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!

breathe, breathe in the air, don't be afraid to care

Tuesday, 10/18/16, 10:04am

fuck. fuck you, depression. you unwelcome, unwanted, piece of garbage shit that takes a fucking dump whenever it goddamn pleases.

(excuse my vulgarity).

I don't know why today of all days it had to dump depression and anxiety into my life in such a crying ugly mess of a way. I guess I had my effing list of morning errands in my head instead of on paper. I was going to leave the house by 8 freaking 30 this morning. I was also going to wake up at that first alarm at 5:13am and go for a run. I guess that was my first failure of the day, cause I seem to be beating myself up about failure, failure, failure today.

Oh, jeez, this is a crappy ass day. (not in the literal sense, thank you for that).

I've sat down and started making a list of all the to-dos in my head, per Nasser's suggestion. I suppose it will help the anxiety in the long run, but for now the list-making is causing further anxiety attacks this morning. I finished the urgent lists but the one for our big annual Halloween party (what things I want to do to prep the house, etc) is going to wait until I'm more calm.

Sigh.

I talked with Nasser on the phone a couple hours ago, and he talked me down some of the hysterics, but it's still coming and going. And I still haven't done the yoga he recommended. And I'm desperately trying to be a good mom to TK, who's home with me today. He's holding me to this promise of playing soccer outside on the greenbelt, which I WILL do shortly here.

I can do this, right? I can salvage some of the expectations for today, maybe, and if I don't, I am NOT a failure. I can do this. Breathe in. Breathe out. Big, long, deep breaths. I can do this.

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.

I feel the seasons change, the leaves, the snow and sun

Tuesday, 10/11/16, 9:45am, 12:10pm

ARGH. ARGH ARGH ARGH.

I stupidly hurt my finger. I rammed it into an edge on the towel rack when I went to dry my hands, and the fingernail tore, badly. It's split diagonally down the center, about a 1/3 of the way down. Oh it's ugly. The pain has gotten better, with advil and time, but I'm still frustrated.

I am so tempted to add a picture here, although it's covered with a band-aid now and I don't know that my readers would appreciate the gore. Hah.

Even though typing is probably not the best thing for the nail, I'm attempting it. Because I feel behind on the blog and I miss it.

This weekend... was... great. I ended up having a girls weekend in the mountains. These were women I've been friends with for a long time. All of us are moms, we all have kids of similar ages, some of the group met in birthing classes or around then, and two of us are sisters.

5 of the 6 of us carpooled up in, none other than, a minivan.

Half the group joined some of my family (my brother-in-law plus kids, my brother plus kid, 2 of my cousins) on a 14er on Saturday. (For those outside of Colorado, a 14er is a mountain that is 14,000ft or higher).

It was fun, tiring, humbling, and tough. I did not summit (I was having a really hard time with the elevation and shortness of breath which made me feel panicked, and I was starting to have trouble keeping a sure footing on the loose rocks), although we think I made it above 14,000ft elevation, probably within about 100ft of the summit, so I call it a win. :) We had some amazing views, and got really close to some mountain goats who had no fear around us.

me at my highest elevation of the day, admitting defeat 

Someday I will attempt it again, maybe after I get into better overall shape and better altitude shape. Need to be in more of a regular habit of going up to altitude before I attempt this one again.

Before the 14er group of the ladies weekend passed out of exhaustion Saturday night, we made it through a delicious dinner out, some apple pie sangria back at the condo,

we rocked out to some dance music with our awesome speaker setup,

and we played a fun game all together.

I feel like I keep getting breaks from the kids, breaks from regular life, lately, and yet I just seem to keep needing them. I guess that's life in some respects, or maybe life for me right now. While I continue to figure out living with depression, and anxiety. Maybe someday I'll have it more figured out, but right now, I feel like I have a long way to go.

Although I made it through the weekend feeling wonderful, the depression and anxiety hit yesterday when I was faced with the reality of Nasser leaving for a work trip for several days. I'm working on it, struggling but trying to allow myself the break now that I hurt my finger. Normal activity seems to be re-injuring it a little and I'm nervous to drive later tonight for choir. Still don't think I'll end up at urgent care for this, but we'll see.

I am done typing for today though. :-(

we’re broken in two from the day we are born, but you’ll not hear any more of this said

Tuesday, 10/04/16, 8:10am, 12:05pm, 1:25pm

I know I've gone off my soap box several times throughout the course of this blog about the stigma around mental illness and the effects that it has on people with it- here, here, and here for example. But until stigma around mental illness is gone from this world (something I don't expect to happen in my lifetime let alone my kids'), I will continue to talk about it, to bring it up and shine light to it.

I've posted this before, but I think it's worth re-visiting. When I googled "stigma", here's what came up:

stig·ma

ˈstiɡmə/

noun

1. 1.

   a mark of disgrace associated with a particular circumstance, quality, or person.

   "the stigma of mental disorder"

   synonyms:

   shame, disgrace, dishonor, ignominy, opprobrium, humiliation, (bad) reputation "the stigma of bankruptcy"

Note, the first example is "the stigma of mental disorder". That's because it is SO prevalent. You don't believe me? Read here and here. Why do I think that stigma is still present? Because people still treat mental illness different from physical illness. They assign a shame around mental illness, making the illness his/her fault.

I've stated some of the statistics before, but what does stigma look like?

Stigma is the wave of embarrassment when you talk about crazy Uncle Louie who suffers from biopolar disorder or cousin Steve's crazy ex wife who suffers from schizophrenia. Stigma is shifting your eyes away from the homeless person you see on the corner, mumbling to themselves. Self-stigma is the refusal to seek treatment when you suffer from a mental illness because you think you should be "strong enough" without it. Stigma is when Donald Trump can suggest that military service members who commit suicide do so because they "can't handle it".

Stigma is this internet meme (there's a part of me that doesn't even want to post it, to give it any notoriety).




Oh that meme makes me so angry (and trust me I know the benefits of the outdoors and I recognize that antidepressants are far from perfect), now I've gotta post the correction meme to this.



The thing is antidepressants can mean that difference between suicidal and not for many people, for some they may take the edge off, for others they might not help much and the side effects may make it not worth it. And then of course for some, they can cause suicidal thoughts, so I agree, when that happens, they're shit. But it isn't fair to discount all the good they do for so many people. And it isn't weak to take medication, it doesn't mean that someone "can't handle it"; it simply means that person has chosen to medically treat their brain. Just like you would with any other organ.

I hate the stigma, I hate my own self-stigma. It makes my depression that much more difficult to battle. I'm fighting that stigma, continually, and I will as long as I'm on this earth. I fight the stigma everytime I write openly about my struggles, I fight the stigma when I request or accept help from others, I fight the stigma when I raise my kids to believe a mental illness is an illness not a character flaw.

I hear it’s music ringin’, it sounds an echo in my soul, how can I keep from singin’?

Sunday, 10/02/16, 10:01am

We've taken this weekend as pretty lazy so far. I left the house for a grocery and library dropoff run this morning, but mostly we've been hibernating. Nasser especially needed the break after a stressful shortish week back at work, with late night calls pretty much every day. I think he still has some work to finish up this weekend for some things that are needed by tomorrow.

I haven't had all that much stress in the last few days and yet I'm the one who hasn't been doing as well. I'm mostly better from that depressive breakdown that hit hard Thursday and Friday, but still kinda off. Still edgy, still a bit anxious and easily triggered.

So I'm blogging now, as a preventative? I got in some good road riding on Wednesday this week, but other than that I haven't really been exercising as a preventative. I should be doing much more. I know think that getting into shape would help my depression, and yet dieting or restricting my eating, makes me feel low. I guess for a little bit. When I got myself on the Atkins diet earlier this summer, and didn't cheat, I felt good. But it took a good week or two to feel more normal on the diet. And apparently I can't get myself to go through that time period again in order to successfully diet and lose that extra weight.

And not that it really matters how much I weigh, or whether or not I have this extra tummy weight and separated abs from pregnancies, or whether or not I still fit in my pre-pregnancy clothes, or whether or not I "can get away with" wearing a bikini, because f that. I want to feel comfortable in my body and that's what I care about. I need to work on the confidence in what I've got thing and finding clothes that make me feel good in the body I have, not for the body I wish I had. And working throughout it to find a feel good and healthy weight on my body, one that maybe doesn't make my knees hurt as much wouldn't be bad to find, but I don't have to be super skinny or lose my athletic build or require a sugar free diet.

I like exercising and I would still recommend it to any and all. But I don't typically exercise for the purpose of looking great in a swimsuit or whatever. I do it because it's therapeutic to my mental state. I do it because it makes me healthier. I do it because I enjoy it. I do it because I love running races and triathlon races and bike charity events and open water swims and skiing and hiking and 14ers and big athletic accomplishments. I do it because it makes me feel good. I do it for me. I do it to enjoy all those athletic things with friends and family and my kids. I do it to help teach my kids by example, that leading a healthy lifestyle can be so beneficial and enjoyable.

I didn't realize I would get on my soap box about exercise in this post today. But that often happens with the blog. I come to it, sometimes with a few ideas, but I just start writing. I let my thoughts become real and readable to others. I don't know why. But since starting the blog, I feel the need to keep writing. It's not there every day, but almost. There are so many more thoughts that flash through my head throughout each day that never make it to the blog. So many insights that I think to myself, I need to write a blog post about this topic or whatever anecdote. And I forget the next time I sit down with my Chromebook. There's just always so much more we learn each and every day.

And so I keep writing.

moving me down the highway, rolling me down the highway, moving ahead so life won't pass me by

Friday, 09/30/16, 1:39pm, 3:25pm

Wow. Yesterday and today have been... rough. And weirdly so. They've been really hard days, depression wise, and yet I've been hiding it as well as possible and getting help from a few close people when absolutely needed.

Like my mom took RG to his choir practice last night. And a friend and my sister witnessed a breakdown on our walk this morning. Oh and poor Nasser has had to text with me and talk me down on phone calls while he's at work and like yesterday, supposed to be on this super important manager stuff phone call, with all the other managers. The all day one, that lasted 3 freaking hours longer than it was supposed to. Yikes that really made for a tough afternoon for me. The one person I desperately wanted with me to help me and talk with me, the only acceptable person to me when I'm in that state (that's how super freaking dependent I get with poor Nasser because he's the single person in the entire world who knows me as well as he does and knows my depression better than anyone else), absolutely could not back out of this meeting. It would have been devastating to several people's reviews and I could not in any state, actually ask him to do that. Because the guilt and shame it would put on my shoulders, to know that my depression had all these consequences on other people because I'm so stupidly needy, would be devastating to me. It would have made me spiral that much further down. So I had to accept help. From people other than Nasser. I had to gulp and do it and get over whatever ego it is that makes me not want to accept help. I guess most people have that to some extent. It's really hard to say, I'm too sick to take my kid to choir, can you help me? It's harder when that "sickness" doesn't appear obvious to others, other than the puffy, red eyes and occasional sniffles or tears.

You know why I beat myself up over feeling depressed so much? It's that f'ing stigma. That overwhelming scream from "them" that say get over it, suck it up, put yourself out there, just do it. The expectation that you can always find it within yourself to get out of bed and get outside and talk to people and do all the things you're supposed to be able to do. But sometimes it takes time. Time for the right meds to kick in. Time for the right med to be developed or approved. Time for a new day. Time for our schedules to align when everyone is feeling good and healthy. Time to heal. Time for a good day. Time for some sleeping. Time for some growing and finding oneself. Time.

I don't choose to waste time on my depression or my anxiety. Sometimes Nasser panics when he sees me spiraling downward and all he wants to helplessly do is make it stop, and he says "don't do this". It can be further triggering, for me, to hear these works because they feel blaming in a moment when I also feel helpless to stop the depression from becoming full blown. But he doesn't have the words, ever really, to stop me when I'm going up and over that final triggering hump, and probably anything he says could push me over that edge. He has most recently tried switching to "I love you". This was a brainchild while we were in Bermuda. When I was starting down that path, Nasser caught me and held me with "I love you". He literally had his arms around me, cradling me, on the bed in the Airbnb, telling me "I love you". And it helped. It got me through. I feel like such a child since he discovered this technique with TK's meltdowns. But... it works.

Nasser also got me started on forming a new habit. Anyone who knows me, knows that I apologize. A lot. Like all the freaking time. I'm sure it's super annoying, but then I start apologizing for apologizing so much, and it can turn ugly. So. Instead, when I get the urge to apologize to Nasser, he has asked me to say "I love you". It's super endearing and I love the new habit, although I'm still not very good at it. Typically I still say "I'm sorry" and I follow it up with "I love you". But I've also started remembering to make that mental switch and start with the "I love you" occasionally.

Today started off really great, with a nice breakfast out with Nasser after the bus and before my walk with friends. It switched quickly though when a lot of the feelings from yesterday came back in the short time at home after breakfast. I was hopelessly avoiding crying at intervals, but I still went for the walk and I'm really glad I did. It was the right, accepting, and supportive group who listened to my venting and crying about my f'ing depression, and then we moved onto other topics partway through and it was good and fine. I'm going on a girls weekend with some of my awesome moms friends, some of the ones I've known for a long time and have been the stay-at-home moms I started with. (several of that crowd couldn't make it unfortunately) We're heading up to the mountains a week from today, and my sister and I will likely be getting a 14er (climbing/hiking a 14,000ft mountain) in with some family. We talked about it and I'm feeling really excited about getting that girls time.

I'm sure a lot of what I'm feeling is, I'm back from vacation and back to reality, and I like vacation better. And there's some level of post-vacation blues, and sure some of that is normal. But then when I spiral down all the way, maybe because the post-vacation blues makes me feel guilty about those feelings of "I like vacation better", I spiral down and down and down all the way to "I hate my life" and "I am a failure". And those feelings don't belong in my head.

I've been getting through the last day and a half of depression with looking at the next vacation possibilities, something I think we'll do entirely on our own. We thought about visiting friends, but now I'm thinking we need some little family unit time. A "stay-cation" somewhere else. Maybe a Mexican all-inclusive resort. Maybe a stay in the Colorado mountains, just us 4. I looked at flights all over and we're talking about getting serious in getting the kids' passports. It's tentative still, but I've been looking at ideas online, vrbos, groupons, and tons of pricing out how ridiculous certain things are. Because what if we could find an awesome deal to Thailand or Hawaii or Costa Rica? Our little family needs something, and it likely will be on a much smaller scale when we do the pricing, but right now we're looking and searching and reading and considering. And it's fun and it's getting me through these bad days.

I leaving it there today, as blogging even that much, while therapeutic, is also exhausting today. And I want to focus on the travel idea anyway.