means a lot to me.

take a sad song and make it better

Friday, 12/18/15, 7:37am

It all came back this morning. After feeling so great last night, I was suddenly thrown into anxiety and feeling horrid about myself this morning. I should have woken up earlier. I should have taken a shower last night. I should have prepped RG's lunch and snack last night. But today is the last day before winter break, and apparently I am already in vacation mode.

And there I am beating myself up again. I don't know how to not do that.

Let's try this again. It would have been nice to wake up early and workout this morning, but I guess I needed my sleep more. Maybe I can fit in a workout later on in the day or even evening. It would have been nice to not need a shower this morning, but I think I still have time before needing to get to RG's school for his holiday singing program this morning. It would have been nice to have prepped lunch and snack ahead of time, but I was able to throw it together this morning, even though it caused some stress.

I still feel grumpy, but not hating myself, so I guess that's an improvement? Balanced thoughts. Balanced thoughts. Breathe in, breathe out.

I just have to get through the busyness of today. Even though we've had relaxing snow-bound days this week, I can handle busyness again, can't I?

Short post, gotta get back to today. Gotta succeed, no depression getting in the way today, please life?

making spirits bright

Thursday, 12/17/15, 4:04pm, 7:48pm

I've been spending the last several days reflecting over the year while writing my "Christmas letter". A few years ago, when it was getting to be time to think about Christmas Cards, I started getting incredibly stressed as I usually do. Baby announcements, Christmas cards, dreaded thank you cards have been absolute misery for me since they became expected with the whole marriage and children life. I am notoriously late on them, and I've been known on most occasions with thank you cards to throw in the towel because I realize it's been too long. So all you wonderful people out there who have deserved thank you cards in the past from me or my family, please know the appreciation is there. Thank you cards and I just don't do well together. I have thrown away several half completed or finished thank you cards that were never sent because when we started them, I wanted them to be really nice and have effort put in, and that got to be too much. Then it gets too late (see above issue).

Going back to Christmas cards though... sigh. Every year this was torture for me. The first year there was the making of the recipient list. And every year updating the list with address changes, marriages/ divorces/ breakups, births. Then there was the whole getting the "family Christmas photo". And then ordering it in time. And addressing the envelopes. And sending more facebook messages/emails/requested through other people to get addresses for those couple people you know just moved. Because that's the only personal contact you get with someone in the entire Christmas card process is through that message saying "Hey how are you? Can I get your address?" and usually they just respond with the address. How... how does this tradition make sense? I don't know. I appreciate receiving cards and I do especially appreciate that extra bit of personal touch with photos and/or letter. But I guess I decided, with Nasser's help of continually asking me (while alongside me printing the addresses on the envelopes) "what's the point, Alisa?", that I needed to break out of the mold a bit and do something that was right for me and right for my family.

So for the last couple years, I've created a Family Holiday Webpage/ E-card. And right around Christmas, a few days before or a few days after (whenever I finish it and feel ready to send it), I send the link in an email to everyone I know (that I have their email addresses) who I think may be interested. I still make the very few simple paper photo cards. But these I don't feel like I need to have a holiday-y photo on them. I just pick a few good photos through the year, make the card early, and order it with plenty of time. I make the minimum order, like 25 or so, and send them to immediate family and those couple relatives who as far as I know do not operative whatsoever online. If I have extra, then I pick a few people who I know would appreciate the paper copy. Maybe it's all just totally excessive, but I no longer do it because I feel obligated to. I get enjoyment out of my webpage/e-card. It's a similar feeling to what I get when I blog.

I'm really happy that my webpage is something I put a lot of personal thought into. I decide what to share about our family over the year, I decide what pictures to share. I also like that I'm cutting down on paper waste. And it's something that I actually get some feedback on. People I haven't really kept in touch with over the year, I get emails from after they look at my webpage. (Of course, I'm terrible about responding to those, then a month goes by and I feel like it's too late. Damn! What's wrong with me? All you wonderful people out there who respond to my holiday email, thank you. I love those responses.) It's not like people send personal notes of thanks for holiday cards and comment on the wonderful family next to the Christmas tree photo. (Can you just imagine? That would be the end of me.)

Anyway, I've been reflecting on the year, and it's been a good year for me. All in all. I love that I quit my job this year. I love that I started a blog this year. I love that I got more into triathlons and running this year. It feels good, like it was my year in a lot of ways. But I love where I'm headed too. I love the prospects of next year for my blogging and its effect on my mental health. I love the prospects for skiing in the first few months, triathlons and running over the rest of the year, upcoming weddings. Lots of good good things and lots to be thankful for.

Can you believe that just a few days ago I was in the pits of despair and depression? Barely could drag myself to my choir concert and required help from several people to do so. It may seem like I'm doing badly to those of you new to hearing about my depression, but this is "normal" for me. This is what life with depression is. It's a roller coaster and you just hope you don't break your neck on those spirals down after floating on the top.

This is "normal" for me. "Normal". Normal. I often don't like the word normal. And yet. Here, knowing that my roller coaster of emotions is normal for me is comforting. It's ok. It's been like this for awhile, and it keeps being like this. Maybe that means I can survive it. I know, no one survives life. But I'd like to survive my depression.

just keep swimming

Monday, 12/14/15, 1:50pm, 4:09pm

Today is mostly better. This morning I still felt really anxious about all the things I had to do today, and I failed at waking up early to workout, but I'm still chugging along. I did let some tears slip when I got honked at, but I've done a few things for myself today. I got a facial (free prize from a raffle), and I had a therapy appointment. And now I'm blogging. I still have plans to workout when I get a chance, but I'm trying not to stress about that.

There's always a bit of a recovery associated with my depressive episodes. Every "bigger" episode makes me re-assess my life a little. Have I not been doing the right things to avoid this? Are there bigger topics that I'm not discussing in therapy? Is there something I should have done differently? It's important to understand some of that, but with a mindset that I'm trying to improve the future. It's hard for me to keep that mindset; it's easy to fall into the trap of guilt and self-blame.

I always feel apologetic and a little embarrassed after an episode that involves other people. I've apologized to Nasser a number of times (even though he keeps telling me that I don't need to be sorry), and I feel even more embarrassed since we involved several members of my family... as well as... well... the blog. It's liberating to have that experience out there for people to read, but it's also quite difficult to feel so vulnerable. But that's what this blog is; it's raw, honest. And that's what I've pledged to myself as my purpose.

Today I felt a pang of guilt over my mom image. I had volunteered (one of the many things that was stressing me out the last few days) to bake cookies for a teacher cookie exchange at RG's school. I like to bake, I am decent at it, and it typically seems like a good way to contribute when I'm able. I wasn't able yesterday. I wasn't able for Nasser to leave me with the kids and run to the store for the critical cookie ingredients of eggs and butter. I wasn't able to go to the store myself. I wasn't able last night after the concert to bake anything. So I went to the store this morning, bought cookies, opened them up and spread them out on a platter, and dropped them off at the school, passing them off as homemade. It may not sound like a big deal, but this was truly supposed to be exclusively baking. The email had "calling all bakers", "pull out your best recipes" all over it. Still, not the end of the world. And it was better for me to take some relaxing time yesterday evening to help recover from the day. And yet. The guilt doesn't completely go away.

It's a tough world and life. Nasser was reminding me yesterday that everyone has bad days, and challenges in life help make life meaningful. And I keep reminding myself that my depression simply gives me a greater purpose in life. A friend has someone she wants me to talk with, about my depression. Someone who might be able to benefit by understanding what I've gone through. I guess we'll put my purpose to the test.

Keeping it short today. Still recovering, still not feeling too confident as a human being.

Breathe, keep breathing

Sunday, 12/13/15, 12:29pm

Fasten your seatbelts. I'm going to take you on my depressed ride.

I feel like a failure. I feel like I am the scum of the earth, I'm a terrible mother, I'm a terrible wife. I don't deserve the life I claim to have.

The tears are finally coming a little slower so I am attempting to write. Every so often still, I have to take a break because I can't see through them.

Breathe in, breathe out. Nice and slow. Those help stop the tears.

Why? Why? Why? Why can't I live a normal life?

I think we might be coming to the conclusion that maybe there are 2-3 things I need to do every f***ing day in order to prevent these episodes. And they're not little things either.

1) Exercise helps. And typically not a wimpy workout. Ideally I'd be getting in at least an hour every day. Ideally I'd wake up early and start my day with it before the kids wake up.

2) Blogging helps. I think I need to write every morning, if I can. Maybe I can fit in an hour for that after RG goes on the bus every day. TK can entertain himself for an hour every morning, right?

3) Yoga, meditation, mindfulness exercises help. These are important, but I have no idea where to fit them in yet.

How can I take up even just 2 hours of my day to activities to prevent a depressive episode? I would have to sacrifice other things (sleep, time with my family, time in the evening with Nasser before going to bed) in order to make this work. And there's no guarantee that doing these things, with other sacrifices, will absolutely prevent an episode.

I hate my depression. It is the bane of my existence.

I know. I need to look at the positives. My depression makes me stronger. It gives me more empathy. It gives me my purpose of sharing my mental illness experiences with others.

Omygod. The anxiety over the rest of the day and thinking of the things that I haven't been able to accomplish today, plus this afternoon's choir concert, is all overwhelming me. It feels like I can't breathe.

No. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Slow and steady. Breathe in. Breathe out. Keep breathing.

Breathing and anti-anxiety medication. Maybe that's my ticket out of this episode. And blogging. That has helped. Incredibly. I didn't think it would. I didn't want to do it. Nasser brought me my chromebook so that I could. Breathing. One step at a time. Become present and mindful. Sun shining. Snow on the ground. You can do this, Alisa.

You can do this.

Breathe, keep breathing.

I guess you witnessed a recovery ride rather than much of a depressed ride. Now time to attempt life again.

You can do this.

Breathe, keep breathing.

Update: Sunday, 12/13/15, 3:05pm

I made it to the choir concert. I don't know how. After blogging, the rollercoaster of depression and recovery kept continuing. Lots and lots of help from Nasser and my mom. I'm still on the edge, can't guarantee I won't have to walk offstage in tears. Or if a fellow choir member asks me how I'm doing, can't guarantee I won't breakdown again.

But breathe in. Breathe out.

I can do this. I think once I start singing, some autopilot may take over, my love of singing may take over. I'm hoping.

It's hard to look at anyone while we sit and wait our turn for our professional pictures. Will they see it in my expression? Don't think I could even fake a smile right now. Will they see it in my eyes? They're bloodshot and puffy. Will they see it in the way I'm sitting? I'm definitely a bit rigid, shoulders slightly hunched. Will they know what I'm typing on my phone?

I'm getting there. Probably doing the best thing possible for myself, blogging again.

Time to try.

Update: Sunday, 12/13/15, 5:13pm

Still breathing. Half the concert is done and I'll be going back out with the choir in a few minutes. I'll be distracted till the end so I think I'll be OK. Breathe in, breathe out. Almost done.

when you think you've had too much... of this life, well hang on

Thursday, 12/10/15, 10:34pm, Friday, 12/11/15, 8:33am

This evening was... tough. I ended up getting depressed this evening around dinner time. I think I was about to go over the edge all day. It was awful, not the worst, but debilitating none the less.

But. I was supposed to go to my choir dress rehearsal tonight. It's a required rehearsal, one that if you miss, you don't get to participate in the upcoming concerts. Looking back, I can't believe that I seriously considered not going. I love the songs we're singing, and the holiday concerts are usually my favorite. And yet. I was in bad enough shape that I was telling Nasser, "forget it. I won't go and I just won't sing at the concerts. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters."

Somehow, I'm still not sure how, I pulled myself back out of bed, gathering up used tissues, and applied some fancy eye treatments for puffy eyes. I went.

I kept to myself for the first half of rehearsal. I usually keep to myself, even though people are really friendly in choir. I'm not exactly all too close to the median age (most of the choir is retirement age), but I just haven't bonded super close with very many people there in the last 3 years or so I've been in the choir. Recently I actually opened up about my depression to the artistic director. I technically missed more rehearsals than I was allowed (due to several nights of depressive episodes), so I emailed her and explained my situation a little. It's a little easier to tell someone about it over email rather than in person. I don't know; I think I don't like seeing people's first reactions to my news. I guess I worry about judgement or even surprise.

Anyway, we took a break at rehearsal. Often I don't talk to anyone during break. But this time, I asked a fellow alto how she was doing and how her week was going. Turns out she has a coworker who committed suicide last weekend. She was telling me about how awful and sad it was and how hard this week has been for everyone at her work. I decided to tell her that I have depression. The reason I told her is because of things like suicide, we need to talk about mental illness more. Her coworker was actually quite vocal about his depression, but suffered for many years, and seemed worse these last few months.

This is actually the second very recent suicide I've heard about this week. The other situation was a high school student who my friend's sister taught. The recommendation I gave there was that the teacher could use this as an opportunity to talk about mental illness with the other students, to try and break down the stigma so that maybe next time a student feels comfortable enough to get help. The best (perhaps only good) thing to come out of an awful tragedy like suicide, is for the those left behind to become mental health advocates.

I have a hard time when people say that suicide is "selfish". I understand that it hurts the people left behind enormously and that perhaps the person committing suicide doesn't think about those consequences. But for me, when I've felt suicidal, I've felt that everyone whose life I touch would be better off without me here. I think that I'm ruining the lives of everyone around me by existing. Sure, those thoughts make no logical sense whatsoever, but in that state, I *know* those things to be true. There is no question in my mind. In that state, I would hardly call my feelings selfish. I can't claim that other people in a suicidal state feel the same way I do, but I think there's so much more to suicide than feelings of selfishness. And if you say that suicide is "selfish", why wouldn't depression be intrinsically selfish? Based on what I live everyday, I don't consider it to be. My depression is much more about how I feel I'm failing in every aspect of my life and I'm failing the people around me. Depression is bigger than some petty feelings of selfishness. And honestly, I think we're failing the person who committed suicide by saying that their act was "selfish". That ignores the illness they were suffering. That ignores the feelings and emotions the person had that were bigger than them. Bigger than life itself unfortunately.

I grieve for those people who lost their fight with their mental illness. I grieve for their loved ones who are left behind. It is a senseless tragedy because mental illness doesn't really have any logical sense. There's certainly little logic to who mental illness strikes.

I guess the best we can do is to keep talking about it. We need to break down the stigma, we need to change our culture to be more supportive of what people suffer. It all starts with talking about it. So I talk.

extroversion vs introversion

Thursday, 12/10/15, 1:51pm, 3:25pm

I should be taking a shower. I have limited time before getting RG from the bus, but apparently taking care of my mental state is more important right now.

There were a couple times already today where I felt overwhelming failure. The triggers weren't exactly life shattering, but my reaction was a bit more so. It's somewhat of a busy, stressed day. I woke up late though, then I was really late meeting a friend for a run with our kids in jogging strollers, I wasted a big chunk of time in the morning on Amazon looking for the perfect stocking stuffer ornaments, I squeezed in an errand which made no sense logistically because I had to drive a lot extra, and I thought we were going to be super late for lunch with Nasser (which of course ended up fine, but he wouldn't have cared if we were late anyway). I think I'm on edge because of all the upcoming commitments over the next couple days or really through the end of the year. Honestly I love the holidays, but they also really stress me out.

I'm in a choir; did you know that? Singing has always been a big part of my life, and when it hasn't, my life hasn't felt complete. I grew up in a children's community choir, sang in the choirs through high school, and then a little in college. I was missing out for awhile, but it's something I picked back up after I was first diagnosed with depression. I like the feeling of singing in a choir, and there's research that shows how choirs really tune in to each other (like emotionally and even physically) when they sing.

Sadly, I've had trouble with choir giving me the same feeling lately. I like the choir, I like the director, but something doesn't feel right. I've been somewhat dreading rehearsals and several of my depressive episodes fell on rehearsal days and I wasn't well enough to go. I don't know if the commitment is stressing me out, but I've had a similar issue with social situations in general.

I've done some personality tests in the past, and I always come out an extrovert. I've always loved being around other people. But lately, or at least since having kids, I've started avoiding social situations. I'm becoming more of a homebody; maybe I'm becoming more of an introvert. I don't know that I have any issues with becoming more introverted, many of the best people I know are introverts, but I have wondered if this change for me is actually a change or if I've just developed some social anxiety along with my depression. I guess I would say I have some social anxiety... especially since I worry so much about what others think of me. (Oh and my typical thought process at this point is, wow, I really care about what others think about me, I am so shallow. Then I feel guilty for being shallow). Nasser helps me in this thought process. He truly doesn't think I'm shallow, it's more to do with how much I just care. About everything. I worry about other people having struggles in their lives. I worry that I'm screwing up my children (especially because of the depression, but that's another topic for another day). I worry that my parents aren't proud of me. And I worry that people I think are my friends, don't actually like me. It's exhausting to worry so much, but I do know that and am working on it. It's so hard because it's just so automatic for me.

I may have some social anxiety but I also think getting myself used to fewer social events is quite alright. Nasser and RG are both introverts and don't do well when we have too many social activities in our lives. And that's OK. Even though I've always considered myself an extrovert, I do understand that our world is too socially unaccepting of introverts. I understand that a lot of things are harder for RG, like school, camps, sports, because he's an introvert. Luckily in the last few years we've started to recognize that and have been able to accommodate that better.

Maybe I just need to accept that I've become more introverted and accommodate myself accordingly.

floating down a muddy river

Tuesday, 12/08/15, 4:10pm, Wednesday, 12/09/15, 8:41am

It's been a tough, well, couple days.

I have a friend who was going through a mental health crisis the past few days and is now in the hospital. Since finding out I've been worried, agitated, anxious, sad. I've done as much as I can to help out, share my experiences with psychiatric hospitals and mental illness. And yet I feel so helpless. Like in the case with Adam, I am too far away to physically help out, and that definitely contributes to my feelings of helplessness. I have such strong feelings of empathy towards my friend though. I wish I could make it all better.

On a more trivial note, I've been really preoccupied with RG's economics project for school. Each student is supposed to come up with a good or service to provide at a cost (fake money) for their 2nd grade bazaar this Friday. I goofed. When we were coming up with ideas for something we could make to sell, I thought the bazaar was next week, which would have given us an additional weekend to make these.

We're making Lithuanian straw ornaments. They're somewhat simple once you get the hang of it, made with straws and crochet thread, but they're just complicated enough that I have to help RG with every one. We're supposed to make a minimum of 25; of course he wants to make 40. Which means we have to make 10 a night (since we only started making them Monday night). TK has helped a few times, I've made several entirely on my own, but RG is helping with most of it.

This all counts towards homework stars for the week. And the ornaments are mostly fun to make. But... it's a time crunch. I got so fed up at one point with some of RG's behavior that I walked out of the room with my hands in the air, saying, "not my project, not my problem!" Sigh.

Here's some of our finished product.

I've been thinking a lot over the past several days about the, I don't know, injustice (is that the word I'm looking for?) of mental illness. I suppose it's true about every illness, but I've been feeling a lot of the "it's just not fair" sentiment. My mother-in-law reminded me that 1 in 4 within the population suffer from some kind of mental illness. That is still mind-boggling to me, 1 in 4. And yet, we still have an awful stigma in our culture, we still don't have good universal access to all the necessary mental healthcare. I really hope it gets better within my lifetime.

I guess I keep chugging along, telling the world about my experiences, attempting to help other people with mental illness get through their struggles.

My mom's cousin has schizophrenia. I'd see John at all the family get-togethers growing up, but I never knew that he had it. It just wasn't something we talked about. Maybe it was more understood amongst the grownups but I just always thought he was a socially awkward person. John's parents left him a trust fund to help him get through the rest of his life financially after they were gone. He's actually doing much better these days, living in a group home, getting his medication shots regularly. But he's lived a relatively lonely life as far as I can tell. There are good things out of his story, but I want so much more for Adam. I want Adam to be a schizophrenia success stories, not just merely surviving his illness. I don't know how I got onto the topic of Adam again, but I guess he's been on my mind a lot lately.

I hope my friend doesn't have schizophrenia; I don't think he does, but it pops in my mind a lot when I think of mental illness with a relatively young male. My mother-in-law reminded me that schizophrenia hits 1% of the population. That doesn't necessarily sound like much, but she related it to Adam's graduating high school class of around 800 and how 8 people out of that group likely have it. Eight.

I don't have a good way of ending this blog post; it definitely ended up a little bit jumbled, but that's what you get when I write out my thoughts. Farewell until next time. All you wonderful people out there supporting me now, please keep Adam and my friend in your thoughts.

you just call on me, sister, when you need a hand

Monday, 12/07/15, 8:33am

My sister and her family are leaving for South Korea today for about 2 months. My brother-in-law, Peter, has to go there for work, and they figured out a way to get the whole family there. They'll be staying in a tiny apartment in Daejeon, about an hour train ride from Seoul. Peter will be working a lot of hours, Audra will be trying to keep her older son caught up with schoolwork. It should be a really exciting and educational, albeit a little stressed, experience for them.

I'm going to miss them. Nasser's going to miss them. RG and TK are going to miss them. We've been living in close proximity with my immediate family for quite some time now. We originally moved to Colorado from California because Nasser was able to transfer with his company here, and my sisters were both living here, and both pregnant along with me, so it was a no brainer to move closer to them. I shared both my pregnancies with Audra. With RG, Vida, Audra, and I were pregnant all at the same time, our children due within 3 months of eachother. Then with TK, Audra and I, again, and this time, our brother's wife, Carmen, were all pregnant and due within 6 months of eachother. It was and is pretty special.

I'm close with all my siblings. Audra and I have been especially close since I moved to Colorado. So far, each of the times that I've been home with my kids, Audra also has. So we ended up spending a lot of time together and we formed many of the same friendships with other families. Since I've been home lately, she's been my go-to person. We get together several times each week for playdates for our boys, workout classes, running dates, Costco trips.

And Audra is definitely a big support person in my depression.

It's really going to be hard losing our routine, even if it's only for 2 months. We plan to do video calls and have the kids send postcards or letters back and forth, but TK and I, especially, will need to step out of our comfort zone. I'll need to start planning things more with my other stay at home mom friends. And TK normally goes to school with D, his cousin, one morning a week. D won't be there of course, and he'll need to start interacting with the other kids and make some new friends.

It's certainly not the end of the world, but the ease of the transition into "stay at home mom" for me has been easier with Audra around. I'm a little worried that reality is going to hit me a little more these next 2 months. I've got to rely on myself more, as well as start expanding my close support network a little more. Thankfully, I've been already doing that lately and I've made major strides just in the past week with my blog.

Adam's story

Friday, 12/04/15, 4:18pm, 8:27pm

And we're getting another post out of me tonight.

My brother-in-law, Adam, has paranoid schizophrenia. He was diagnosed about 3 1/4 years ago, when he was 20 years old, although he had symptoms for a little while before that (don't know exactly when they started but I think it was at least a year and half of symptoms prior to diagnosis). The last 3 1/4 years have been a rollercoaster for him and his family of reasonable calm, struggles with substance abuse, taking medications, not taking medications, hospital stays, arguments, police involvement, and some homelessness.

It sucks.

He and the rest of Nasser's family, including one set of grandparents, live in the Chicago, Illinois area (where we both grew up). Being so far away, we are so much less involved in all the crises surrounding Adam's illness. And yet, the emotional tole it takes watching everything happen (getting involved through phone calls/ emails/ research/ support) is about as much as I can actually handle.

He recently completed a substance abuse/ mental health inpatient program. And he was back living with my mother-in-law afterward. We talked briefly with him in a video call on his birthday, just before Thanksgiving, and he seemed, good. Quite good. I think I got my hopes up good. We haven't really heard much about how he's doing since the program until today.

So far all I know is he's back in the hospital. Haven't yet gotten ahold of anyone there who knows the details and is available to talk. So we wait. And prepare our emotions. He's back in the hospital again. I've lost count the number of hospital stays, let alone the number of days he's spent in the hospital. One visit lasted a full month.

Part of me feels a really strong connection with Adam since we both struggle with a mental illness, but most of the similarities end there. I guess I have the "easier" or "milder" illness; I certainly can function well on more days and hide my illness more easily. And yet, I understand things about his illness differently (not necessarily more or better) than others who don't deal with a mental illness of their own. I certainly understand some portion of hospital stays from a more similar viewpoint as his. I so feel for him, because I know that hospital stays aren't peachy. They are humbling, they are anxiety inducing, they are prison-like in many of their restrictions, and they keep you there until you are "better" enough to go back out into the world. And most of the time that you're there, you really would rather not be, which makes it so hard to actually get "better" mentally. (We need to change this somehow in our fix of the mental health system in the United States).

I'm so sad that Adam is back in the hospital so quickly after completing this program we all had such high hopes for. I'm so sad that his illness causes him to think he doesn't need his medications. I'm so sad.

Before Adam was diagnosed, but after his mom was pretty sure what was going on, I read an incredibly enlightening book called The Center Cannot Hold, written from the perspective of Elyn Saks, who has struggled with schizophrenia for several decades, but has managed to succeed as a college professor and lawyer.

It's an amazing yet heavy read. I find her story one that gives hope for leading a successful life, as well as hope that we can improve the mental healthcare across the globe. Elyn Saks lived through some horrific inpatient experiences in both England and the United States in the 1960s and 70s, which helped inspire her to become an advocate for the psychiatric patient, from a legal perspective. Her TED talk (https://www.ted.com/talks/elyn_saks_seeing_mental_illness?language=en) was an inspiration to all of us except Adam. He thought she was "crazy". Different perspectives, I guess.

I wish we had an easy cure for mental illness. And some day, maybe we will. I still hold out hope for something, maybe not easy, but something.

I keep chugging along in my small part to break down that stigma though. My new purpose. For me. For Adam. For everyone struggling with a mental illness.

I don't love guns

Friday, 12/04/15, 9:46am

Apparently I get an itch between 9 and 10am every morning to write. Maybe I'm at my most creative when I'm well rested, caffeinated, and the sun is shining. Which turns out to be almost every day, because Colorado has an unbelievable number of days of sunshine every year. This morning, I feel optimistic and content. Perhaps it's because it's a Friday. I've successfully made it through the week and my personal growth has come a long way in just the past several days. I've also gotten exercise in most of the week, I've been eating well, losing weight. And it's been warm enough the last couple days for TK and I to get outside for some biking/running. I've had some conversations with people close to me this week after sharing my blog with them. As a result I feel more loved and supported than ever. It's a fabulous feeling.

Despite all this fabulous-ness, what I actually want to blog about today is heavy. And it could get political. The topic of the day is the gun violence/mass shootings awfulness that is happening in the US. After a shooting at Planned Parenthood in Colorado Springs, CO the day after Thanksgiving, as well as the shooting at the San Bernardino, CA Inland Regional Center 2 days ago (which was the second mass shooting that day), American news and social media are barely talking about anything else. I've been soaking it all in over the last few days, trying to form my views and opinions.

The issue(s) has been extremely politicized, especially with where all the presidential candidates stand, and some people are still arguing that we don't actually have a problem. I, for one, am fed up with it, I'm sick of the NRA lobbying, I'm sick of the shouts of "don't take away my second amendment rights!", and I'm sick of seeing another mass shooting on national (and international) news. Nasser and I were discussing it briefly this morning and he's almost to the point of wanting to ban all guns. This is coming from a guy who considers himself a libertarian on many issues, liberal on others. But the idea of taking away rights has never been appealing to him. I was shocked to hear him even consider a solution of taking away that "right". (Is owning a deadly weapon really a right????).

The recent shootings have certainly been shocking and emotional, they stir a strong feeling of wanting to change things, but I'm also a data and numbers person. The graph below really speaks a lot to me about the problem, and it's all normalized to number of deaths per 100,000, not number of mass shootings for which the definition can be argued over.


Source: Global Burden of Disease Study. Access the data visualization here: http://ihmeuw.org/3oi4

I don't understand how anyone in our country can accept the amount of gun violence we have as a norm. It's mind-blowing for me.

I'm still not sure what the solution looks like, exactly, but I do feel strongly that it will be at least twofold. Firstly, we need to fix our laws around gun "control". I use the word "control" but I don't mean that banning them outright is necessarily the solution (although I also don't rule that out).  I think we need to look at the laws we have, consider if closing loopholes and enforcing them would help, and then we need to consider whether or not we need new laws in place. Meaningful laws, perhaps laws that would enforce universal background checks, perhaps stricter requirements for licensing; the point is, we need our nation's EXPERTS to come together and make recommendations to our Congress. We need Congress to stop bending over backwards to the NRA with inaction.

The idea of stricter and universal background checks ties in to mental illness as well. Theoretically anyone diagnosed with mental instability could be unable to purchase a gun, of course that's assuming that the mental instability is diagnosed or related to a criminal record. (And yes this doesn't fix the issue of illegal gun sales, but that's not where I'm going with this). The cultural stigmatization of mental illness means that fewer people seek help, fewer people are diagnosed. Additionally, funding for mental health programs is limited in this country and the options for help aren't what they should be. We need to take a hard look at mental healthcare within our country and we need to make it better. I do think that if James Holmes (the Aurora, CO movie theater shooter) perhaps didn't live in a world where mental illness is so stigmatized and had been getting the right mental healthcare, 12 deaths could have been avoided, and 70 additional people wouldn't have been injured. 

Can't we stop these hideous mass shootings and gun violence? We have to start DOING something. Enough with the prayers and thoughts, enough with the heads in the sand; it's time to have the conversation and come up with solutions that we can enact.

my purpose

Thursday, 12/03/15, 9:35am

I read an interview this morning about mental illness where a question was asked about how we should eradicate the stigma around it. (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/michaela-haas/a-revolutionary-step-forw_b_8282184.html). The interviewee, Sheila Hamilton, says "If more people shared their stories of illness and eventual recovery, it would have a profound effect on those who are suffering in silence. If every person in America who was living well with mental illness came out of the shadows, it would be a revolutionary step forward."

I was thinking about that line and had the realization that 1. I can do that!! and 2. Wait, I am doing that with my blog!

I've found another major purpose in life.

I don't believe that everyone has one major purpose or destiny in life. I think it's more like we find various purposes throughout our lives, sometimes they change and grow, sometimes others become obsolete. 

As I'm sure you've noticed, my blog posts have become longer and more frequent over the past week. I've literally become obsessed with my blog. I've had to stop myself from writing 2 posts in one day because that's probably too frequent. :) Again, thank you, blog for continually helping me, and now for giving me a lovely purpose in my stay at home with the kids gig that's not related solely to my kids.

We'll keep today's post short and sweet.

it takes a village

Tuesday, 12/02/15, 9:59am

Having a strong support network is really important when fighting any illness, and just as important when living with a mental illness. I chose to say "living with" because for me, it's healthier to look at my depression as part of my life rather than something I'm trying to fight. If I look at it as a fight, then every depressive episode could be conceived as a loss, a failure. My therapist gave me a metaphor awhile back that really helps me when dealing with depressive episodes. She said to envision a field, and as I walk through the field, sometimes I fall down a hole. In early stages of depression, you can't even see the holes and sometimes you're in one, but you don't realize that it's a hole. It just looks like your reality. But if you can see the top, you can start to climb back out. As you learn more about depression and yourself, you start to see the holes around you, and maybe at first, you just recognize them but still fall in just as often. Eventually, maybe you avoid a hole here and there. But it's still ok to fall in. And now to bring it full circle, you aren't in the field all by yourself. Maybe we're all in it together, and sometimes, or often, your friends and family can help pull you out of the holes.

I didn't start out with a big support network. And I wouldn't call my support network huge by any means, but it's expanded a lot over the years. When I was first diagnosed with depression, I sent an email to my immediate family to "inform" them of my situation. I remember being terrified to even tell my family. At the time, I had such a strong stigma about my having depression that it was so hard to admit to anyone. I started telling close friends slowly after that. Still, there are friends that know about it but we don't discuss it, and there are friends that ask about it once in awhile and that love and concern helps me through. And then there are friends I know I can call and will support me at the drop of a hat.

There have been a few times where I've used my support fully because I was so lost down a hole. Even though I know I have a good number of people that will support me through anything, I don't like asking for that help.

My one hospital stay still stands in my mind as a defining point in my depression and my life in general. I was in a depressive funk that I couldn't get out of for a couple days. And it was suicidal. At the time, I was staying at home with my kids and hadn't really gotten a handle on that. I questioned myself often, I didn't trust my parenting skills, and there were several times in the 6 months before ending up in the hospital where Nasser had to stay home from work a day to take care of me. Looking back, and I even knew at the time, I know I wasn't doing the right things to prevent episodes. I did not have a therapist for almost a full year due to my previous therapist going out of our insurance network. I hadn't figured out yet the wonders of exercising on my mood.

The day before I went to the hospital was a day Nasser took off of work (for my depression). It was a Monday. We ended up calling my parents for help with the kids, and we went out for lunch and a movie to try and improve my mood. The distraction helped but didn't remove the dangerous thoughts for very long. When I wasn't better in the morning, I decided to get my parents' help again in the afternoon so I could go in to the hospital for an evaluation. I thought I was only going to be gone an hour. When I finally was "allowed a phone call" (because the person evaluating me put me in a room and locked up my phone before telling me what was happening), I called Nasser, sobbing, to inform him that I was going to be kept on a "72-hr hold". My parents helped so much those 3 days so that Nasser could get some work time in here and there. Plus, TK was still nursing at the time, so Nasser would bring him to the hospital at least 3 times a day so that I could nurse. It was such a humbling experience to be forced into the hospital stay, but once I got over the initial shock, I realized I needed to participate if I was going to be let out at the end of it. I wouldn't say that I just went through the motions though; I attended every group session and contributed. I worked closely with my social worker and my hospital psychiatrist. I utilized my personal time doing yoga, breathing deeply, and I started a puzzle with some other patients. I got close with several of the other patients there and we helped eachother. Looking back, I wish some of the circumstances had been different around getting in to the hospital, but I'm glad I experienced it. It forced me to take a break from my life and re-prioritize. Despite having lots of things out of control, I advocated for myself at the hospital. My doctor there wanted to add Abilify, an anti-psychotic, to my meds since it has shown good results in conjunction with an anti-depressant. I flat-out refused because I was still nursing and I couldn't do both due to the risks. And I explained my reasoning and my situation to the doctor and they let me decide in the end. I would eventually go on Abilify but on my own terms and not until I was long done nursing.

I've only told a handful of people that I was ever in the hospital. It's certainly not something I broadcast since it's not necessarily something I'm proud of, but sometimes it helps explain the seriousness of my illness to others. I still struggle with suicidal thoughts in my darkest episodes sometimes. And there have been times when Nasser has asked if we need to go to the hospital. So far the answer has always been no, but I know that I could go if I needed. It's no longer something I'm scared of.

I've been loving this blog as an addition to my support network and as a way to expand the support with people I already have. It's hard to bring up my depression to anyone as a, "hey, I want to talk about this for awhile with you". And there are a handful of people that I can do that with, but typically I'd rather people ask me about it. This blog provides a space for me to be honest and share without the need for an introduction to the topic. I've been struggling with whether or not to share it with more people, even just my current support network. It's hard to put yourself out there in such an honest format and wonder if others will still see you the same way. I suppose they can't look at me exactly the same way, given the information I've shared. But, I don't want pity, I'd rather have empathy and compassion. Hopefully this blog can achieve that.

feminism and puzzles

Tuesday, 12/01/15, 9:54am, 2:08pm

Feminism has been on my mind lately between the latest book club book I read (The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah) and some conversations I've had with my sister-in-law, Laila. Growing up, I'm not sure that I would have called myself a feminist. I think I was, but I felt a stigma against being so. I feel like feminism is often misunderstood by non-feminists. Growing up, I thought that feminism had, I don't know, negative connotations for some reason. I was brought up a strict Catholic, and in that world, feminism doesn't mesh well (I say that not as a diss to Catholicism, but as the way I see it. Women can participate in different ways, but they are very specifically excluded from the priesthood. I don't envision the church changing enough any time soon to allow that, something that I will never understand).

My senior year of high school I took a Women's Studies class which had only just started being offered at my school. And for some ridiculous reason, I felt embarrassed to be taking it. It was a wonderful class; we learned, among other things, about the suffrage movement and influential women in history. I want to slap 16 year old me to pay attention in class and stop being embarrassed. Now, I would love to retake a class like that. One of the things that class tried to change our thinking on was our view of feminism. Wikipedia defines feminism as "a range of movements and ideologies that share a common goal: to define, establish, and achieve equal political, economic, cultural, personal, and social rights for women." What is there not to agree with in that definition?

Sidebar: when I went to look up the definition of feminism, I found a page open on my phone of an article I wanted to read, an NPR review of a movie about women's rights in Turkey. Maybe it's totally reasonable to call myself a feminist.

There's a page on Facebook I like called "A Mighty Girl" which often posts, well, mighty women and girls. I don't read every post and usually not the extra articles and links they include, but it's a nice way to appreciate the female race a little more on a regular basis. Reading about famous female scientists, mathematicians, engineers, computer scientists gives me hope for our future generations. I tend to think of the science and technology fields when I think of feminism, because well, I'm an engineer. My two older sisters and my mother-in-law are all engineers. Being in a male-dominated field has taught me to stand up for myself as a female. I wish I could say that the sexism I've seen being in engineering just brushes right off my back (and I'm working on that) but it's hard. It's frustrating and it's demeaning. 

I've struggled with my own feminism. Showing it, sharing it, living it. I haven't successfully negotiated my way into a higher salary or more vacation time like many of my male counterparts, like I wanted to when offered jobs. I went to a part time schedule in my job so that I could better juggle the work and life balance. But I felt guilty for doing so. I felt like I should be proudly working full time to show everyone that women can hold their own in engineering. Then a couple months ago I decided to quit my job and become a full time stay at home mom. I think very highly of the other stay at home moms I know, and I can honestly say I don't judge them for their choice. And yet, I judge myself. I have the engineering degree(s) (bachelor's and master's), and here I am not using it, not making the female to male ratio in engineering better. But, I'm learning to stand by my decision and to understand that I'm also living my feminism by demonstrating my ability to choose. I choose to be in a different role right now to better support my family.

I guess part of staying at home with my kids is a journey to find myself a little more. Lately rather than work on chores around the house while TK plays nicely during the day, I find myself working on my blog more. Or my puzzle. Remember the puzzle I started awhile back? See progress below.

I felt a strong metaphor for my life coming on last night when I was working on my puzzle. It isn't necessarily easy and some of the pieces can get really jumbled up, but every piece of your life that you find its place, is a success, is an accomplishment. Sometimes the pieces just fall into place, and sometimes you spend a lot of time searching for a specific piece for a specific spot or a specific spot for a specific piece. I like working on my puzzle just a little bit here and there. I think I work on myself the same way. I have trouble getting through books on depression or my life very quickly. I need to slowly go through them, think about things and myself and my life, and sometimes put everything down for awhile because it can get so overwhelming.

And in the same spirit, that's enough blogging about myself for one day. Feminism to be continued another day.