Detours

Posted on June 11, 2010 by Margaret Tidwell

In the few days that have passed since I have seen the counselor, I have been wallowing in self pity. I have been more than a little disappointed about the fact that my depression recovery is not going as well as it had been. On an intellectual level, I always knew that there was a chance that could happen, but on an emotional level I was not as prepared as I thought I would be.

I probably would have kept feeling sorry for myself, except for some wise words I received from a couple of people. The words of wisdom I received has allowed me to see what is going on with my depression recovery in a very different light.

This morning as I was doing my daily blog reading, I ran across the perfect quote on Mental Health Humor:

“A mental illness relapse is nothing more then a period of time that just didn’t go right. It’s nothing more to worry about, nothing more then a detour on the road to recovery. All we need to do… is get back on our road and nothing more.” – By Chato B. Stewart

Mr. Stewart’s quote is an awesome reminder to me that this detour in my recovery road does not have to be a big deal. In fact, I would be better served if I would just reset my focus, and get back to being proactive in my recovery.

My mom unexpectedly came into town for the weekend and she and I had a chance to talk this morning. She made me aware of something that has really helped me feel so much better about what is going on. She pointed out that once I realized that things were not quite right in my recovery, I took the appropriate action, letting my counselor and my support system know that I needed some extra help. She also pointed out, that now I know that I will do what needs to be done to get things going in the proper direction. Something that I would not have known if it were not for what is going on now.

I have decided that instead of looking at my little recovery detour as a bad thing, I will look at it for what it really is. Just a normal part of the recovery process, no big deal and a great lesson for me to see that I really do know what to do when things like this happen and I will do them.

The complete blog post that goes with Chato B. Stewart’s quote can be found here Mental Health Humor

Emotional Stuffing

Posted on June 10, 2010 by Margaret Tidwell

Warning: This is emotional spewing. It is not pretty and it is not nice. However it is honest and an accurate representation of how I am feeling at this moment.

It is also part of the home work that my counselor gave me to see if we can get my downward spiral turned around without a medication increase. In addition, I am using it to fulfill a writing assignment from Writing Workshop where I am to write about something “with all of the richest, imaginative sensory description I can muster”.

Once again I have been reminded that stuffing my emotions away, like a turkey being stuffed at Thanksgiving, is not healthy. This time stuffing things away created an open invitation for depression to walk right in and make itself at home in my favorite easy chair. Once the depression had gotten itself comfortable and had taken a leading role in my life, its favorite pass time became rubbing salt into my almost healed emotional wounds.

I am as mad as a hornet and sort of sad. I thought stuffing my emotions away and pretending that everything was okay would be enough to keep my eye on the prize. Instead it has been like being on the downhill slope of a roller coaster ride. Managing my emotions has turned out to be the hardest part of my depression recovery. Sometimes it feels like I am trying to herd cats.

The extreme anger I currently have, feels like I am being eaten alive by a colony of fire ants, probably because I have kept stuffing it away. What makes it worse is that the person I am so angry with is my own son. This is one of those times when you say you love your child but absolutely hate their behavior. Over the last two years, he has been so disrespectful to his family, that sometimes it is as if I have no idea who he is. It is almost like his brain was invaded by an alien, who instead of wanting to take over the world, has instead decided that his main mission is to destroy relationships.

Most of the time, the only reason he has contact with his family anymore is when he wants something. He thinks he is being as sly as a fox when he beats around the bush and tries to ask us for something, and the sad thing is he believes he has pulled the wool over our eyes and do not recognize what he is doing. When people have tried to keep him up-to-date when I have been sick and in the hospital, he has on more than one occasion acted as if or said that he did not care.

I am so angry pissed off about how he lies constantly to his family and his wife. Around Christmas, he and his wife decided to change their wedding date from late spring/early summer to right then and there. He told his wife and her family that his family had no desire to meet any of them, so his wife and her family agreed to the marriage right then, instead of waiting until the time we all had planned to go to the wedding date they told us about. Why in the world he would say that? I am not sure but I have a few guesses. There are many things he has said and done that I believe he does not want his wife and in-laws to know about, and I believe he lives in fear that if we were all to get together, we would spill the beans.

He does not speak to people respectfully, including his own wife. I recently found out about a weekend trip they took, during which he spoke to her as if she were garbage, because he was not getting his own way. In one incident around Christmas, when I was in the hospital, he got mad at me because I told my mother about their marriage plans, which he had posted on Facebook. What he texted me was pure bile. It was an obscenity laced message, telling me off about saying anything about their marriage plans, despite the fact that his posting it on Facebook made it public knowledge. In that message he also said that his family did not want him to be happy, because we were not super excited about his marriage, only because we were excluded from it. He thinks the answer to that is to have another wedding so that everyone can come, I will be there for it, but you cannot un-ring a bell that has already been rung.

I am so beyond hurt by the fact that he keeps changing his adopted name to his biological father’s name on any given day. The biological father that left before he was born, and gave me NO money to get ready for the birth until his commanding officer was contacted. The same biological father never once paid for a plane ticket to see him, other people did. Or sent money when my son needed surgery on his ears to preserve his hearing. The man who told him I left the marriage because I could not handle the military life, and my son believes it. It does not matter that I did not divorce him until he was released from the military BEFORE his contract was up, or that up until the time he left California, I told him he was more than welcome to come stay with me and his son.

I am heart broken that my grandmother writes my son every day, and as far as I know he has only responded once, and that was because I mentioned it to his wife. Of all the people in the family, his disrespect of her, his great grandmother, is probably the worst. She is his defender, and will not let anyone say one negative thing about him, even when it is true, and he refuses to acknowledge that every day she sits down and hand writes him a letter.

As much as I want to be happy about becoming a grandmother, I cannot find that happy place about it in me. He and his wife chose to try and have a baby, even though their marriage is in serious trouble already. Their own personal lives are a mess, she is just now entering treatment for depression and my son among other things lies like a rug, and also treats her and others badly. They pay money for tattoos, rather than save that money for a new vehicle, the one they have now is unreliable. I get the impression that they think that a baby will make their marriage so much better.

I suppose I could continue with the spewing but I think I am all spewed out for now, although there are still a multitude of things I could say. Life has a tendency to come back and bite us in the butt when we continue to make poor decisions, it is unfortunate that his choices are going to affect more than just him.

This Is Not A Set Back

Posted on June 9, 2010 by Margaret Tidwell

My counseling appointment did not go quite like I had planned. I am now back to once a week sessions, with some discussion about the possibility of raising the dosage of my depression medications.

A few weeks ago, I knew something was not quite right. I even blogged about it a little bit. I was feeling down, for a variety of reasons, and I knew that I needed to do something to turn it around. I thought that I had done what I could to get things going in the right direction. Including an old favorite of pretending like everything was just fine. It appears that I was not successful. Who would have thought that stuffing your emotions and faking it would not work?

My issue is that I am feeling an extreme emotional response to something, that emotional response is in the form of extreme anger, sadness and disappointment. Since I have been really doing well with my Depression Recovery, that would be since September, I have had a few times where I have had to face extreme emotional responses to something, but I always managed to get through those. This time however, for whatever reason, I got bogged down by my emotions and have not been able to pull out of it properly.

One of the first things I said to the counselor today, was that my memory problems were back to being as bad as when I first started seeing her, back when my depression was in full swing. I also told her that all I wanted to do was to sleep. I was fighting it, not going back to bed, but I fall asleep sitting up on the couch, in the middle of working on my blog, or even when I am talking to someone. We discussed if I was having distracted thoughts, and while I am not having the racing thoughts that I did last year, my ability to concentrate is not as god as it should be.

My counselor brought up the topic of what has been on my mind of late and let me know that she thought that I was on a downward spiral towards a depressive episode. She gave me some homework to do. We are going to see if spending extra time with her and the home work will be enough to get things going in the right direction again. If not, there is always the option of increasing my doses of Effexor and Welbutrin. I am on a very low does of Effexor, which is supposed to work on two chemicals in the brain. My psychiatric doctor told me one time that sometimes, when Effexor is given in low doses it only ends up working on one of those brain chemicals, and it needs to be increased to work better.

I do want to point some positive things though.

Even though I may be in a depressive episode, it is not even close to making me feel as sick as I did last year.
There have been no suicidal thoughts.
Even though I was actively stuffing my emotions when my counselor was on her honeymoon, when I did see her, I immediately began discussing it all with her.
I shared some of what was going on with a family member.

I do not consider this a set back, it is merely something else I need to learn so I can continue to get better.

Yeah, things did not go as I had planned during my counseling session, but as my family member pointed out, things rarely go like we plan. In reality, that is probably a good thing.

They Threatened To Arrest Me – Suicide

Posted on May 28, 2010 by Margaret Tidwell

When I ended Bumps In the Recovery Road I was in the emergency room of the local hospital, waiting with a front desk lady, while the psychiatrist from the Crisis Team was working with the emergency room doctor to have me involuntarily committed. I was very angry and really wanted to leave, but I knew they would stop me.

After about fifteen minutes, the psychiatrist exited the treatment area and left the emergency room, without saying a word to me. Almost immediately after he leaves, I am called back to the treatment area. At first, things seem to be going along in a fairly normal manner. I am still angry, still feeling like I have been tricked, but I thought that since I had come to the hospital willingly, that it would not be too bad. I. WAS. WRONG.

A very young nurse enters my room, she hands me a hospital gown, and orders me to take off all of my clothing. She then informs me that I will be going to the psychiatric hospital, dressed in nothing more than that hospital gown. I promptly let her know that I was not removing my undergarments. To which she responded with “We will see what the charge nurse says about that”.

After the young nurse leaves, the emergency room doctor arrives and asks me a few questions about the state of my mind, and if I have a suicide plan. After I answer all his questions, he leaves. About twenty minutes after my encounter with the doctor, a guard shows up. I was not surprised or bothered about the guard, I already knew it was standard procedure for anyone that the medical staff think is suicidal.

When the charge nurse finally enters my room, I can tell from the look on her face that things are about to get bad. I had no idea how bad, until she lets me know that she is going to strip search me. I go from angry to absolutely terrified very quickly. I am rather modest and the thought of being strip searched was more than my already messed up brain could handle. I instantly burst into tears. The nurse told me it had to be done to be sure I was not hiding any drugs or weapons. I do not use drugs, and I am not a violent person, except for that time when I was coming out of a coma, so I just could not understand why I needed to be stripped searched. I felt humiliated, embarrassed, and as if I was being treated like a criminal, when I all I did was call for help.

When I told the charge nurse that I refused to be strip searched, she let me know that if I did not allow her to do it, she would have the guard outside my room arrest me! It seems the guards they use are off duty sheriff deputies, so they have the power to arrest people. I have no way of knowing if I really could have been arrested for refusing the strip search. What I do know, is that I was calm, although terrified, and I had not even raised my voice when I told her no. I also know that I felt bullied, and like I was being treated as if I had committed a crime.

When I did not agree to the strip search as quickly as the charge nurse wanted me to, she began to walk out the door, telling me she was going to have the guard come in and take me to jail. At that point, it was a given that I would agree. She checked every place that someone could hide anything. When she finished, I felt completely violated. Even now, months after this, I still feel just as angry, humiliated, and violated as when it first took place.

After the strip search, when it was time for me to put my hospital gown back on, I manged to talk the charge nurse into allowing me to wear my undergarments under my hospital gown. I assumed once I got dressed I would immediately be taken to the psychiatric facility. That did not happen. Because of the ten extra beta blockers I took, the psychiatric hospital told the emergency room doctor that I had to have my heart monitored for at least twenty-four hours before they would accept me.

By this time, I had become so scared about going to the psychiatric hospital, that I did not mind having to stay in the medical hospital for an extra few days. My thought was, if I could be violated the way I had been at this hospital, there was no telling what horrible things waited for me at the psychiatric hospital.

Once a room in the Intensive Care Unit became available, I was transferred (along with my guard) upstairs. After I was settled into my room, I learned that there were a few rules that I had to adhere to. I was not allowed to leave my room. Anything that my husband brought me would have to be examined before I could have it. Finally (the worst rule in my opinion), I could not go to the bathroom without being supervised.

That night I learned that because I was involuntarily committed for a suicide attempt, I would not be given any of my daily medications. That also meant my Restless Leg Syndrome (RLS) medicine. Since I was hooked up to monitors, I could not get up and walk around and my legs became extremely uncomfortable. My RlS medicine is the only thing that makes my RLS symptoms tolerable. It took some doing, but the doctor that was on duty that night did allow me to take my RLS medicine. He took the discontinue order away and said I should not have any problems the next night.

With the medication failure already allowing my emotions to be out of control, not being allowed to have any anti-anxiety medication, and feeling terrified, violated, and angry, I was a horrible person to be around. I was short tempered, at times, with certain guards. I barely tolerated most of the nurses and I was rude to the doctors.

I quit eating. There was no way I was going to have a bowel movement while someone had to watch me in the bathroom. When I was not sleeping, I was crying. The terror I felt about what it was going to be like at the psychiatric hospital was and still is the most scared I have ever been.

I do not know if the treatment I received in the emergency department is the norm for anyone involuntarily committed. However, I believe that it was highly inappropriate for the charge nurse to threaten to have me arrested. There could have been many other ways she could have gotten me to cooperate that did not involve threats, especially since I was not being violent or argumentative.

I would like to hear if anyone had similar experiences when they were involuntarily committed for psychiatric care. I would also be interested to know if my experiences, especially with the arrest threat, are exactly how hospital staff are supposed to treat someone who has suicidal thoughts or if there was something not quite right about how I was treated.

An Ending And A Beginning

Posted on May 17, 2010 by Margaret Tidwell

May 17th, 2009 will be a date that I will always remember. It is the day I attempted to end my own life. My suicide attempt had been preceded by several years of severe depression and anxiety. I had experienced months and months of obsessive suicidal thoughts, and I had absolutely no hope. There is no one thing that caused me to attempt to kill myself, yet at the same time there was one thing that was the final straw.

My depression and anxiety had gotten to a point where I was barely functioning. Day in and day out, my thoughts revolved around the same things, how sad I was, that I was worthless, and my own death. I cried everyday, and I wanted to be alone all the time. I was miserable, and I wanted that miserable feeling to end.

Life got worse. My husband lost his job, and we lost our health insurance. I would no longer be able to afford the many medications I was already taking for diabetes, asthma, and restless leg syndrome. I went to a local, free clinic to find out if they could help me. The clinic was able to give me most of my medications, but they did not have the one I needed for restless leg syndrome. I knew what was going to be in store for me. Months and months of barely any sleep, horrible feelings in my legs, and never being able to be comfortable. As far as I was concerned, this was intolerable, and was the final thing that pushed me to the point of no return.

I did not want to commit suicide with my husband or daughter home. It seemed wrong to me. I did not have to wait long until the right opportunity presented itself. On that day, when everything was in place, I implemented the suicide plan that I had created months before.

The first thing I did was give myself a massive dose of insulin. My reason for doing this was quite simple. When you go into insulin shock, there is a period of time when you feel drunk, eventually you sort of go to sleep or pass out. I figured that if I was in that state or even unconscious then I would not feel the effects of the other medications I was going to take.

After the insulin injection, I started taking my other medications, just a few at a time. I did not want to take all of them at once, in one big dose. I was afraid I would vomit them all up if I did. So with a menu of about ten different medications in front of me, I would take three or four from a bottle and then move on to the next one. I kept repeating this process until my brain was too fuzzy to remember what I was doing. At that point, I just started taking whatever I could, not paying attention to how much I was swallowing down

Whenever I have heard suicide talked about or watched something about it on television, the only thing that was brought up was the person’s thoughts and behavior before the suicide attempt and the results of it. No one seems to want to discuss the middle part, the part when you are dying. I was mentally unprepared for that part. It was painful, confusing and messy.

Despite my best efforts, I began to feel nauseous. My body attempted to vomit a few times, but nothing came up. I could barely walk, and think. I lost control of my bowels. I was agitated. I could not sit down, but I could not walk. It was nothing like I had imagined it would be. Instead of peacefully going to sleep, I was feeling everything that my various overdoses were doing to my body.

Some tiny part of me must have wanted to live, because it was that tiny part that propelled me to call for help. My memory starts getting fuzzy at this point, because I was going in and out of consciousness. From what I was told, when the paramedics arrived at my house, they found me face down on the porch. I have a vague memory of waking up in the ambulance once or twice, and when I arrived at the emergency room. Other than that, I have no memory of anything until the next day.

When I woke up, I felt as if I had cobwebs in my head. I was exhausted and wanted to go back to sleep. It was then that I realized that I was tethered to the bed and there was a guard in my room. My nurse removed the tethers and I went back to sleep and slept for most of the day. It was not until late that afternoon and over the next few days that I found out what had happened while I had been unconscious.

Shortly after the paramedics had gotten me to the hospital, I went into a coma. It was caused by the huge overdose of insulin. During that time, the nurses and doctors worked to bring my blood sugar up and to bring me out of the coma. They also did numerous tests to try and determine what all I had taken. Things were touch and go for a while and I was almost successful in my suicide attempt.

They were able to bring me out of my coma. Unfortunately, I was not in my right mind and became violent. That is why I had been tethered to the bed. I was give several injections of anti-psychotics in hopes that I would calm down. Eventually, they took effect.

The on call psychiatrist came to see me during my time in the intensive care unit. He barely listened to me, nor did he do a proper psychiatric work up. He diagnosed me with Situational Depression and told me that I was to go to a local psychiatric clinic for counseling. Even I knew that what I had was not Situational Depression.

The hospital made an appointment for me at the psychiatric clinic. An intake appointment is what it was called. It was to take place the day after I got out of the hospital. My plan was to not go. Fortunately, my family had other plans and they made me go to the appointment.

I did not want to be there, even though I really needed to be. As the psychologist asked me question after question, it became more and more evident how badly I needed help. It was during this initial visit that the counselor gave me the diagnosis of Clinical Depression. When I left her office that day, the psychologist did not expect me to be back.

I did go back. That tiny part of me that wanted to live, knew that I needed to be there. This was the beginning of my recovery process.

The Impact Of Physical Illness On Mental Health – Mental Health Awareness

Posted on May 7, 2010 by Margaret Tidwell

I believe that my physical illnesses contributed to the poor state of mind I had, as well as developing Clinical Depression, and an Anxiety Disorder. I went from being a relatively healthy person to someone who physically feels rotten much of the time. Also, several of the medications I am on to treat the diabetes and the asthma have been shown to directly affect your brain and lead to depression, especially, if you are already prone to depression or anxiety. My counselor calls it co-morbidity.

I believe I have a better attitude and outlook about my physical illnesses. When I was in the hospital for my asthma in February, I was not down in the dumps like I would have been before. Being there on my fortieth birthday did not bother me. I even kept blogging while I was there. I would have the nebulizer in my mouth, for a breathing treatment, and I would be blogging away at the same time. I also think my depression medications help counter how my other medications might affect my brain chemistry.

The Impact of Physical Illness on Mental Health

There is one particular aspect of mental health that is still not widely discussed. It is the impact that physical illness has on a person’s mental health. Mental health workers easily recognize this fact, everyday they see patients with a multitude of physical and mental issues. Unfortunately, few outside the mental health field see the correlation.

One way to put it in perspective is to think about how you feel when you have a cold. Obviously, you have a stuffy nose, runny eyes, a fever, and you just feel physically awful. How about the mental aspect of it? Many people get cranky, and a bit irritable. Very often it goes deeper than that. Many people feel “blue” or “down in the dumps” when they have a cold. I know I get really whiny when I have a cold. The good thing is we know that a cold is not going to last very long, most of the time, and soon we will be back to feeling like ourselves.

Now think about this, what if the cold turned into a long term illness? How do you think that would affect your mental health? Most people, no matter how mild or serious the illness is, experience a wide range of emotions. Emotions like anger, sadness, and worry. We feel like we have no control and that our bodies have let us down. We feel lonely, and even though there probably have been millions of other people with the same illness, we feel as if no one really understands what we are going through.

From a mental health perspective, when it comes to a chronic or long-term illness, anxiety and depression are the biggest concerns. Many times these mental health issues are over-looked and left untreated. Which can be very dangerous from both a mental health perspective, it can lead to suicide, and from a physical health perspective, it can delay healing.

Doctors are becoming more aware of how physical illnesses can affect mental health and attempt to be on the look out for the signs and symptoms of anxiety and depression. However, their best source of information about how you are doing mentally, is from you. Your doctor will not be aware that you are having any mental health issues if you are not open and honest with them about what is going on in your life and how you are feeling.

Why are depression and anxiety more likely to happen when you have a physical illness?

People become depressed and anxious when they are stressed for any reason. Being ill is stressful.
Some drug treatments, such as steroids, affect the way the brain works and can directly cause anxiety and depression.
Some physical illness, such as an under-active thyroid, affect the way the brain works and can directly cause anxiety and depression.

You are more likely to experience severe anxiety and depression when you are physically ill if:

You have been anxious or depressed before.
You do not have family or friends you can talk to about your illness.
You are female (women report more anxiety and depression than men).
You have other problems or stresses going on in your life at the same time.
You are in a lot of pain.
Your illness is life threatening.
Your illness has left you incapable of taking care of yourself.

Clinical Depression – Mental Health Awareness

Posted on May 6, 2010 by Margaret Tidwell

I was diagnosed last year with Clinical Depression. My diagnosis came after several years of suffering, and a suicide attempt. When I compare how I feel now to how I felt this time last year, I am amazed at the difference. Even my soul feels refreshed.

I will always have Clinical Depression, however, my goal is to never allow myself to get that sick with it again. Everyday, I look for any signs that my medications might not be working. I have family members whose job is to watch and see if I exhibit any signs of a set back. I have plans in place in case my medications ever stop working, and I need some extra help for a time. I believe all of these are productive steps in my plan to stay as healthy as I can.

Clinical Depression

Depression affects more people than any other mental illness, more than about 19 million Americans each year.

Clinical Depression is more than just being down in the dumps, or feeling blue. It is a real illness, and it can be treated. Unfortunately, most people who have depression do not seek help.

Many people are intimidated by the stigma that surrounds depression or other mental health issues, and as a result do not want to let anyone know they need help. Others believe depression is just a normal part of life’s ups and downs, and do not realize that it is a real illness, causing them to delay seeking help, or to never seek it at all. It is important for people to know that depression is a real illness, and there are many effective treatments for it.

Some signs of depression are:

A persistent feeling of sadness, anxiety, or an empty feeling
Difficulty falling asleep, staying asleep, or sleeping too much
Reduced appetite and weight loss or increased appetite and weight gain
Loss of interest and pleasure in once enjoyable activities
Restlessness, or irritability
Difficulty in concentrating, difficulty in remembering things, or difficulty making decisions
Fatigue or loss of energy
Feeling guilty, hopeless or worthless
Thoughts of suicide or death

If you have been experiencing five or more of these symptoms for two weeks or longer, there is a possibility that you may have depression. Seek professional help immediately.

If you are a family member is in crisis right now call 1-800-273-TALK or dial 911

Hiding Under Blankets

Posted on April 1, 2010 by Margaret Tidwell

Hiding under blankets used to be my favorite pass time when I was depressed or feeling anxious. I could get my whole body under them, toes and all. Not a tiny bit of me would be exposed. The only thing bothersome about it was that since I was completely covered up, the air would get slightly stale. I had a solution for that. I would just slip my c-pap on and I could stay under the covers for hours and hours.

For the first few months that I was seeing my counselor, she was fully aware that I was still using my hiding technique as a way to cope. When she finally let me know that she thought that I could manage my depression and anxiety without hiding under blankets I was scared. I honestly did not think I had progressed enough to manage my anxiety and depression without my hiding technique. Then she just had to go and make things worse. She told me that I would have to get up in the mornings, take my shower, and get dressed so I would not be as tempted to go back to bed and hide under blankets. In my head I knew I would end up a quivering ball on the floor, crying for my blankets.

The reality of what happened was completely different. For the first few weeks, when I would feel anxious or I was having a bad mental health day, I would really , I mean really, really want to hide under blankets. I would resist the urge though. After a few weeks of resisting the call of hiding, I began to realize that hiding under blankets was not my first choice when I was experiencing anxiety or feeling extra depressed anymore. I had replaced that hiding habit with other things to do as a way to keep myself occupied until I could work through whatever it was that was causing me extra depression or anxiety.

I still get anxious and I still have depression. Those things are still there. However, I have coping skills that I did not have before. I may have lost my blankets, but I have also lost that powerless, paralyzed feeling that I used to get when the anxiety would strike. In my book that is a good trade off.

Have you ever been overwhelmed with anxiety?

If so how did/do you manage it?

If you manage your anxiety well, what tips do you have for those of us who do not?

My inspiration for writing this post came from Jodeen-Kitterman-Leck at A Road Newly Traveled

I am looking forward to your answers, Neighbors!

Friday Frustrations – Doing Pretty Good

Posted on March 26, 2010 by Margaret Tidwell

Welcome to Friday Frustrations, a weekly blog carnival dedicated to getting things off your chests whether big or small. If you would like to participate, grab the button and enter your Friday Frustrations link on Conversations with Moms Friday Frustrations Blog Hop.. You can write about several frustrations or just one. It’s up to you.

I am mostly frustration free this week. Last week and the first part of this week were bad, as far as my depression goes. I think I got slammed by to much at one. If I had a frustration, it would be the fact that it is Spring and that means crazy weather here in Georgia. And lots of pollen. Which means I get to look out the window and stare while everyone else is enjoying being outside. The pollen triggers asthma attacks for me. I am going to invest in a Wii fit so that I can get some fun exercise done in the house.

Enjoy your Friday, Neighbors!

Not Exactly What I Wanted To Hear

Posted on March 10, 2010 by Margaret Tidwell

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Last week’s counseling session went pretty well. I was able to discuss something that had been on my mind for a couple of weeks. At the end of the session, my counselor said something that I thought was really good. She told me that if I were to walk into her office now, she would diagnose me with mild depression. She did also say we could not change my diagnosis at this point since I first started seeing her when my depression was so severe and I still need the extra care that someone with clinical depression needs. However, I did take what she said about my depression at this stage as a positive thing. I can see and feel that I am better than I was, but it sure is nice to have my counselor validate what I am feeling.

Yesterday it was time for me to see my psychiatrist for my regular medication check. I had question for him about my medications. When I was in the hospital for my asthma, my medication doses were not changed but instead of taking 150 m of effexor in the morning, the hospital had me take it 75 m at a time, once in the morning and once at night. With my welbutrin, they had me take 150 m in the morning rather than 75 m, morning and night. I asked him if changing how I took them for that length of time would make any difference in how they worked. He asked me if I had any symptoms come up during that time and they had not. So he said in his opinion changing them the way the hospital did was not detrimental to me at all.

I also told him I was back to almost no sleep at night and it was wearing me out. I asked if it was time for me to start taking something to help me sleep.

The answer he gave me was not exactly what I wanted to hear. The psychiatrist said that he could detect a great deal of anxiety in my voice and he thought that I was experiencing some extra anxiety that was making it difficult for me to sleep. He went on to say that he thought part of my anxiety was coming from me stressing about my medication. That I had gotten myself worried about things that were actually nothing to worry about. I know last week my mother said something about me getting “wound up” over making sure I had plenty of mirapex for my restless leg syndrome. He actually wrote in my chart that he felt I was moderately anxious. He said he wanted me to have my counselor teach me some more coping skills for anxiety and he felt that would be more helpful than prescribing anymore medication.

I guess he wants to keep an eye on me while I work through this anxiety episode, because instead of having to wait three months to see him again, like I had been doing, he wants to see me in four weeks.

I saw my counselor today, so I did not have to wait long before I could get her to teach me some more anxiety coping skills. The counselor did remind me that she had told me a number of months ago that I would experience some break through symptoms at some point. The time for that to happen seems to be now.

The counselor told me she thought I was handling it very good compared to how I would have last year. She also told me to not be hard on myself since I did not realize what was going on until the psychiatrist told me, and that if it had been given a few more days I would start to realize what was going on because the symptoms would be much more pronounced.

I am using my support system and using the people in my life who are the most helpful and trusting them to let me know when they think I am not doing as well as I could be.

The counselor also reminded me that learning about my emotions is probably the hardest part of my recovery process to date.

I will definitely have to manage my anxiety a bit better. I think the relaxation techniques my counselor will be helpful. I just have to remember to use them when I feel that anxious feeling.

Have a great evening Neighbors!