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.

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.

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.

this is the sound of all of us, singing with love and the will to trust

Saturday, 10/21/17, 12:54pm

I felt the first twinges of depression when I was a pre-teen, middle school/ junior high -ish age. I can't remember exactly. I do remember that I felt lots and lots of suicidal thoughts then. It was often, probably almost continuous, and something I didn't tell a single other soul at the time. I simply thought I was screwed up, I was wrong and different, and I certainly was nowhere near normal.

Today I felt a rush of those feelings I felt as a pre-teen come back from a video I watched. It was this amazing 7th grader delivering a poem she had written about the societal pressures on girls and coming to terms with "you are good enough". It's worth a watch.

In watching her poem, I was reminded of how alone and wrong and awful I felt at that age. I was reminded of how, when my hormones calmed down or whatever, in high school and college, I pretended like that part of my life had never happened. I still didn't talk about it, I still had no idea how I had "gotten over it" or whatever, and I probably just embraced the stinking stigma even more. Perhaps it's part of the reason my depression hit so hard the second time around. Perhaps it's part of the reason I was/am treatment-resistant.

My mother-in-law is in town this weekend, this is Adam's mother of course. She has become even more involved with NAMI and such since Adam's death, and she was telling us about this NAMI conference she went to in Chicago this past week. She attended the keynote on suicide prevention and was telling us about what she'd learned. It was so... touching/moving/tear-jerking to hear about some of these things that are known and taught and are, from my experience of feeling suicidal at many points in my life, so right on. She talked about how the biggest deterrent for people from acting on their thoughts is thinking they won't succeed. (So true).

She also talked about a man who spoke to them about having survived a suicide attempt of jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge, I think one of the ones in this story.

Here's the video of the one man telling his story, also worth a watch (whew, personally sobbed through this one, big time, but again worth.the.watch.):

Sorry, dear readers, that this is such a heavy, heavy blog post. It's important stuff though, stuff that I think I tend to gloss over more often than not. And even though I'm doing so, so much better than I was just a few short months ago, it doesn't mean that all of this is gone. The depression that hit about a week and a half ago was hard. And not devoid of these thoughts. I think that I had had these really high expectations, since "getting better" from ECT, these expectations that I'd never feel the "I want to die" thoughts again. And maybe that's why it hit as hard as it did that day. Because I had convinced myself that I'm too much better for those thoughts.

I don't really know what recovery totally looks like. I know that I have a lot more good days than bad these days, LOTS more. So I consider that recovery. I know that typically when depression hits now, it's not as hard as it used to be. So I consider that recovery. But I guess it probably doesn't mean that it will never hit as hard as it used to. And that can still mean recovery.

I've never acted on the "I want to die" thoughts. I've never cut myself, or attempted suicide. I suppose that doesn't mean that I never will, despite the recovery. But surrounding myself with people who love and support me helps, and keeping up with mindfulness/meditation activities helps, and seeing my therapist and psychiatrist regularly helps, and continuing to find new and extra ways to help helps. The battle never really ends, and I can never really be, well, off my guard.

But that can still mean recovery. And I can still revel in that.

To finish, some fall colors from yesterday's run attempt, which turned into a walk to finish. And some yardwork to get ready for the big town compost pickup this morning. And TK's last soccer game.

Oh and one more thing. Today is World Singing Day, which we didn't attend the event in Boulder for it today, but I still hold it dear in my heart. I am not doing choir this year, because of treatment and getting better and all that, but I do miss it in so many ways, and I miss regularly singing, even though I've picked it back up for boys' bedtimes again more recently.

some things are different, some the same, some turn over, some don't change, time and music all forgive, and in the best of friends the spirit lives

Wednesday, 01/11/17, 8:29am, 10:14am

I was about to say "not much to update", but that's not true. I am still in a minefield of depression holes (as it feels), I cry literally at almost everything. The latest med situation has officially ended, as of Sunday. This med I was on has this low chance of causing a rash, which as it turns out, can become fatal. Wow, real great, right? But low chance, right? Well, I noticed a few rashy spots on my midsection on Saturday evening, so yeah. Medication no more.

So what's next? Transcranial magnetic stimulation, or TMS, hopefully. I did mention this one in the past, but wasn't sure if we'd get to this point or not. And here we are. Sorta. I haven't even met with the doctor who does this treatment yet, don't even have an initial consultation until after my doc has chatted with him and they all agree I'm a candidate for this treatment. Hopefully they don't decide that I'm not.

From what I understand, this would be an everyday (Mon-Fri) treatment for about a month or so. But some people are literally cured after having this treatment. So that's pretty incredible. And as described from the Mayo Clinic, "You can return to your normal daily activities after your treatment. Typically, between treatments, you can expect to work and drive." And that's really good, especially as compared to ECT.

And yet, I'm terrified. Maybe because this is a newer treatment, and maybe it's because I've read in too many places that the treatment doesn't necessarily work as well for people who've had depression for several years (yup, that's me), and maybe it's because this treatment is very different from things I've tried so far, and maybe it's because of all the unknowns. I suppose I don't even know for sure if, or when, I'll start the treatment. I have the right to be scared, even if there's hope in the situation too. There's no reason to beat myself up over feeling scared. But I do that too, thanks to the depression.

My therapist ran through a list of depression symptoms this week to help remind me that all these symptoms I have are truly due to the depression, and not my fault. So we're going to repeat some of those here.

From the Mayo Clinic, the intro on depression:

Depression is a mood disorder that causes a persistent feeling of sadness and loss of interest. Also called major depressive disorder or clinical depression, it affects how you feel, think and behave and can lead to a variety of emotional and physical problems. You may have trouble doing normal day-to-day activities, and sometimes you may feel as if life isn't worth living.

More than just a bout of the blues, depression isn't a weakness and you can't simply "snap out" of it. Depression may require long-term treatment. But don't get discouraged. Most people with depression feel better with medication, psychological counseling or both.

Hah, yeah, I suppose from that I'm not "most people". Ok so here's the symptom list:

• Feelings of sadness, tearfulness, emptiness or hopelessness
• Angry outbursts, irritability or frustration, even over small matters
• Loss of interest or pleasure in most or all normal activities, such as sex, hobbies or sports
• Sleep disturbances, including insomnia or sleeping too much
• Tiredness and lack of energy, so even small tasks take extra effort
• Changes in appetite — often reduced appetite and weight loss, but increased cravings for food and weight gain in some people
• Anxiety, agitation or restlessness
• Slowed thinking, speaking or body movements
• Feelings of worthlessness or guilt, fixating on past failures or blaming yourself for things that aren't your responsibility
• Trouble thinking, concentrating, making decisions and remembering things
• Frequent or recurrent thoughts of death, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempts or suicide
• Unexplained physical problems, such as back pain or headaches

Yup, yup, got pretty much all of them. woop dee doo. But it really helps to recognize that all these things I'm feeling are truly symptoms of my illness. I feel like I'm constantly reminding myself that yes, this is an illness, this is not my fault. And there's this really annoying part of my brain that is constantly like, this is your fault, you are a failure. Blech, I hate those thoughts, and I really do try so hard to fight them and to counter them, like with affirmations, and try to focus on the thoughts I do want, like with mindfulness, but it feels like a constant struggle.

And with the state I've been in lately, I've felt like I'm constantly complaining about this, and then that makes me feel like a burden to others. UGH, I'm NOT a burden. Sigh. I feel like these thoughts pop up, and my response to my brain is always, shut the fuck up, Alisa. I have such horrid self-talk. Nasser reminds me that at least I'm recognizing the negative self-talk more, but it still feels like a failure when I see it but can't seem to change it. As I've learned in therapy though, it all takes a lot of time and a lot of effort to change those thought patterns.

As usual, we're working on it, and I've really had a lot of support. Whether it's emails or texts of kind words or forwarded articles, or meals (omygosh a friend of mine set up a meal train for us right now which is absolutely incredible), or hugs, or just love. I am eternally grateful to every person who has ever supported me in any way, even if I have a hard time right now showing my gratitude.

There are still options, we are not out of hope, and my illness truly is NOT the end of the world. I know that, and I know I have so much in my life to be grateful for, and sometimes knowing that simply causes me to self-stigmatize even more. Blech. Blech. Blech.

It's ok. Or at least hopefully it's gonna be ok.

Again, it is an illness, not a weakness.

Here was me the other day on a tough day, with an attempt at a smile. I don't show my eyes to many lately, if I can manage to hide them, because it seems they constantly show recent crying. Oh well.

I've paid my dues time after time. I've done my sentence but committed no crime.

Tuesday, 01/03/17, 11:12am

Remember how I was changing meds "one last time"? It didn't really help, at all from what we could tell. And as of almost 2 weeks ago, I'm on one more "one last time" med. It's a really slow ramp up to full dosage so... it just feels like it's going to take that much longer to kick in. That is, if it does kick in. Ugh, I am so pessimistic about everything lately, but I need to keep an open mind about this one. It's not even an antidepressant, so technically now I'm on no antidepressants at all. But this newest med I'm on has shown benefit for depression when nothing else has worked, so maybe I'm a good candidate after all.

I'm getting really exhausted with trying new meds. Obviously I get some benefit from them all, since they seem to kick in a little and remove some of the overwhelming crush of depression that is constantly present while we're waiting for meds to work. Because yeah, this has kinda been a "crushing" depression the last week and a half since stopping the antidepressants. I've been crying at the drop of a hat and at each kindness I've received from loving friends and family. A dear friend brought over dinner last night, which was amazing. The whole "cooking dinner" thing has been a big failure challenge of mine the last half year or so.

It's been so frustrating that I feel like I want to get better, but maybe I'm not motivated to do things for myself that may help. Mindfulness, exercise, showering, blogging, even brushing teeth, have felt overwhelmingly impossible, and everytime I want to do one of those things, but fail, it's this overwhelming crush of "it's all my fault." For a long time, this stupid effing depression, has felt like "it's all my fault." I don't understand why, rationally, I completely understand that this is truly an illness and I don't have control over it (maybe I have tools that help, like from therapy, but that's almost nothing like "control"), and yet I still self-stigmatize. Ugh, and I hate myself for it. Why do I always have to find reasons to hate myself????

Why? Why? Why? Because it's a fucking illness, and these things (self stigmatizing, self shaming, self loathing) are all symptoms. Sigh. UGH. BLECH.

Have I made it clear enough how much I hate the depression?

This should have been a positive post. A post looking forward to 2017 and things that may help and things I intend to work on this year. And I'm having trouble finding anything positive to say.

Ok.

It's 2017. It's a new year. Who knows what this year might bring? I know I have some vague new years' resolutions, but I am going to keep them private. Sure, I know we're more likely to keep them when we share, but that can also be extremely dangerous for me in the expectations I set for myself, and the self-shaming I do if I am not doing as well on my intentions as I want to (and being a perfectionist, I always want to do things better than is ever reasonable or possible). For now, for this year, we have some big hopes (not really resolutions) regarding my depression and treatment. But if they aren't fulfilled, it is NOT a failure. Just have to get that out there now, before those "what if" thoughts even start.

It's not much but my positive thought today is about hope. Hope for good things this year and always. Hope for love, and for gratitude. Hope for peace and collaboration and empathy in the world.

everyday (everyday) I try, and I try, and I try

Wednesday, 12/21/16, 8:57am

I am in a hole this morning. One of those stupid stupid holes that shouldn't be there, that should never have made me fall, there was no fucking good reason for it, and yet it happened.

I hate depression so much. You know, it really is not just a matter of "thinking positively" or powering through or whatever else you may be thinking. It's there and nothing seems to give relief these days. I try and I try and I try, and it doesn't work.

Imagine that the thoughts that occur in your brain can't be trusted. Imagine that you are expected to question every thought that pops in that head, and you're a failure if you trust the wrong thought. That's what it feels like to have depression, and really it may feel that way for most mental illnesses. Oftentimes, my brain will interpret something as hurtful, or judging, and I discover (or Nasser points it out to me) that the interpretation might be wrong, and I just cycle downward that much more. I discover that my brain has failed me again, that I have failed myself by not questioning those thoughts and I didn't stop myself from feeling hurt or sad or depressed by those thoughts, and yet again, I've been proven to be a failure.

A failure.

That is my hot thought, almost every time. And everything that I look at within myself seems to prove that thought more and more when I'm depressed.

Mindfulness is supposed to help. Cognitive behavioral therapy is supposed to help. Medications are supposed to help. Am I a failure because these things aren't helping enough? Because maybe I'm just not involved in my own mental health as I should be?

I don't know. I really don't know.

No.

It's not a failure because it's a disease. It's not a failure because my disease is likely "treatment resistant" at this point. It's not a failure.

I am trying. I've been trying. For a long. fucking. time.

And I guess I will keep trying. Forever and ever and ever even though that just sounds like a life sentence this morning.

I am not a failure.

Because I try. Because I care. Because I love. Because.

insanity laughs under pressure we're breaking, can't we give ourselves one more chance

Friday, 11/04/16, 8:30am

I have limited time this morning, and I had several things on the agenda, but here I am blogging instead. Hopefully that ends up being a right decision. And I say "a" right decision, not "the" because I think I've always felt that multiple decisions in life could be right.

What I mean is, for example, when I was considering college, I felt that I could get a similar experience at multiple schools. For me, I never had to go "visit colleges" because I felt that there were many similar options and it would be too difficult to narrow down such similar places and then agonize over which school was "the right one". Plus, for me, I had one very obvious choice that I was gonna go through with. I lived in Illinois, so clearly the in state schools were going to be the best financial options. The University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign was great for engineering, which I was planning on pursuing, my siblings had all gone there and had great experiences, it was close but not too close to home, plus my brother would be there in his senior year, during my freshman year. And even though I really liked Madison, and the campus there, and there were some things I really liked about Wisconsin, I was too lazy to find scholarships to make it a good financial choice. And I don't believe that the education would have been significantly different, I'm so happy with the experiences I got at U of I, and I love the friendships I made that I wouldn't trade a single thing. But I do believe if I had gone with a different school, my experiences would have been just as "one of a kind" and special that I wouldn't trade anything there. There were many "right" options there, and so I wouldn't agonize over those.

I think I do agonize over things that have happened in my life more recently. I need to remember that had my life gone differently, there certainly would have been other challenges that wouldn't make that alternate universe life any better. And I love the big things in my life as it is. My children, Nasser, my friends and family.

So, not to quickly change topics, but I will anyway. I'm on this fantastically supportive and motivating group on facebook called MRTT (Moms Run This Town). It's a running group. :) One of the moderators of the group (in our local chapter, I don't follow any national one, but there are these groups all over the place), who I know in real life, and she is an amazing person, posted about having seen the movie, Embrace. You should watch the trailer, people, right now, here. Also I keep re-watching it, over and over this morning, and keep crying at the end. Watch it, even if you feel like you don't want to cry right now. It was tears of joy.

I have to figure out how and when I can see this movie, which I'm currently finding here. And yes, there is a screening coming up in my area that I might be able to make work and has availability, sa-weeeet. Mental note, must decide and buy tickets, like today. Haha.

My friend's post on the running group was an inspiration she had from watching this movie. She asked us to "tell us something that your body has enabled you to do that brings a huge smile to your face, something you are proud of!"

I responded that first off, my body birthed two children. And then I talked about these accomplishments from over the summer. I reposted this picture,

which for me really reminds me of how I felt after the Olympic triathlon, full of joy, and in tears over the feeling of my accomplishment. At the simple completion. Not over how great I felt or how awesomely I did, because I did not have much confidence in either at the time, but the pride in what my body did.

My friend, in her response, reminded me of what my body continues to do with regards especially to my children, in "feeding them, holding them, loving them". I did and do all that too. :)

It's good to feel pride in our accomplishments, whether they be of the body, or of the mind. I suppose that though it feels I haven't done much since those summer athletic accomplishments (which is totally NOT truly, Alisa, like remember the runs, the bike rides, the 14er attempt?), I've also made some mind accomplishments in blogging, in learning the right ways for me to reach out for support, and in mindfulness. I've switched medications which was and still is a challenge.

We're always making accomplishments with our minds and bodies, especially when we become more mindful and focused, but it's also good to recognize them, big or small, and remind ourselves of them when we're feeling low.

I've been taking a variety of photos the last few days. And I will finish with this random assortment.

morning sunrise

quality Buddy time, petting in the sunlight

I made pumpkin bread, in the crockpot. 

didn't work that well, overdone on the outside, because I cooked it so long 

to complete cooking of the middle. RG said he doesn't like this one as much. 

oh well, such are experiments.

I made whipped cream, to go with the pumpkin bread I guess?

hmmm, I've been forgetting about that existing in the fridge...

the Cubbies won the World Series, you guys. for the first time in 108 years. woah.

I love seeing one of our Cubs fans neighbors' pride on the way to/from our park/busstop.

(I say one of our Cubs fans neighbors because we have several...)

TK and I were making a list for the day. I wrote the stuff we "needed" to do, 

he wrote the stuff he wanted to do. I think we accomplished everything he wrote.

ah, I changed the sheets on our bed to comfy flannel sheets, because the nights have been cold.

also, Buddy the cat, may have felt a little trapped while I was making the bed.

a bunch of shots of my TK buddy from yesterday. he was dancing to snoopy music videos, biking with me running, and playing at the park. although my mood wasn't up to par yesterday, we did a lot. 

in this town of Halloween

Tuesday, 11/01/16, 9:12am

Wow, it's November already. My "blogiversary" is coming up in just a few more days. It'll be a year that I will have been writing.

It's weird to think how much the blog means to me. How much I come back to it, even just to reread earlier posts. I'm quite sure it helps me a lot; my therapist most recently pointed out how when I've talked about it, I've only basically raved about how much it helps me. Hah.

On my run yesterday, I think I was practicing mindfulness decently well. I kept taking pictures- selfies and scenery. It's been a long time since I've ran. It felt really good for the first mile and a half, but then the rest wasn't so great especially with the foot pain from my (relatively) new shoes.

I think my shoes are a half size too small. Crap.

Actually if they made them in quarter sizes, I would be set. I need to be a women's 8.75 size. Haha. 9.25 in running shoes.

My run was fantastic in so many ways. Late fall beauty and late summer temps.

2.99 miles total (there was no way in hell I was going to force myself to get that extra 0.01 miles yesterday), not too shabby, but I wish it all had felt much better. And I wish my feet didn't hurt so much from the shoes. I feel like I've now run in them too many times to return them. Crap.

Then after the run, after eating something and taking a shower, I proceeded to face paint. 

It really didn't look right at the first part of the day, the Halloween parade at the boys' school, since I only had time for the white. But I looked creepy as hell at school. Hah!

RG was a kitty of course, but barely looked like he was in costume (he wore mostly black with a tail and ears). Sigh. Oh well. I suppose I was selfish with effort towards costumes this year, but the boys only wanted to be kitties! And had no interest in face painting on whiskers.

I'm the bad mom who didn't capture any good photos of the boys yesterday, and the parade was difficult to get a good shot of RG anyway, but I did get some good ones of the principal leading the parade, dressed as a construction contractor (funny to everyone there because they're currently undergoing construction of the new school on the same campus, so this entire school year is nuts with school continuing in the old building and construction going on of the new building). Anyway, literally the entire gym was chuckling at his costume and demeanor. I love our kids' school! Also, in a previous year, he dressed up as Matt Smith as the Doctor.

I was not the only parent who dressed up. Thankfully. There were few of us though. Sigh.

Here's the best I looked later on in the afternoon.

But then something happened. RG and I got into a fight about quitting the Kindle time (he really hadn't had much though at that point) and getting to Nasser's work for trick-or-treating there. It all just went to hell. RG stormed off upstairs saying he wasn't going and then eventually when we were all on the phone with Nasser talking it through, I got further depressed. I ruined a bunch of the face paint, then said well now I can't go anywhere and we decided to skip the work trick-or-treating and Nasser came home. Poor TK was especially disappointed in that I think. Sigh.

I recovered. Miraculously. It took some time, the kids got some "educational shows", which was fine in a lot of ways because I think they needed that downtime to do well later too. Nasser and I touched up my face, a lot, and then we headed out.

It ended up being a good night. Quality time spent with neighbors, some of whom we haven't known as well. There were two wagons brought along in the group, with adult beverages. I, of course, skipped that part, which was fine. It all was fun, we laughed, we scolded kids when they were climbing over too many bushes to shortcut their way to the next house, we reminded them to say thank you. And when we hit our cul-de-sac, our little family cut out a tad early. We needed it, we needed the time at home for the kids to peruse their candy before getting to bed, a tad later than normal, which was about where we needed it to be.

I feel the wind a blowin’, slowly changing time

Thursday, 10/20/16, 12:06pm

Uggg, I suppose I'm doing "better" today and yesterday, at least in comparison with Tuesday. But not fantastic, not amazing, not great, barely ok actually. Getting through therapy yesterday, with Nasser there, wasn't super easy. He went in hoping to get some ideas on how to support me better, and I felt like the main conclusion was just, Alisa needs to do a better job on her own, without relying so heavily on Nasser. I think Nasser did get some ideas, but they tend to focus on giving me more "power over my recovery" or something like that.

I feel like I'm just constantly faced with the conclusion that I'm not doing a good enough job in fighting the depression, and that just further demoralizes me and then makes the depression worse. And I continue to just do a worse and worse job at fighting it. God, I suck at life, don't I?

Let's try not to go there though. It's way too easy to cycle downward with those thoughts.

One of the things we talked about was making a really good list of like 10 things I can do when I'm in a hole. I suppose I've done exercises like this before, but these lists get buried in notebooks, or on handouts from therapists or my phone somewhere (maybe in one of those note apps I've attempted?) and don't end up being too comprehensive. Let's start with listing here for today. It might get added to my decorative mirror with the affirmations, and maybe also on an index card to carry in my purse at all times.

Things to help me when I'm down:

• Blog
• Go for a run or bike ride
• Deep breathe
• Yoga
• Meditation
• Go for a walk
• Distract myself with a show/movie
• Journal
• Take a bath
• Read a book
• Look at pretty pictures of the world and nature/ watch Planet Earth
• Take a shower
• Practice mindfulness

The list may change and get added to, but I feel it's a good start. That's more than 10 anyway. I could put on there "talk to a support person", but that one is tough. It's probably a good thing but I'm trying to balance it between "seeking help"/"feeling the guilt&shame of seeking help"/"trying to accept that seeking help is ok and not something to be ashamed of". And I need to learn to rely on myself more, to trust myself more, to believe in myself more.

TK is begging me to go outside so I'm just going to finish up with some pretty fall colors pictures I've been attempting lately. If I get some good enough ones, I want to do some photos to canvases sometime. Not sure I've captured quite what I want yet. Although we're really running out of those fall colors now!

we're coming to the edge, running on the water

Sunday, 10/16/16, 9:43am

(Side note at 1:40pm, I was all ready to scrap this post, because I got to a lower state and I thought I sounded too optimistic here, if that gives you any gauge of how I'm doing... whatever. I'll post it anyway and hope that it's hopefulness at the end picks me back up.)

For a little while now, I've been less interested to blog when I'm in a crappy mood. I feel like I've had to force myself to blog during a low, whereas I used to feel a need for the blog before. I think it probably has a little to do with the fact that I do share my blog more widely now and more people can know about my lows.

I think I was calmed into a lull when I first started with the blog. At first I only shared with people who were super close to me, who weren't going to judge me. But as I've shared more, and more widely, and become more and more vulnerable, it's become more scary. People have said things with well intentions that still sting, and people have said things with judging intentions (not many thankfully!). And it's scary to know that I've just signed myself up for anyone and everyone to judge me, my self care, my treatment of my depression, because apparently we do that with mental health, more so than we do with physical health. It's really weird how we do that. I mean I suppose we judge people who refuse to see a doctor, for whatever the reason, but with mental health, we really judge people on "how hard they're trying". I mean, for crying out loud, I do see a psychiatrist and a therapist (pretty damn regularly), and I exercise and blog and seek support from those around me, and sure, maybe I don't practice mindfulness as often as I should, but I'm TRYING.

I don't know why I feel the need to start off so defensively.

I suppose it's in preparation to say, I'm not entirely sure that this new medication IS working as amazingly well as I initially thought. It's not a miracle drug. And I suppose I never really thought it would be. But I think it did kick in, right around the end of my last period, while we were in Bermuda, and everything felt really great for awhile. And it was this nice long stretch of wonderfulness. And even though I was talking about how I don't want to take that as an expectation of the future, I must have still done that.

This weekend has been super busy for us, in comparison to a lot of recent weekends, and although it's all good things, it's taken a toll on my mood. The anxiety and depression crept into my day yesterday, despite a really great day Friday, starting with a beautiful bike ride with a friend,

a birthday party for a nephew, and quality hanging out with Nasser time after his work trip this week.

(Sorry had to share those pictures). (ARGH, I am not supposed to say sorry. So with the habit I'm trying to form as suggested by Nasser, I will say instead, I love you blog, for allowing me to get distracted with sharing the good stuff, in the middle of sharing the bad stuff. Because that's how I roll).

Yesterday was tough. At many different points. It was also good at many different points. Nasser and I got through a tough discussion about the way we were interacting with eachother and we talked about me trying to cut politics out of my life a little bit since it works me up a bit much. We also had RG's choir concert. Did I tell you he's in a choir this year?? Yeah, I love it. Anyway, I wasn't about to back out of his first ever concert that he was super nervous about, because of some effing depression, so I rallied. But maybe my eyes were a little red and puffy. And I didn't talk much to anyone else. And we really didn't do much afterward with people but it was ok. RG was in a bad mood for awhile about the long day, and dinner plans, and his itchy pants, and he was probably exhausted. Of course, at bed time, he couldn't stop talking with me about the concert, and singing bits of songs, and he seemed to love the choir again.

But then after the kids went to bed, the depression crept in again. I can't even remember what triggered it initially, but it was worsened when we were watching one of our favorite comedians (one we saw live together as one of Nasser's and my first dates back in the day) make several jokes in a row about how psychiatrists aren't real doctors. Oh man that hurt. It was like a blow to the stomach, but I guess more a blow to the brain. Your disease isn't valid. It's all in your head. Just snap out of it. That's the stigma I get faced with in our culture all. the. freaking. time. I'm sure I notice it more because those words scream out at me more than they do other people. I was terrified to watch any other shows or comedians or whatever for fear that there would be more mental illness trivialization.

Today is a bit busy as well with another nephew's birthday party this afternoon (my sister's birthday was yesterday, the nephews' birthdays are this week, a day apart from eachother, and my dad's birthday is next week - October is a busy month for us!!), and I am trying. This morning isn't super easy because Nasser is taking a few hours to play video games with friends who don't live here, online. I've felt better about giving him this time more regularly, since playing with other people is better for him than playing alone, plus it gives him social time with these friends. Normally it's fine, but today the game it a bit more violent with the zombies, and the killing, and the gore, and we're not letting the kids watch. They've gotten some of their own video game time in, hence the ability for me to blog. But I needed it. Already the depression had crept in this morning with me yelling at Nasser for sleeping in, ALL THE TIME, which he really doesn't do. Then he held me while we practiced some mindfulness/breath concentration together to try and prevent me from crying. I still cried, but maybe it wasn't as bad as it would have been had we not practiced.

We decided some verbiage around mindfulness practice. It is a practice, just like yoga. One that, I believe, allows for no existence of failure. If you practice, you will likely get better at it, and you're doing it. You can't be bad at it, there is only the possibility of not practicing it. If you find yourself with wondering thoughts, you simply try again. If you are in a balance yoga pose, and your raised leg falls to the floor, you simply take a deep breath, and try again.

I suppose that's exactly life. You fall down those holes. Maybe you get stuck sometimes, having trouble finding the way out, but we all stop and help eachother along the way. Thank goodness for that.

all I really want is some comfort, a way to get my hands untied

Tuesday, 09/06/16, 9:31am

I don't really want to blog right now. I'm not in the mood for it, but I feel the need to somehow.

The main reason I need to blog, is I found a NAMI blog post, shared on facebook, that really resonated with me. The author writes about "smiling depression", which
 
involves appearing happy to others and smiling through the pain, keeping the inner turmoil hidden. It’s a major depressive disorder with atypical symptoms, and as a result, many don’t know they’re depressed or don’t seek help. People with smiling depression are often partnered or married, employed and are quite accomplished and educated. Their public, professional and social lives are not struggling. Their façade is put together and accomplished. 

But behind the mask and behind closed doors, their minds are filled with thoughts of worthlessness, inadequacy and despair. They’ve usually struggled with depression and/or debilitating anxiety for years and have had some experience with therapy or medication. Many don’t disclose their depression due to fear of discrimination from loved ones or employers. “Oftentimes, I am the only person in this individual’s immediate circle who is aware of how he or she is feeling on the inside,” said Dina Goldstein Silverman, Ph.D., a licensed psychologist and assistant professor of psychiatry."

The entire blog post is worth the read, but this is important because Silverman says "there's a troubling connection between smiling depression and suicide."

I wouldn't really say that I suffer from "smiling depression", anymore, because I've become so open about my depression with others, but maybe I still do to some extent. In person, I will talk about my depression more often than I used to, but oftentimes I will hide it with others, if I'm feeling those feelings and I'm forced into a social situation. This can happen when we travel with others, for ski vacations, camping, family trips, visiting friends or family. If I'm constantly around other people for a weekend for example, I will typically have at least one depressive breakdown, maybe a half hour to a couple hour event usually taking place while hiding with Nasser in the privacy of our bedroom, and then "recover" enough to go be social and happy with the others. I won't usually discuss what happened, even though others may know I've been crying by looking into my eyes. Really I bottle those feelings up for the moment. And it forces me into some resemblance of "recovery", only I don't think it really makes me any better in the long run.

I've been backing out on social engagements more lately, and I think it comes across as "doing badly" or I have "worsened depression". But I don't think that's what it is. Since being more open with my depression in the blog, and as well as on facebook recently, I feel more authentic. And honestly, I'm less interested in being social right after a depressive breakdown because I don't know how yet to be truly authentic (and emotionally safe) with everyone I know when I'm in that state. How can I know that really? We shame "bad feelings" or "moods" so much, that we instinctively hide it when we're around others. Or at least I do. And I'm not interested as much in pretending to be "better" when it's just a façade and a temporary recovery. I do it, still, plenty often, but I'm learning to be more authentic with those I trust. I will talk about my depression and share about my most recent depressive breakdown at a party or family get-together, because I'm trying to be authentic.

It's been hard for me to know how to respond lately when people ask "how are you doing?". When it's someone I don't know, like at the grocery store, I still say "fine, how are you?" or something along those lines. But when it's someone I know, and I assume now that they know I have depression and they may or may not read my blog, I want to be more authentic. And no, actually I'm not really fine. I haven't been "fine" in a long, long time. Like truly fine, like consistently fine. Maybe it's only been since Adam's death, or maybe it's been since my depression really manifested 8.5ish years ago.

And we continue to work on it, as we've done since I first started treatment. I've been on several different medications and am now working on a new one, I've been doing therapy consistently for a long time, I've read (some) books and many articles on ways to help depression, I've blogged, I've discussed it at length with friends and family, I've cut out alcohol to very rare occasions, I've been working on affirmations, I practice mindfulness and I recognize the important of exercise and eating right on my overall health. I have put and continue to put so much effect into "not being depressed".

And I still. get. depressed.

I think that will always be the case, but all I can do is to continue doing the things I do. I continue to try to be better, to limit the depression as much as possible, and to cut myself slack when it hits or when I'm going through tough things like changing medications.

And it's ok. I will always continue working on the things that are shown to help, I will continue trying new things (even if I'm slow to start them, because there are still emotional hurdles to overcome with these), and I will continue to seek the support of others and try not to feel guilty over it.

We're going to end this post with some affirmations now.

I am strong. I am loving. I am capable. I am compassionate. I am brave. I am loved. I am nurturing. I am supported.

I am absolutely NOT a failure.

I dare greatly, at least sometimes.

And I continue.

it's my life, it's now or never. I ain't gonna live forever, I just want to live while I'm alive

Friday, 09/02/16, 3:05pm

I started reading a book per Nasser's recommendation, a good sci-fi fiction that does not break down all the aspects of my character and tell me how to be a better person. I need a little break from the self-help books for a bit. They're good, but they can be overwhelming for me.

I consider myself to be a reader but I've gone through several major reading droughts in my life. Or maybe I just go through reading spurts once in awhile and I'm just a fairweather reader. I have a pile of unfinished books next to my bed, and honestly I haven't really read in months. I've wanted to, to some extent, but haven't been interested lately. I'm sure that's likely a side effect of my worsened depression... (at this point I'm going to stop myself from the negative self talk that often follows here, and instead I'm going to say)... so I really need to just lower my expectations a little about what I'm "good at" right now in life.

Anyway, this book is kinda an end of world scenario- the moon splits into 7 pieces and several scientists across the globe calculate that all the pieces will separate within a year and a half and come raining down on Earth. There is a mad rush to make plans for who goes into space in search of other worlds, people start to grieve over the fact that almost everyone on Earth will die within 2 years. I'm not very far, but I think I'm close to that point of "this book has sucked me in". This author, Neal Stephenson, has written several books with strong female protagonists, and so far this book is looking to have a few.

I was thinking about reading and how different the experience is from watching a movie or even a tv show. Obviously, they're different, but I think there's this aspect of reading that creates an empathy in the reader for the characters. At least that's what you get out of really good quality literature.

Unfortunately I did already watch the movie first, but I want to read The Martian soon. Nasser read it, read a couple snippets to me, and I got to watch as he reacted to different parts of the book, so now I've got something to look forward to... AFTER the book I'm currently in. I really don't need another unfinished book to add to my list.

See below for the actual books sitting next to the bed; note, this does not count the other 3 that I've been reading digitally. Seriously, what is up with me??

(FYI, that is NOT 50 Shades of Grey on the bottom, just an unfortunately similar book title. Besides, it is a far superior book about a Lithuanian family getting imprisoned during World War II - don't quote me on all that, I'm not very far into it).

I read a wide variety of books, but I love it. I need this post today to praise reading because I'm also hoping it will get me back into it.

I'm sure reading is good for the depression too, anyway, so here goes trying, yet another thing.

PS- I talked recently about some intrusive thoughts that were going on in my weaning of my old antidepressant and now starting a new one. Found out this week that it is not abnormal with depression (I was terrified that I was additional dipping into psychotic symptoms there). My psychiatrist said that the higher doses of meds really help with that symptom, so we upped the new one, already. But that is not a failure. I accept that I have and will likely always have a decent amount of medication in order to function closer to my normal. It's always in addition to the other things I do in my treatment- therapy, exercise, mindfulness, blogging, using my support people, and now reading.