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.
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.
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