I'll flag, I'll fall, I'll falter, I'll find my day may be, far and away...

Thursday, 11/01/18, 1:55pm

I don't really know how to start at the moment. I guess I'll first give you a brief update on some things. I had intended to write and upload a post a couple weeks ago. But... something got in the way. I was out of the house for a few hours, and in between a yoga class and PT appointment I was hanging out at a nearby coffee shop typing out a post. I didn't finish but planned to later that day. Well I went home after the appointment and discovered water dripping from the ceiling around the doorway of the study. I realized quickly that our master bathroom is directly above it. The source of the water was from our toilet, which we later discovered was leaking due to some rusted through tank bolts. The toilet had been jostled just enough that morning by the cleaning crew we have come every two weeks. It likely had only been leaking/flooding for 3-4 hours, but it was kinda bad since you know, it was coming from the tank which just keeping refilling. The water leaked down into the study and then down into our basement. A bit of a nightmare really.

Here's our bathroom with toilet room. Of course, it's still carpeted because it's one thing we haven't gotten around to changing and because when the house was built, somebody had this amazing idea that bathrooms should be carpeted. Those are my footsteps in the soaked carpet trying to figure out what was happening.

A lot of water mitigation happened with massive industrial grade fans and dehumidifiers, some tearing up of rooms, some plumbing and insurance stuff (plumbing only to fix the water shutoff to that toilet so we could have water to the rest of the house, not to fix the toilet). And of course quite a bit of disruption to life.

We have a lot to do. We're getting stuff all ready to soon rip up and redo our other upstairs bathroom, since it is looking like that toilet, also original to the house, is having a slow leak going on.

I guess the next project will be our bathroom, then the study (which also needs some evaluation as to damage to the walls and ceiling).

It's "good" since the flooding really only hit rooms we had planned to redo. There's some damage to our cork flooring on the main floor just outside the study but we have some leftover cork in the garage so it should be a reasonably easy fix.

But then of course it just sucks. It sucks. I don't like having to share the kids' shower. I don't like having to go to their bathroom when I wake up needing to pee in the middle of the night. I don't like the smell when I pass by the door to the study. Sigh. I know I'm a spoiled brat, but I'm still rather grumpy about all of this.



So the main reason I picked up my Chromebook to write is that today has been really challenging. I woke up feeling really really bad. I felt feel sadness, lots of shame, self-doubt, and probably even some anger. It all seems silly too, but I am learning from my DBT class to validate my feelings. (I mentioned some about DBT in the last post- I'm about to finish my 5th week of it, going MWF 9am-noon, with additional homework and an hour a week meeting with the individual therapist they assigned to me). I'm not sure I'm even going to go into the whys of my feelings, even though I tend to just share everything. I guess there's some shame happening over why I've been feeling this way.

I've been working really hard all day with lots of DBT skills. I made it to my strength circuit class at the Y, even though I really didn't want to (opposite to emotion action); I did a lot of observing/describing/participating (under the mindfulness module) during the class and tried to do it all "one-mindfully", so paying close attention to my form and breath in each movement; I used the "thoughts" skill (under wise mind ACCEPTS within the distress tolerance module) to count things in the gym like rungs on the upstairs rail around the track and my reps and the cones on the floor and various parts of the walls and floor. I've listened to a lot of music today, favorites and soothing stuff (from the distraction techniques and again, wise mind ACCEPTS). (FYI, I'm only briefly referencing the specific skills because I know you all can read up on things more on your own).

I've been taking a lot of "me time" today. I ate a good lunch and drank a nice latte after exercising, but kept up with the recent tracking food thing I've been doing to help lose some weight, and I even entered each piece of Halloween candy I ate. I read, listened to more music, worked on DBT homework to help me through some of the emotions. Eventually, just before starting this post, I had a big breakdown of sobbing. I'm working hard on the DBT validation of emotions stuff and "riding the emotional wave" stuff to just experience it all and not judge it. It's really really really hard, but AND (dialectics from mindfulness) I think it's helping.

One of the things DBT is teaching me is that doing things that help, even just a little bit, are worth doing. I don't have to try and force my way out of a bad spell by pushing away the feelings and making myself do a full recovery. I think I've put this pressure on myself for a long time that I just need to be "all better". I've never really understood quite what that meant, but I've never been there, and so in my mind I'm a failure. I've also had this expectation of myself that whenever people ask how I'm doing I answer with something along the lines of "I'm doing much better". Because that feels like what everyone wants to hear. I'm still working on a new response to that question.

I don't know that I have anything else to say right now. I guess I just want to say that the DBT stuff is worthwhile, for people struggling with emotions or whatever, and really just for everybody out there.

it wasn't me, it was my strange and creeping doubt, it keeps rattling my cage

Sunday, 09/30/18, 4:08pm, 8:17pm

Hey there.

I made a discovery today, this afternoon, this last half hour of a technique I'm hoping to make use of in my "battle". (Whatever it's supposed to be called. My ongoing struggle, my life, my mental illness journey, my depression, my bipolar-ness). So often, I'm not necessarily even doing too badly, I find myself having a degrading dialogue with myself. You suck, you're a horrible mom, you're a horrible human being, you'll never be able to handle "it", you'll never succeed at anything, you'll never win this. I wasn't having the best morning/day today, but then I was doing a little better in the last hour or so. I had taken a shower, which helped, and I'd taken some snack and water to my boys at the park while Nasser was heading out for a Costco run. I was working on a puzzle when I found myself in this dialogue.

Well this time I took a real vulgar approach to it. Oh f*ck you, you a**hole depression. You stupid bipolar sh*t telling me all these awful lies. You're not wanted, you mother-f*cking worthless piece of crap. You may know my weaknesses or what brings me down, but that doesn't mean you know me.

It helped.

Unfortunately, I went through this cycle back and forth. I'd say this in my head, keep enjoying my puzzle, and those thoughts would come back, and I'd say it again. I'm not down again, so I guess it's proving to be a worthwhile technique, but then it doesn't just make those thoughts go away. And I really wish something would.

Tomorrow I'm starting this big deal "intensive outpatient" program for DBT, aka dialectical behavior therapy. This therapy is done in a group setting, three times a week, three hours each day, with a little bit of homework each night. Plus a one-hour appointment with the assigned therapist. Oh, and over nine weeks. It's a really really big commitment, which makes me nervous/anxious/scared/terrified. It sounds like an awesome thing though, and I think the intense immersion of it all will be all that much better for me. It will hopefully make the skills I learn during the program more habitual.

Sometime last month, I also started EMDR, aka eye movement desensitization and reprocessing. It's weird. The results of this therapy seemed a bit mixed when I was initially doing some research on it. It also seems a bit... strange... I guess. I went in with a lot of doubts. But so far, I feel like it's doing something and seems worthwhile. I don't feel like talking a whole lot more about it right now, since I think it would require providing a lot of backstory, etc, so I'm just going to leave it there.

I'm having a hard time accepting that I need this much treatment/help/therapy/support still. And I talked about this just last month and here I am again. I know that I've done so much, I've required so much, and I'm still not where I want to be. I do really well some days, and it seems I do terribly others. I want to reduce those dips and I want to make them less severe. And now... hopefully... this therapy program will help with that. Although I need to go in with, sure, some expectations of myself to gain as much as possible, but without that hope that this will fix it all.

I don't really have anything else to say today. Just that, anyone out there who reads this, think of me, send your kind thoughts, energy, and strength my way as I continue this work in the form of this program over the next 9 weeks.

oh no, be strong, walk on, walk on

Wednesday, 08/29/18, 9:39am

Well. So. Hmmm.

Every so often, I have a day or even just a moment of "hey I should really blog about this". And then of course I don't make note of it and forget it or just give up for awhile on blogging. I've written a lot of blog posts over the past, whatever it is, oh, I guess it's been since November of 2015. And apparently it's a ridiculous 221 posts. Yikes. I sometimes wonder... like how much of that has any real worth to it? How much has just been repeated? I'm sure a ton, really. Other than the "oh this is what's been going on in my life" the last day, or week, or month. I don't know. It just kinda adds to my feeling of insignificance in some way. Sigh.

So RG, my older kiddo had this 5th grade overnight camp thing going on this week. They were leaving Monday morning from school, going about an hour away but up in the mountains a bit and in the wilderness with hiking, camping, bonfires, etc. Unfortunately RG developed an infection last week, got on antibiotics last Friday, seemed worse over the weekend, and was unable to leave with the class on Monday. He somehow got a ton better on Monday, so we decided I'd drive him up Tuesday morning to join everyone. It seemed perfect that he could at least get half the trip. But then he got really nervous on the drive, wanted to just turn around and go home. I kept saying things like oh, but we've gone this far, we may as well get there and see what it's like. When we arrived we got to the lodge and cabins but all the kids were out on a hike, so there were a few counselors who came and helped us out. We had an awful time getting him to stay. He got more and more resistant and after a lot of arguing, him being extremely upset, we started driving back down. Partway down, still rather close to the site, after lots of discussing, he finally said that he was concerned that other kids would think he was better now, why couldn't he come Monday? And then those kids would tell other kids, etc. I saw myself reflected in his worries, my fears of what people will think about me, how they'll judge me. I talked about myself with him, how I have a lot of fears like that, and when I end up backing out of things I'd originally wanted to go to, I regretted it. I told him about the pride he'd feel about doing it anyway and trying what he could. We turned around, he seemed a ton better, and he stayed.

The whole experience was... a really mixed bag. I did feel pride in him, pride in myself for finally becoming empathetic, I felt like we got through a lot of the tough feelings. But it all took so much out of me. It made me realize how much I need to be an example of all these things to my kids. It made me think about how, if I expect them to try in life and to be willing to try and fail, I need to do the same. And I often feel like I can't do that. I feel like I fail all the time. I feel like I will never succeed in the things I desperately want to. I hate that feeling.

I may have mentioned in recent posts that I've decided to join choir again this year. This past Saturday was the kick-off party, which I was planning to go to, but I backed out of it. There were a few logistic reasons that made it difficult to attend. My nephew's birthday party was the same day with a theoretical ending at the time the choir party was starting. But then it would have been a bit of a drive between the two. Then the bday party went longer than that anyway, and I wasn't too excited to leave that either. But. Perhaps the biggest reason was that I was terrified to go. I was terrified to see these people and "catch up" or just in general converse with all of them. I was afraid that I might sorta recognize people but not really remember then due to the treatment. I couldn't remember who even knew about the treatment. I was scared.

Then last night was the first choir rehearsal of the season. I was extremely nervous (to say the least) to go. I even had a stupid anxiety attack when I saw my calendar saying the rehearsal started at 6pm and this was already 5:50. I cried, I could barely breathe. Thankfully Nasser was there to help me through and thought to give me my kick in immediately anti-anxiety pill. Eventually I was capable enough to check the official calendars and realize that chamber choir (which I'm not in) has rehearsal 6-7 and concert choir (which I am in) starts at 7pm. Oi.

I went. I went, I went, I went. And choir was wonderful. So incredibly wonderful. It was the perfect amount of talking with a few people, of hearing the director speak about the upcoming season and a bit of Aretha Franklin tribute, of remembering the warm up, of re-learning how to site read music, of remembering that I like to tap my fingers on my leg for what the piano playing of certain measures would be. It felt really good. It was everything Nasser had said it would be, especially in his reminding me of how much singing really means to me. And I had forgotten how supportive these people are, to eachother in general, but also to me, in welcoming me back, in hugging me, in asking about my last year, and in hearing about my last year. When I got in the car after rehearsal, I took a moment to say to myself "I did it. I did it".

I did it. I do it. I try to do it. All critical things to life. All critical to building confidence. All critical to telling those stupid depressive thoughts to just shut up.

life has a funny way of helping you out

Saturday, 08/18/18, 12:56pm

In the last few hours I've been thinking about expectations. Big expectations. Low expectations. Loads of expectations.

Each of us has some amount of expectations over our heads.

I don't think about it often enough, but I suppose I expect Nasser to work, to keep a job, to support our family, to provide healthcare so that I can be treated, to work because I feel unable to work.

I expect our kids to listen to us (at least some or most of the time. to be honest I suppose I expect it all the time and that's why I freak out everytime they don't listen). I expect our kids to help out in the house in certain ways- to set the table, to clear and clean the table especially when they make a mess, to clean up their toys when it's needed or I need it, to get themselves ready for school or for us going places, to do their homework, to eat what I feed them, to brush their teeth in the mornings and evenings, to take a shower when I tell them they really need it, to be nice to eachother and to us. Hmmm, I guess that's a lot of expectations.

I expect a lot of things out of myself. I expect to get myself to work out everyday. I expect for me to choose to eat healthy everyday, to stick to a plan to lose weight. I expect for myself to be strong for the people around me, and for myself. I expect to fight the depression. I expect myself to not let it trickle in, to control me. I expect to be capable, quickly, every time it hits, to fight, and to fight hard.

I expect a lot of more "normal" things as well. I expect to take care of my family, to keep a safe home, to provide support to my children and husband (emotionally, lovingly, as well as nutritionally, logistically, socially, and whatever). I expect to either work outside the home or to take on a lot of childcare in the home (or both).

I expect to try. really hard. I expect to try the things I know should could help me. I expect to work on integrating into my life things like regular exercise, healthy eating, mindfulness, practice in calming myself, reading, forgiving myself, dropping my bad thoughts into my bucket of soapy water (see previous post).

I have expected, going into each treatment over the years, that this would be the thing that worked. I expected to "get better" with electro-convulsive therapy. And I have, in particular in comparison to what I was going into it, but I think I expected more. I'm not sure what I expected/expect with every treatment. Maybe I expect(ed) that something out there will just make me miraculously 100% better. And I know that everyone deals with bad days, etc. I'm pretty sure the stuff I'm still experiencing are still within the depression spectrum. I was told recently that I'm "in remission". I'm still trying to figure out what that means. I guess by this definition, "if the disease is in remission, the disease has been controlled so that they are not as ill as they were", it would be valid. I suppose I need to modify my expectations. Depression/Bipolar II is a lifelong illness and can't be "cured" in the true sense, but only "remitted".

And I am not as ill as I was. And I am finding that other things are working more than they ever did (cognitive behavioral therapy for one, practicing strategies on my own, actively finding ways to improve my mood when it hits rather than ruminating, even if I start off ruminating). I guess I expected just wish I was cured, rather than remitted only.

I've been wondering how to "phase out" ECT. It's been every 4 weeks for a little while now, our appointment with the ECT doc this past Thursday was good, but it was much up to me. We came up with the options to either stop here and see how it goes (as has been an option for some time now) or to taper more slowly, getting myself to every 5 weeks, 6 weeks, up to 8 weeks, and stop there. Either way I plan to set reminders for myself to "check in" with my feelings, with how I'm doing. And I'll be setting up a doctor appointment to check in a few months after stopping to be sure I don't need a boost. I decided to set up the appointment for a treatment at about 5.5 weeks and I'll cancel if I'm feeling like that's the right decision. Tapering does feel a bit safer to me though.

I've been really judging myself when it comes to ECT lately. Maybe I had the expectation that I would be done sooner. Maybe it's this prejudice that I have against myself that I'm messed up because I still need ECT (maybe I have a prejudice against myself that I did mess up enough to need ECT in the first place). I do tend to feel like people are judging me when I mention treatment and it feels like they are thinking "wow, she's still doing that??". And of course, most, if not all, of this is in my head. But knowing that doesn't really help much.


I guess I need to remind myself that I'm in remission, not cured. If and when I need heftier treatment, be it ECT or something else, later on, whenever it is, in life, it is ok. It is and always will be a journey.


PS, here's what I've been working on a bit today, after starting to feel crappy. I'm currently calling it my "comfort book", which I may have mentioned in a previous post, but I've made some progress. These are all things/images/quotes/pictures that speak to me, provide me comfort and/or motivation.

and all these sorrows I have seen, they lead me to believe that everything's a mess

Monday, 08/13/18, 11:21am, 4:17pm, 5:30pm

My brain.

It's hard not to despise my brain when my depression strikes, or even just in thinking about or talking about my depression. Hmmm, maybe I'll change that to "the depression" rather than "my" depression. Maybe that helps, or can help, take away some of that self-shaming. "My" makes it sound like my fault.

Anyway.

I get these depressive thoughts that run me in circles thinking that "I suck", "I'm a failure at [insert anything and everything]", "I don't deserve to live", "I don't deserve to even be treated for depression", etc, etc. This morning I was trying to (and I've certainly tried this before as well) tell myself that "these thoughts are the depression", "they aren't real", etc. And I was capable enough to tell myself this (which is a long way from what I've been in the past, or even most of my crashes), but I couldn't get myself to believe this. I start saying things like "I suck so bad that I can't even stop believing all this even though I know it's the depression".

Nasser and I were discussing this morning how to fight these thoughts, you know, cuz I was in the midst of a crash. He talked about learning to recognize that these thoughts are happening and that these thoughts are originated by the depression, which is basically the foundation of using mindfulness for depression. But then we talked about, after recognizing this, placing these thoughts away. Sorta like all the distraction techniques.

I'm starting to get a good image in my head of where to place these thoughts. Last week I was at my sister's house. And she's really big into gardening and yard work, all of which I have a lot of trouble with. I saw that she has this method of taking care of these Japanese beetles that eat the tops of fruit trees. She keeps a little bucket of soapy water in the backyard and when she finds a beetle she puts it in there. The beetle can't escape because of the soap in the water and it drowns. I saw this method again last night when Nasser and I watched a video of a homemade yellow jacket trap and they used soapy water again to drown the yellow jackets in the end.

So now, I'm using the soapy water image to "trap" and "drown" my depression thoughts. The image helped this morning, but I haven't exactly experimented with it much. I'm not sure that it will work but I guess over the years I'm never sure that anything will work. I just have to keep trying.

The other thing that Nasser reminded me of this morning is that progress doesn't have to be fast. I don't have to become an expert at a particular method in a day. The whole idea that progress can be slow is something I need to work on, something I need to apply to everything I do. I'm getting there with losing weight and trying to get in shape. I've been trying to make bits of progress here and there. I've been trying to recognize that I can do 20min on the stationary bike at home and still feel like I did something worthwhile. And I'm trying to notice things like "hey, I haven't been snacking so much between meals lately". I don't have to lose 20 pounds in a few weeks or something. Even if the progress is slow, it's still progress.

I'm not sure if I've mentioned, and at the moment I don't feel like perusing my latest posts, I'm still getting ECT treatment but it's been every 4 weeks for pretty much the whole summer I think. Once we hit the 4 week stretch, after increasing the interval each time, the ECT psychiatrist gave me the option to stop there and see how it goes, or to do some more treatments at 4 week intervals and see how it goes. And I chose the latter. So now, Nasser and I plan to meet with the doctor on Thursday to discuss the plan moving forward. I think, or assume, that this meeting will determine that it's time to stop, but I also want to have a clear plan moving forward of how we'll check in to be sure I don't need to go back to it. My last treatment, 2 weeks ago, was... awful. Let me clarify. The treatment itself was fine although I seemed to have some more physical pain than usual, but then that physical pain seemed to last longer than it ever had before. And I seemed to have a big emotional crash as well, that didn't recover all too quickly, and maybe it's still a bit of an issue (although it's hard to tell since the boys go back to school on Wednesday and maybe I'm sick of the summer).

I feel mostly ready to be done with ECT. But then there's also this, I guess, crutch feeling to it. I'm scared to stop. I'm scared I'll stop and I'll steadily get worse and worse, but it will be hard to tell and I won't want to admit it, and then I won't want to admit or accept that I really just need another treatment boost or whatever. I'm scared it will be too hard to recognize what I need. It's always been hard to recognize that anyway. (I assume it has been, since my memory isn't all too good.)

But then I'm glad to stop and have more memory improvement. I still find it really difficult to discover things I don't remember, I find it difficult to talk with people that I don't talk with regularly and I have no memory of how much I've talked with them about my treatment or if I'm forgetting times when I did see them over this past year.

I'm glad to stop trying to figure out a bunch of logistics for every time I have a treatment.

I'm glad to stop having to deal with the fasting, the clear liquids only stuff, and the recovery over the couple to several to many days after.

I hope that this will go well. I hope I continue to have improvement in this fight. I hope that I continually find ways that really work and that I'm able to practice them and that I'm able to make some of them second nature. I hope that I can start feeling more confident in things in my life. I hope that I can feel confident enough to start and stick with choir again in a few weeks, like I plan on doing. I hope that I can keep feeling more and more confident as a parent, and really every other role I play in this life. I hope.

starlight, I will be chasing a starlight until the end of my life... our hopes and expectations, black holes and revelations

Thursday, 07/12/18, 2:59pm EDT

Apologies for the long absence. I can blame travel for some for it (which I am yet again doing), and having kids home with me for a bunch of time over their summer vacation so far. "A bunch" as in a lot more than I'm used to, not "a bunch" compared to other people out there. But then to give some perspective, "a bunch" more than others out there as well.

I actually wrote a longish draft about a month ago but never finished it and thereby never published it. This has happened before. If it gets to be long enough after writing the beginning of a post, I lose that momentum, that thought train, and it all doesn't make much sense to me anymore to bother attempting to finish it. Eh. That draft was written towards the end of that one biggish suicide week- the one with Kate Spade's suicide, Anthony Bourdain's suicide, and the release of that CDC report about the increase in suicide rate throughout the US since 1999. It was a tough week, emotionally, as suicide discussion is always difficult for me. And then, just in writing the above, I couldn't remember Anthony Bourdain's name, so I was searching through some list of notable people who have committed suicide in the 21st century, and I came across Robin Williams' name from his suicide in 2014, which had escaped my memory. And then there was just the scary length that list was. So now I'm just feeling all the feels again, as usual, of how badly I wish we could get a better handle/abatement/ or just something on mental illnesses and general wish people have of no longer existing. It just... sucks.

But. That isn't the topic I wanted to discuss today.


I want to discuss failure.

It’s something I'm quite certain I’ve brought up before, in varying degrees and contexts, but… failure.

Failure.

Failure is something that has been a really big deal in my head and I’ve continually striven to “not be a failure” which has meant I must somehow be “perfect” (since that’s the opposite?). I think a lot of my depressive thoughts have centered around “I am a failure”:

“I am a failure as a mom”,
“I am a failure because I became a mom so young”,
“I am a failure because I got pregnant out of wedlock”,
“I am a failure at using my engineering degrees”,
“I am a failure at fighting my depression”,
“I am a failure because my depression treatment finally brought me to requiring Electro-Convulsive Therapy this past year”,
“I am a failure at integrating into my life all the things I’ve learned from therapy and depression reading/research and discussions and advice from others”,
“I am a failure at staying in shape”,
“I am a failure because I’ve gained a bunch of weight in the last 2 years”,
“I am a failure because I don’t fit into the clothes I used to”,
“I am a failure because I can’t run a mile without taking walking breaks and without my feet screaming at me”,

“I am a failure because……….”

Everything. Anytime, anywhere, always. Despite that big list, it’s only the tip of the iceberg; I really could go on and on. But you really don’t want to read more than that list, you probably didn’t want to read that long of a list, and I really don’t want to continue because I also know that it could just send me down the hole when here I am, trying to write stuff to keep me out of the hole and maybe even, if possible, help others to not go down that hole.

I went to Catholic schools 1st through 8th grades, switching schools halfway through due to a move we made. Which as a side note, sucks for having to make new friends, you know?

Anyway, I was pretty smart (maybe still am, who knows?), in particular at math. In first grade I was doing second grade math. I can’t actually remember if this event happened in first grade or second, but one of the times I left my classroom to join the next grade’s math, while my class continued working on whatever it was we had been working on (because this is how it was done. Someone from the other class would come to say they were ready for me to join in, and other stuff was done in my classroom. Because apparently this special case they made for me wasn’t really done before? And maths were not taught at the same times? anyway…), apparently while I was gone, the teacher made an announcement to the class to not bring the assignment home to finish because she was concerned we’d all leave the work at home. Well of course I never heard this announcement. And of course I was learning the other math while everyone else could work on this assignment so I had to bring it home in order to work on it and catch up. And then guess what happened? Yup, you guessed it… I left my assignment at home. Because what else would a child of 6 or 7 have done? So then the next day when I told the teacher I’d left my work at home (and I wasn’t smart enough apparently, or at least not learned in the ways of standing up for myself, to say that I hadn’t been in class when she gave that announcement), she really brought me to understand how badly I messed up. And the typical punishment at that time was to put kids to stand in corners (cuz somehow that made sense??). Well I ended up in a corner behind the teacher’s desk. And then she forgot about me. And it still didn’t occur to me to stand up for myself, but I ended up there for way longer than I should have. And I stood there, silently crying. Eventually I was taken out of my punishment, but somehow any memory of the teacher making any apology doesn’t seem to exist; all I remember is the other details in rather exact perfection.

And needless to say, after that school year I decided I wouldn’t go learn the next year’s math anymore because it just wasn’t worth that kind of humiliation and that kind of crushing my spirits and that kind of origin or reinforcement of this idea that I’ve messed up/I’m a failure.

In high school and college I think I felt really good because I thrived so well academically. In high school I was always in accelerated/ advanced placement classes, I got the highest possible score on every one of the advanced placement exams I took earning me college credit. Then in college I studied mechanical engineering, which challenged me, but I guess I rose to the challenge. I did well, I graduated after four years, with one of the semesters being away and working as a co-op, and with internships for each of the summers. I even graduated “with honors” aka magna cum laude or one of those things. I’m not saying all this to brag, but to try and make out what it all has been through my life, what has been my measure of whether or not I’m a failure at that particular bit of my life. I guess I understand a little as to why I put such importance on the academic stuff, even if I don’t think it was the healthiest, especially considering how I think that attitude has probably contributed some/a lot to my current mental health issues which really manifested post kids. I’ve had some additional schooling (with my master’s degree) and some working, but I’ve felt like I haven’t done nearly enough, and I don’t feel remotely capable of going back into it, especially since the ECT treatment has destroyed so much memory. But then I don’t at all feel “enough” as a mother and continually feel like a failure there in my interactions with my kids, and I see all the other mothers around me and compare myself with them and I see how much they are able to accomplish while I can barely do anything especially when I’m constantly doing things for my mental health (and failing at that in the process).

Ok, so let’s try some different things out that don’t focus on the failure stuff so much. Oi. This sounds hard and sounds like I’m already setting myself up for failure.

Deep breath.

Listen a bit to that fantastic music running through my earbuds right now.

Remember a few things…
I love my children.
I love my husband.
I love my family and friends.
I love all those out there who struggle, with the same or similar stuff/thoughts, or with completely different mental or physical or just daily stuff.
I love… myself. (despite how badly I want to add “I think” to that statement)

Now a few more things…
from my bracelets given to me by two wonderful supportive people in my life…

“YOU ARE ENOUGH”
“You Are Braver Than You Believe Stronger Than You Seem And Smarter Than You Think”

I try to wear these bracelets almost every day, because even if I don't sit there and read them multiple times a day, or even when I really should read them as a reminder when I'm down, I think the process of putting them on in the morning is a little uplifting reminder thing that then is just part of my day. And those continuous, habitual reminders can make an enormous difference and very much help in the long run (as I believe research shows but I am too lazy at the moment to look it up and provide links).

Some more things to remember...
I try very very hard, in everything I do, in all the different roles I play in my life, as a wife, as a mother, as a family member to many, as a friend to many.
I try very hard to make the world a slightly better place, particularly in my role as a person who struggles with mental illness and has come to some capability of sharing my personal experiences with others.
I love others around me with my whole heart, even when I don't speak to them very often, even when they live far away or I hardly ever see them, even when they only have been part of my life for a short bit of time a long time ago. I love, very much.
I try to be a good person, to care about people and the world and the earth.


There are some therapies I'm considering trying out to work through some of this "I am a failure" stuff that I continually come back to. Because it is still a bit too ingrained than this post or my lists will really fix. Don't get me wrong, I think this stuff helps and will help and is very worth doing. I just think I need more help that just this.

I would love to get to a point in my life when I can truly discuss this failure stuff, or really all my mental health stuff, without feeling a bit triggered by the discussion. Without wanting to just sit down and sob. Although maybe the fact that I feel these things and yet continue to try and discuss it all with others and share my story is almost even more of an encouragement for others to get there? I don't know. I guess I'm trying to say that I want it to be easier to talk about but also not get to a point where I'm distant or disengaged with it all.

I want everyone out there to be able to recognize the need for help, to feel able/capable/free to seek the help they need, to be free of those feelings of failure that come with seeking help. I want our society, our world, to accept that all people need to feel supported in their lives, in their feelings, in their struggles. Hah, I want that perfect world, rather than that failure of a world I so often feel we're living in. But I guess we do have to continue to strive for the highest possible, without that full connotation of perfection, but maybe just general improvement, so that we don't just keep going at the level we're at. We are not failures, we don't live in failure, but there is always something to keep doing, to keep trying for, to keep improving.

I can still remember how that music used to make me smile

Thursday, 05/17/18, 9:01am, 11:34am

Hey there. Can you believe it? I'm not waiting a month between blog posts this time. Hah. Not like I won't do that next time though. Don't adjust your expectations due to this. I guess I like being a little unpredictable. :)

So. I've been rather obsessed with music recently. I mean. Not like I haven't been obsessed with music most of my life. I mean. There's the whole blog post title thing, which if you haven't noticed, is almost always a song lyric. Some of them may be a bit less known, but some are easily recognizable. And going back in time, I joined my first choir some time in elementary school (can't quite remember how old I was since my memory sucks these days). I stayed with that choir through high school and it brought me so so many amazing experiences, learning, opportunities, and friends. Some highlights were tours to Niagara Falls, Canada/ Carnegie Hall, New York/ Canterbury Cathedral, England. I was in the high school choir, performed some fun extra things in the school variety shows, dabbled a bit in choirs during college including a church choir to get some weekly fix of singing. More recently, in the last few years, I joined the local Boulder Chorale which was so wonderful but I had to take a break this year due to treatment. I wasn't about to try and learn new songs which I wasn't going to remember week to week, heh. I was going to try and do a small bit with the choir this spring for a "May the Fourth" performance with the local symphony orchestra for the live music with Star Wars viewing. That plan went down in flames when I was too depressed the day of the first rehearsal to actually attend. Oi.

Anyway. I've enjoyed recently playing a lot of favorite music when I'm doing stuff around the house, taking showers, doing exercise like running and biking (unfortunately it doesn't work too well logistically to do it while swimming), driving in the car (especially with the windows down and making the music super super loud). Yesterday I decided to make a nice list of songs I love, and that I love to sing along with, for the purpose of "when I'm in a bad state". Because singing, especially singing along to stuff I totally love, is a good mood booster for me. So I now have a Google Sheet with a list of like 15 songs so far. I have lots more to add though. :) And then of course, making the list puts me in a better mood and encourages me to pull up some of those favorites.

Haha, and now, since writing the above, I've already added several more songs to the list (it will always be in progress I think), and I've revised the list to include a bunch of other self-helpy stuff. I keep coming up with different ways to "remind myself" of ways to get myself out of the hole and keep trying to place them in places/ways that I'll know to go to when I am in that state. I have post-its still on our bathroom mirror with reminders of my good qualities, I have my latest pages on the bedroom wall of good motivational quotes, I have these index cards that I "laminated" some time ago and put in my purse so I could pull them out when needed (and I've mostly not remembered they were there),

I have various piles in my room near our bed of lovely cards I've kept from wonderful people, I have books piled up near the bed of favorite ones and self-help ones, I've printed up pictures from various times and places and events in my life that make me happy, I now have a Google Keep list started filling up one of the screens on my phone for "inspiration", and I guess I now am trying to consolidate some of that into this new spreadsheet.

I decided yesterday that I wanted to put together a "photo album" to put some of this stuff in one place. I actually ordered off Amazon today one of those self-adhesive type photo albums so I can choose to put things however and wherever I want. So like putting in some of those wonderful cards, great pictures, printed motivational quote stuff, some of my written lists for myself, maybe even write/ draw/ etc on the pages myself, in general, things I'd like to be reminded of whenever I need it (whether I'm in a bad state or otherwise). It's something I can gain some nice accomplishment feeling out of just the process of putting it together, it's a nice consolidated and physical location of a lot of this stuff that I've really worked on and been saving over the past bunch of years, it's something I think will make, and is already making, me feel some amount of happiness and pride over.

Now, as I keep jumping topics (although that's probably rather typical with my blog posts anyway), I do want to jump back to my music discussion. An idea popped in my head during my therapy session this morning. She mentioned, when we were talking about my recent obsession of music and singing, about another client who mentioned how he has a guitar in his house that he used to play but never does now. It made me think of the keyboard we have up in our guest room. I took piano lessons way back in the day and for some time, as an adult, enjoyed playing a few favorites once in a while. But I haven't played in a really long time. And. I also own a guitar that I received as a gift a long time ago but have, unfortunately, still not learned. I have some newfound intentions to start getting on that keyboard sometimes, even just to practice my scales and chords, eventually trying to pick up some of those old favorites again. And, I'd like to finally learn the guitar. I have a good friend who is in a similar situation in owning a guitar that she hasn't learned. We've talked in the past about taking lessons together. It's time to figure that out, even if we only get it into the schedule for the fall or something.

And on another separate note. I want to share about a recent (maybe) sign that I'm improving. It's been in the discussions, for it seems forever, in therapy, with doctors, in books, with others around me, this idea that I need to work on changing those bad thoughts to something less self-blaming, less negative, etc. And, for like forever, I've heard about that need and, it's felt like, have not had any success with it whatsoever. I can think, when I'm doing well, all about how to make that work. But it's always seemed that when that state hits, I can't pull myself out of those "I'm a failure" type thoughts. I may move past that bad day or whatever, but it's never felt that the "I'm a failure" thought has changed. Well. In the past week or so, I've noticed sometimes in my bad internal thinking, some very slight change to that. I've had a few successes of having a thought like "I hate myself" and somehow, right after, thinking, "wait. no. I hate the depression". Or "I'm such a failure" and then, "no, the depression makes me feel like a failure". It hasn't necessarily pulled me out of the depressive state to have these thought changer things occur. But maybe it's helped keep me from going even further down? But just the fact that I've had some of these happen, I guess gives me some added strength and proof to that "hey, maybe I can fight". Clearly, it's given me hope enough to share about it with you all.

Alright, I need to wrap this up for today. As much as I feel like I could write on and on, this is probably long enough, and I have some yard work calling me. Because I want to save lunch for afterward and it's basically lunchtime already. But hey, I'm actually going to try and accomplish some yard work. That doesn't happen very often. I guess the forecast of rain all weekend is added incentive. I suppose I haven't mentioned, we had 3 DAYS IN A ROW of hail here. Seriously. I'll leave you today with some pictures from one of those days (like the day after from hailing the night before).

And, while I'm at it, a pic from before my bike ride last Thursday.

So long, you know, until next month or something.

I look at the world and I notice it's turning, while my guitar gently weeps, with every mistake we must surely be learning, still my guitar gently weeps

Saturday, 05/12/18, 11:06am

Well I guess I'm really becoming a once-a-month blogger. Ah well.

This last month has been decently good, emotionally/mentally speaking, and we keep spreading treatments out more and more. This stretch I'm currently in is 4 weeks. Man, what a difference from the once every week time (which I think lasted a bunch of months), and then of course the 3x a week. The doctor had said, post acute phase of 3x a week, that the maintenance phase would be 6-12 months. I think I'm gonna end up longer than 12 months anyway, though that's not a bad thing and nothing to be ashamed of, but I think that I never felt like once a week was really "maintenance". To me that was more like a second phase of the treatment that was still fairly "in the thick of it" treatment. Now, with the spreading treatments out more and more, feels more like "maintenance" to me. Eh, whatever. Labels aren't exactly important.

So despite the overall "better and better", those bad days, moments, weekends, weeks still hit, and seemingly just as hard. Yesterday and today, so far, have been down in the hole despite an exceptionally good week this week. I managed really well with more evening kid responsibility due to some later work stuff that Nasser had a few of the days. I handled fights/complaining/etc with kids with, what felt like, more patience than I used to. I kept feeling more and more proud of myself. And I got in the pool and did my first bike ride in a really long time. Maybe it was the high hopes of getting back into an exercise every day routine kind of thing, and then not feeling able to yesterday, that brought me down. And I know that thoughts around tomorrow have been feeling like a big trigger. So. Yes, tomorrow is Mother's Day or whatever. Which has some of its own expectations or something. But tomorrow is also the 2nd anniversary of Adam's death. (As my longer term readers may remember, Adam is Nasser's brother who suffered from schizophrenia and was hit by a train and died the night of Friday, May 13th, 2016). I'm not actually going to spend much time discussing Adam today, not because I don't want to, but more because I'm scared that doing so or doing too much of it will just bring me down further.

I suppose that every down period for me has a trigger(s), although originally when it hit yesterday, it kinda felt like the depression just crept in and took over without me realizing it was there until it was too late. I mean, I guess I shouldn't say "too late" because it's not like it's ever too late. I recover and get through these down periods. But during them, it almost always feels like I never, ever will. I turn to the thoughts of "I hate my life", "I'm never going to be better", "why do I even try?", "nobody cares about me", "I'm a failure", "I'll never succeed at anything in life ever again", "I should just give up", etc, etc. It's overwhelming, it makes me sob and sob, it makes me feel like all my lists of "things to do when the depression hits" won't actually help, it makes me crawl further and further into my hole without being able to see or recognize any way out.

But then there are those little, tiny things that maybe seem slightly better, like just barely show that maybe, just possibly, I'm fighting, you know, at least a little. So like, above, when I stopped myself in the "too late" statement. And last night, when Nasser was putting the boys to bed, I started feeling like it was taking him a long time. And I started going into the thoughts that maybe he was hanging out in their room longer because he didn't want to spend time with me. And maybe he doesn't really love me. But I had the brief thoughts of, "no, this is what the depression wants you to feel. this isn't actually real". And after thinking that last night, it didn't like pull me out of the depression, but I guess it was kind of a start. Nasser told me that just having those little thoughts that fight the depressed thoughts is HUGE. It may be baby steps, but it's in the right direction.

A couple weeks ago, when I was in a bad state for a few days, I printed up all these mental health stuff that I had found on Pinterest, of all places. I had made myself a board called "for me" and filled it with these little pictures with good motivational, mental health related quotes. Then with all my printouts, I put together a bunch to hang up in my bedroom. This was the end result, that I'm currently calling my "wall of strength".

To me, they are all wonderful in so many ways, and I so want to blow them all up in this blog for you to see. I have a couple though that I'm picking out to draw your attention to.

They all totally make me tear up and choke up and yet, all in a good way. Like they give me strength every time that I see them. I am trying, I am always trying, even when it feels like I'm not trying or that I'm going to fail. I keep taking those steps to move forward. And even if this fight will never really end, for as long as I live, I am always trying, I am always fighting for those good moments/ days/ weekends/ weeks/ months/ whatever. I am fighting for those I love, I am fighting for those with their own fights, I am fighting for those who have lost their fight and have gone on to whatever lies beyond, and I am fighting for life itself.

This year, we are doing more of a Mother's Day celebration for me today, rather than tomorrow. Nasser made chocolate, chocolate chip muffins this morning, per my request. And we're basically doing whatever I want today, even though the depression has made it hard for me to figure out if there is anything I do want. We are going to the pool this afternoon though, and I think lunch and dinner are all up to me. I wanted to make today a substitute Mother's Day in some regard because it felt really conflicting to try and figure out ways to honor Adam tomorrow and yet also do Mother's Day activities. And then I'm also working on removing my expectations of a "perfect" Mother's Day and the "perfect" way to honor Adam, etc. I need more accepting in my life and less expecting. But then, baby steps.

walk into the jaws of hell (sit down, stand up)

Wednesday, 04/11/18, 12:37pm, 8:45pm

Oi. You know, I've thought seriously about writing several times over the last few weeks, and then I've either gotten too busy with kids or changed my mind about wanting to write or I've gotten into a really sucky junky crappy mood. We've had some really good visitors this past month, close friends, but that also can make for a bit more stress. Cuz I put extra things on my shoulders like I really need to keep the house clean/straightened up/whatever. We had spring break in there too, 2 separate trips to Winter Park for some skiing, so it's been a bit busy. On Saturday during the second week of spring break, Nasser convinced me to start up reading the Harry Potter series, yet again, since that seems to have a big influence on making me feel better. So I'm currently in the 5th book, and it's definitely helping a lot.

On a separate note, I gotta complain a second about the people out there who are ridiculously awkward when it comes to mental illness, and they pretend like my illness and treatment don't exist, and even sometimes pretend like I don't exist. It sucks. I do extremely hate how mental illness is treated as compared to "normal" illnesses. And yes, I get how it's improved so so much since many years ago, but it still has so far to go. I hate feeling like I said completely the wrong thing when I simply mention the word "treatment".

But then it's not like that's everyone. Most definitely not. And I so appreciate the people who aren't that. The people who actually ask how things are going with treatment. Those people who really show they care. My neighbor who walked over after catching me to actually ask how treatment is going. My nurse at treatment on Monday (although all the nurses show they care every time) who actually asked me how my blog is going. My aunt who asked my dad how I'm doing since I haven't written in awhile. My friends who message or call outta the blue to ask how I'm doing. My husband who does almost everything for me to keep up this huge huge support. Even though I have this big part of me who knows I'm supposed to focus so much on "getting better" (whatever that phrase actually means...), I have this massive guilt feeling about accepting so much help from so many others. And then I work really hard to fight that guilt, but then often feel like I have nothing left to work on the "getting better" part.

I am working on getting better though. As always.

We are slowly spreading out the treatments. I had a treatment this Monday, and the next one isn't for 3 weeks. I started up a yoga thing- it's a 30 day thing through Amazon, and I'm on day 8 for tomorrow, even though I started 2 Sundays ago. I have had to skip days here and there though. I'm hoping that this blog post today can get me a little more into the practice again. I'm reading often to avoid thinking about those things that tear me apart. I of course keep going to therapy every week. As always, I take my meds regularly every evening. My doctor at treatment on Monday said that this mood stabilizer (the one I'm finally at the right dose for) may actually take several months to truly get the full affect.

So, in general though, in this past month, since last I wrote, it's been, well, lots of ups and downs. Nasser and the doctor think that I keep improving. Little things, like the fact that my bigger stretch of down wasn't at the end of my break between treatments. It was in the middle and I improved before going in for the next treatment. And in general, I'm learning some how to improve from the crashes. At least partially, and I do have a method of getting to sleep early and taking my anti-anxiety/sleeping med when needed in order to have a better fighting chance for the next day. I have this method of reading Harry Potter in order to distract myself from the bad feelings. It's, just, hard. A lot. It's hard having a crash and feeling like there's no improvement, like ever. It's hard feeling like I'm just a really crappy person and shouldn't exist. It's hard feeling like I'm a burden on everyone around me. And it's hard to recognize that perhaps those feelings are becoming less often, because when they do show up, they're just, all-consuming.

And even looking at a day like today. It's not necessarily a good day, or a bad day. I suppose today would be called "meh" using my daily mood tracking app descriptions. I was able to do yoga, take a shower, feed myself, read some. But I'm feeling cruddy enough to have very little motivation to really do much. And I feel like I shouldn't complain since it's not like I feel horrid today. Oi. Again, oi.

I guess I don't really have much else to say today. Apologies for just being all over the place today and perhaps not having a real "point" or "purpose" to this blog post. That happens though, I suppose.

I do hope that all those who suffer from anything similar or in the same family of illnesses, or really anything, find strength within themselves to keep fighting and find lots of comfort and strength in those around them, supporting them. As always, even if I don't always say it, lots of love to you all.

I will rise up

Monday, 03/12/18, 9:49am

Well. I had another crash this past weekend, this time 2 days instead of 1. Raises a little concern in me that it lasted longer than the previous one, yet reassuring that it wasn't longer than 2 days and that I feel pretty well back to normal this morning. Ugh though, this stupid stupid illness, depression, bipolar, or otherwise; it stinks with whatever you label it. And I can do a little bit of blaming this past crash on my f'ing period, cuz you know, of course that started this weekend. Sorry, yet not sorry, for sharing this with you all (whatever, I share a ton of personal stuff as it is, right????). And the horrid cramps yesterday!!! That surely didn't help.

All the emotions were tough though this weekend, despite the lightness I may give it. Yesterday was worse than Saturday, and there was more arguing with Nasser than I would have liked, despite everything he was doing and trying to do all weekend to support me.

And there were times when it wasn't quite as bad. Several times I thought we could make it to my brother-in-law's band concert on Saturday evening and my ex-choir's (the one I'm hoping to rejoin once ECT is over and I get back to some semi-normal memory state) concert on Sunday afternoon. But then the stupid emotional crap still came along and interfered. But then there were times I thought I was on the mend. I started reading a good book and have gotten super into it (one I read and loved a while back, yet of course, don't remember), I managed to do some messaging with friends, Nasser sent me out for a decent walk yesterday despite me really pushing back on it, after kids went to sleep Saturday evening Nasser and I enjoyed listening to a "2000s hits" playlist reminding us of our college days. It is important to take comfort in the ups, and then the long stretches of good that do come along at the end of the crashes. I need to get into a better successful habit of reminding myself that "this will pass" when I'm in the middle of those crashes. It's so ridiculously f'ing hard since my brain is quite literally telling me the opposite. I hate my brain sometimes.

But. I AM going to continue this crazy fight. I AM going to continuously try my damnedest to rise above it all and survive it. I AM going to continue to fight the mental illness stigma, fight for my fellow fighters, fight to prove that these illnesses ARE real and deserve everyone's support. Perhaps I'm not doing a ton with that fight, but this is the main reason I keep this blog; I hope that sharing, sharing it ALL, can little by little break down that stigma, can perhaps show that you can fight it even when there's plenty of days that are hard, that feel like you're gonna lose, that feel like it's impossible.

Here's my fighter face this morning:

It may not look super confident, but it is a face willing to continue this fight.

life is rough, rough (get up, get up, get up)

Friday, 02/09/18, 8:48am

It feels like it's been FOREVER since I wrote, and yet it's only been like a week and a half. And then of course, previous to that time was a full month. So clearly my perspective is totally off. Which, I think I can be forgiven considering this treatment I'm still undergoing, and the memory loss that's still going on.

I should mention, after last week's post, I did end up with a bit of a "crash" later last week. It was Wednesday night (like literally right before going to bed) through Thursday night. I was expecting to crash, and yet it still came as a bit of a shock. It still made me have no clue how to deal with it and left me as helpless as ever. In the morning on Thursday, I think it was after the kids had already left for school, Nasser ended up working from home the entire morning to support me. He sat down with me after I fought with him about how I was incapable of "deep breathing". And how he "didn't understand it because (he) wasn't dealing with depression." He ended up talking me through literally each deep breath in and each deep breath out, for a bunch of breaths. And then even just those several breaths brought me back from that totally helpless, totally freaking out edge. I was really surprised to feel that. In the end, I practiced deep breathing for a good 30-40 minutes, on my own, eventually adding some happy, calming music, yet still focusing on the breath. It made such a difference. I happened to have a doctor appointment scheduled with the ECT doctor, that unfortunately was inconsistent between their schedule and ours. When the assistant called me about 15 minutes after I should have shown up, based on their schedule, we ended up just speaking over the phone, with Nasser, me, and the doctor. We discussed the crash, and how completely normal that was, and about how well I was recovering. We discussed my mood stabilizer medication and about how the latest dosage only had brought my levels to just barely therapeutic. The next dosage level is still safe and so we all decided to go up to the next level. I'm there, as of this past Monday, and plan to get my levels checked for it next week, more because I'm curious, since we have a pretty good idea that they won't go down.

The rest of last Thursday went through a few ups and downs. I did quite well, at least for the initial beginning of the kids being home in the afternoon. At some point, RG was super angry and decided to "run away". At this point, a full week later, I can't really even remember what all caused this. Anyway, he pretty quickly afterward rang the doorbell, saying he thinks he "fractured his ankle, from dropping down out of the tree he climbed. I was great in being totally empathetic, getting him ice for his ankle and taking care of him, not mentioning the whole "running away" thing. Eventually after icing, when we discovered he could walk just fine and decided his ankle wasn't actually fractured, he changed in warmer clothes and went back outside to sit in the tree on his own. After all that though, I still came back down, emotionally, and was unable to take the boys to pick up Nasser's mom from the airport, which we had planned. Of course, Nasser's mom is one of the people I should feel least uncomfortable around when I'm depressed since she understands mental illness so much. And really, hugging her after Nasser and the kids arrived home with her, was incredible heart warming.

And then, after all that, I was totally fine again when I woke up Friday morning. It was a little weird to recover that well so quickly.

I had treatment on Monday this week, and this was after having skipped ALL of last week (a big deal for me), and I discussed the crash with everyone there and got a lot of confirmation for how normal this is, how I should expect the ups and downs, etc. My nurse also reminded me of how awesome it is my commitment to the treatment, to medication changes, how my "not giving up" really speaks to my resolve to "get better". It really spoke to my heart. I did have a bit of a down trend the later part of Monday and some of Tuesday this week, but I think that was a fair amount related to the treatment. I actually got myself to go for a short walk on Tuesday, unlike most day after treatment days, when I'm so tired and out of it still that I typically allow myself to lay around the house all day. I'm also getting into more of a schedule for exercise, running especially, since I still have that half marathon coming up in only, well, 3 months. Considering my current shape though, it's just barely, maybe, enough time to be ready for it.

Oh, and at treatment on Monday, we decided to push the next treatment, to, well, 16 days. The longest yet. Big, big deal in my mind.

And, I ended up talking a bit about my crash with my therapist this week. She reminded me of an analogy she used some time ago, that I've since forgotten, you know with my unreliable memory. She sometimes related the downs, the crashes, to getting your period. It's not really a surprise for it to show up, it's not pleasant certainly, but I do have the "supplies" to deal with it. And even things as bad as suicidal thoughts can be related to really awful cramps, I may respond with "aw crap!", but I do know that I'll get through this. Now certainly it's not a perfect analogy, but it did do a lot in my brain to, maybe, up my confidence in my ability to deal with the downs.

So anyway, despite a few downs, I'm still on this "better" trend, which I also still can't quite believe a lot of the time. But working on learning my new "normal".

Including this picture from this morning... me and Nasser enjoying some special Blue Bottle coffee that we've been receiving on delivery for awhile, a gift from my sister-in-law. I laugh out loud at TK in the background, possibly literally in the air on his bouncy ball, that he yesterday discovered hiding in the basement.

Cheers to everyone out there.

over here, come slowly, come slowly to me, I've been waiting, patient, patiently

Tuesday, 02/27/18, 12:56pm, 2:14pm

Hey there.

The last time I wrote a blog post was just over a month ago. Literally. Friday, 01/26/18. And... this past month has been, well, a bit of a change, I'd say. And I guess there's a bit to catch you up on.

The week after that last post, I ended up doing a "burst" of treatment, so I ended up with ECT Monday, Wednesday, and Friday that week. That week, I felt like a bit of a failure, but the burst was important for stabilizing me. I felt, like, working hard for a bit after that, then at some point in the couple weeks after that burst, I realized I was doing quite a bit better. I took some rather big enjoyment out of a ski trip we did 2 weekends ago to Crested Butte, Colorado, along with several other families. It was nice. Then last Tuesday, after the trip, I had probably my most productive, busy day in a really long time. I had a therapy appointment in the morning, went swimming at the Y right after, quickly rushed to my dentist appointment right after that, had lunch with Nasser next, then went to our ski boot-fitter place to get my boots adjusted a bit, rushed to get gas in my car and do a quick grocery trip, all just barely in time to make it home and get to the bus stop in time. Another big milestone was this was my very first true grocery trip in a really, really long time, like probably since before starting ECT last June. Let that sink in a minute. I bought real food this time, things like raw meat and vegetables for cooking real dinners. Then, that evening, I COOKED dinner, again probably the first time I did so since before starting ECT last June. Honestly, last Tuesday, I went through all these activities rather well, surprisingly easily, but I was totally shocked that this happened, that I accomplished so much.

Last Wednesday, I had treatment, and I was in a fantastic mood telling my nurse and doctor about how well I was doing and how well I felt. My doctor and I talked about this mood stabilizer I'm on, the one I finally reached the "therapeutic dosage" on February 8, got my blood work on the 15th to measure the levels of this med in my blood, and so we discussed the levels. Apparently I metabolize this med rather quickly, because we knew that with the first blood work, but strangely, at twice the med dosage, I'm less than double the levels in my blood. But I am now in the therapeutic range, so it probably does make sense that I'm doing better. I even have the option of upping the med a little further, like that dosage is still safe. We decided to skip treatment this week, and I'm going next Monday.

It's weird, the whole "feeling better" thing. Like, I've been very cautious about it, a bit worried that any second I'm going to come crashing down. But the other thing is, like, I've been using this mood tracking app, "Daylio" (maybe I've mentioned it before), and I've been super good about using it since starting ECT. Well, here's the thing: there's an enormous difference between this month and last month. January, I was mostly "meh" (the middle rating), with some "good", but quite a few in the "fugly" and "awful" ranges (the lower 2 ratings). This month, I've been mostly "good", with some "meh", and 1 "awful" (no "fugly"). It's nice to have some data to back things up.

My therapist today talked about tapping in to the appreciation thing as often as possible, instead of worrying about the crashing down thing as much. She was concerned that if I let myself get carried away with worrying, I could even bring on the depression that way. We talked about getting into the habit of coming up with 2 things I'm grateful for during a lot of the more simple, mundane activities, like going grocery shopping, picking up my kids from the bus, etc. Cuz I did do a lot of appreciating with last week's grocery run, but getting into the habit of it that way will keep it going, maybe as I fall into some kind of "normal" at some point.

So today, TK is home sick from school, and Nasser is working from home today to help out, so I could keep my therapy appointment this morning, and he didn't mind the opportunity to play some of his new video game in between meetings. TK actually threw up yesterday afternoon, just a little bit after coming home from school. It made for a kinda busy and stressful afternoon, between cleaning up the mess, since it happened on the couch, without any bucket since we weren't exactly prepared for it, getting him everything he needed to feel comfortable and safe, etc, trying to figure out if we'd make any possibility for dinner since he didn't throw up again for some time, not until I tried giving him a little packet of applesauce, which he downed just fine, but then threw up (luckily in the little bucket this time) just before sitting down to eat some soup. It all was fine, and really, at no point did I freak out. I felt like this new state I'm in these days can handle stress a lot better than before, which by the way, is so incredibly fantastic a feeling. Late yesterday evening, TK decided he was really hungry, ate a bunch of saltines and the soup, sat on the couch for a bit, then decided he wanted to sleep on the couch. We set it all up for him, put the bucket nearby, and despite my worries that he'd throw up all that dinner, he made it all night and has been good today, just you know, spending a lot of time watching things on TV/YouTube/etc.

Poor RG didn't like the idea of having to go to school today with his brother at home. When he woke up, he was convinced he was sick too, then was really disappointed when he couldn't prove it with the thermometer. We had a big discussion about school, and how hard he thinks it is, and I, being the great parent I am, went into how "you know, it's only just going to get harder, like with high school, and then college!" and then I pulled out some old college textbooks, and even a high school one- Calculus- that we had on a bookshelf in our study. It turned out to be a good way to calm him down because he couldn't believe I had a college textbook that was 927 pages long, and he was shocked that in the front cover of the Calculus book which showed some basic principles, he didn't understand any of it (!). We enjoyed trying to explain to him how a(b + c)=ab +ac. Anyway, he was totally willing to walk to the bus when it came time, and gave me some snuggly hugs before it.

Well, anyway, the point of this post is really to tell you all how much better I'm feeling, also how I really hope this does last, and how I'm going to try my damnedest to make it last.

I love you all, I greatly appreciate all the support I've been given, throughout ECT, throughout the extent of this damn illness, and really my whole crazy life. I will try harder to write more consistently now too.

I took the turn and turned to begin a new beginning, still looking for the answer I cannot find the finish

Friday, 01/26/18, 7:31am, 9:07am

So you know I've been on this 8 week, now 10 week journey of ramping up the dosage of this new medication. This mood stabilizer for bi-polar, because maybe I'm actually bi-polar type II, aka "unipolar depression", which conveniently looks just like depression. I hit the "therapeutic dosage" at the 8 week mark, so 2 weeks ago, then a week later got some blood drawn so they could measure the levels in my blood. Turns out I do actually metabolize this drug quickly and the levels are low. Lower than the lowest accepted level of therapeutic. So in my appointment yesterday with the ECT psychiatrist (who originally prescribed this med), he gave us a plan to up the dosage, like double it actually. And luckily, now that I'm at as high of a dosage as I am, we can ramp up a bit quicker. So, you know, we'll see.

Recently, the ECT caregiver therapist who Nasser sees recommended we look into this DBT (Dialectical Behavior Therapy) intensive outpatient program that they have at the local hospital. It sounds a bit overwhelming- they meet for 3 hours, 3x a week, for 9 weeks. And of course, they meet M/W/F, which are the same days that ECT treatments are offered. So the days that I'd have both would be tough, logistically. I spoke with my therapist about it yesterday, and she had a lot of concerns over how intense the program is. We both had concerns over the fact that I'm still having a lot of trouble with my memory. I spent some time looking at some other DBT programs offered at other places in the area... I currently have 5 different tabs open on my Chromebook for various programs in the "area"; however most of them are a decent drive away.

I've been trying, at least a little bit, or however much I feel able with my depression always standing in the way, to look into methods of mindfulness or ways to encourage myself to practice it more. Cuz, yeah, I have heard plenty of how useful and helpful mindfulness is with mental illness, and yet, I can't seem to get myself to practice it regularly, or even often. (I have 6 tabs about mindfulness and methods of mindfulness open on my Chromebook currently, and I downloaded yet another app on my phone for it. Maybe one of these things will finally work.)

At various points over the last couple years, I've found interest in Quora, and in particular, the questions and answers about mental illness. There are certainly always the ones that are simply trolls, or the answers that are just mean and jerk people. I've been getting emails from Quora over the last week, over and over about the same question- "What cured your depression?" And I really haven't wanted to open it because I mean really, what would I answer if I tried? "Well, I'm not cured yet, after trying this ridiculously long list of things."??? But this morning I finally opened it, found a couple annoying answers, but found one that linked to an amazing answer to a slightly different question- "What is depression?" Not sure if I've ever read it before, or ever linked to it before, but I'm linking to it now, because EVERYONE should read this.

(Also, I know that everything I've typed so far has been rather disjointed, but that's just kinda how my thoughts are lately. So you'll just have to deal with it.)

I did appreciate this quote on the white board in the ECT office yesterday, so I'm sharing it.

I will try to appreciate that strength that supposedly or maybe I have.

how come I end up where I started? how come I end up where I went wrong?

Wednesday, 01/24/18, 10:12am

It feels like I've been down a lot lately. I've had bits of "better", like Sunday, when Nasser and I played this board game, Splendor, just about all day long. Oh and we let the boys play video games most of that time, so they were happy as can be, but that doesn't rid me of all the horrid guilt feelings of what a terrible mother I am for doing that. Despite how happy it made me. Sigh.

I told Nasser this morning, "Why is it that I feel like I need to cry like 10 times a day????" I had a psychiatrist appointment yesterday morning (this is my psychiatrist I've been with since the beginning, like 8-9ish years ago? not the ECT psychiatrist). I walked in, with Nasser, to his office and he starts asking "so how are things going?" and I couldn't even begin to answer the question without starting to cry. After the appointment, I called up a friend to see if she was available to get together and started to cry in the first sentence or so.

It is like the most frustrating thing in the world, to me, that I've had this incredibly long, extensive mental health journey, trying unbelievably hard to get better, seeing as much progress as we did after starting electro-convulsive therapy last June and feeling so hopeful, and yet, I still feel like such a failure a lot, maybe most, of the time. I still blame myself for not being further along with the getting better process. I still see myself interact with my kids and hate myself for not doing things a million times better. I still look around at the house and blame myself for not being motivated enough to get simple things done, more often, more regularly, more consistently. And I know, some of this stuff is normal, some of this stuff everybody feels. But with me, all this stuff equates, in my head, to things like I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be alive. I don't deserve to be alive.

I question writing that here in my blog. Because admitting that kind of stuff is dangerous. It can make other people say "well you need to be in the hospital" or "well you shouldn't be in charge of your kids".  Etc, etc, etc. And maybe this won't calm you down about that stuff, but in case it does, we really are handling it. I do recognize in myself when it's those self-blame, not wanting to be alive thoughts that are kinda habit thoughts at this point versus the ones that feel more dangerous. And I still know when to ask for more help. And I am still incredibly honest about all those things with Nasser, my most important support person in my life. And when I do go in for an ECT treatment, which is still rather often, I do fill out the questionnaire beforehand about how I'm doing and I talk with the nurses and my doctor before they put me under. Despite the fact that I'm not just locked away in a hospital, things are fairly regulated and controlled in my life.

Last week, I had treatment on Wednesday (so literally a week ago). And at the time, we decided that we'd wait until next week Monday for my next treatment, so almost 2 weeks. Because for awhile now I've been going once a week, and I've been wanting to spread them out more, probably because I feel like I "should". Now, this week, I'm questioning the judgement to skip this week. But then I'm also questioning whether or not ECT is really helping much anymore. I'm questioning whether or not anything I'm doing is helping.

Ugh, it all just sucks. Depression sucks. Mental illness sucks. Like really really really sucks. And if you don't have it, or don't know firsthand someone who has it, it's almost impossible for you to really understand that. So read my blog and try to empathize and try to understand it. Because understanding mental illness, at least a little bit, makes you a much, much, much better person. Just like how that's true with pretty much everything in life. Understanding something, and having the ability to empathize with what other people suffer in life, makes you so much better. Always.

Short post today, because I can't handle more right now. Right not I gotta attempt a workout (did I mention I'm trying really really hard to get this back into a daily habit thing???), maybe drop off some donation stuff to rid the house of some "too small" items from my children, and see if there's anything else "productive" I can manage. Cuz those things can often be good confidence boosters, and really, I need as much confidence as I can possibly get.

breathe, keep breathing, don't lose your nerve

Thursday, 01/18/18, 10:09am

It's been awhile since I last wrote a blog post. It's been over a month. And for me, that's a crazy long time.

I suppose there's several reasons I haven't written. There were the holidays which were certainly not on the easy side. At some point I felt like I couldn't remember what I'd written since starting ECT and I thought I had to re-read all of it. I still haven't accomplished that, but today I figured "what the hell?" And I've also been working on this new medication, ramping up process. So back at the beginning of December I talked about how we think I might be bipolar type II. And because of that, I've been trying a new mood stabilizer. Unfortunately it's been an 8-week process to get me to the therapeutic dosage. As Nasser put it at one point, it's been like I've been on nothing. We've been increasing the medication dosage a little bit every 2 weeks, and as of last Thursday, I hit that therapeutic dosage. However, now I need to get some blood work so they can check the med levels in my blood (we may have to increase the dosage due to that). And we'll also have to see how things are going for a little bit to determine whether or not the medication is working. I'd been thinking that things were going a bit better (although we also had a weekend away from the kids, in the mountains, over Martin Luther King Day Weekend), but then I haven't been doing so well since yesterday afternoon/evening, after having treatment earlier in the day. I guess I'm slightly, very slightly, doing better than I was right before bed last night. But so far today, it's been rather difficult to find something I actually want to do. And so I figured I'd try my blog, I guess.

I was asking Nasser this morning whether or not ECT has actually done anything for me. He thinks it has. He said that certain things that I've learned over the years in therapy I wasn't as willing to do/try before ECT. He thinks that ECT has made me more open to trying different things to make me better. (Today is one of those days though, where I just feel completely unwilling to listen to any of that, completely unwilling to try anything, etc. It's just a shitty day.)

I worry that I just, really can't do it. Can't be a parent, can't be a wife, can't be a daughter, can't be a sister, can't be a friend. I just utterly feel incapable of handling those roles. There are so many days I wish I didn't have this f*ing, life-crushing disease. People see me smile and assume that I'm totally better. So many people don't seem to understand that all of it is a process, a journey, that may never end, not until I hopefully die a natural death at an old age. I get good days, I get incredibly awful days, I got tons of, what my daily mood tracking app calls "meh" days.

I know I've been super negative this blog post so far. Here, I've got something more positive from ECT yesterday; it was in the waiting area.

Sometimes I remember that, and sometimes I don't. After seeing this and it speaking to me as it did, I think I'll be trying for this a bit more. We'll see how it goes.

I am continuing to read, as I was last month when I wrote. I had been re-reading the Harry Potter books, but silly me ended up re-reading them twice, in like a 3-4week period. It made sense in my head to do this, because after finishing the first re-read, I hadn't remembered all the story really. So I wanted to re-read it again, knowing everything.

Anyway, now I'm re-reading the Mistborn trilogy, by Brandon Sanderson. It's quite good, and I just started the second book. This one feels like a "reading it for the first time again" experience, which definitely feels weird sometimes.

And I'm re-watching Doctor Who, the re-launch seasons. Oh and on Tuesday, I was thinking I was getting into working out again, but then I haven't been able yet today to continue it. I expected not to workout out yesterday, due to treatment, but I wasn't expecting this depression to crash over me and prevent me from getting up from the couch. I guess we'll see what happens, what I'm able to accomplish, if anything.

I'm going to leave it there today, with the hope that next time I'll be a bit more positive.