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.