No Way Out

Do you have a family memory that stands out?  That one memory that represents all the good things about your family?  I do.  I have a memory of an incident where my family was at its best.  Each person had their own role, and did what needed to be done.  The result of all of that combined effort was that my family saved three lives.

Although we are not on the coast, during hurricane season we often experience the hurricane weather.  It consists of very strong winds and extremely heavy rain.  Many trees fall and there is a great deal of flooding when these weather fronts move through.   It is the type of weather, where the best thing to do is to stay home.

It was during one of these hurricane weather weather fronts that we received a phone call that changed all our plans for the evening.  Some friends of ours had called and asked us if we could bring their shop vacuum, that we had borrowed, back to them.  They needed it because their basement was flooding from all the rain that had already fallen. I do not think any of us were thinking properly, because without hesitation we agreed.

As we were getting ready to go, my son, who liked to be prepared for everything, had packed a bag with glow sticks and a strong but light weight rope.  I hate to admit it, but we gave him a hard time about him packing the bag.  However, my husband and I decided to let him take the bag, because we thought he had packed it to give himself comfort while we were out in the bad weather.

We had two ways to get to our friend’s house, a dirt road and a paved road.  Although the paved road is a longer route to their house, my husband decided that would be the best way for us to go.  We had not gone very far down the paved road when we encountered a problem.  There were live electrical wires on the ground.  My husband turned around and we got on the dirt road. The dirt road really did not seem all that bad.  There were a few places where some small creeks had gone across the road, because of all the rain, however, they were easy to cross.  When we had almost reached the end of the dirt road, our progress was suddenly stopped.  What was in front of us, on the road, was a huge river of swift flowing water. It was not supposed to be there.

Suddenly, we saw headlights in the middle of this river, and a nineteen year old young man fighting the current heading toward us.  He told us his girlfriend and her young son were trapped in his truck that had been carried away by the water’s current and now his truck was resting against a tree.  He had waded out to try and find help, but he was afraid that since the water was still rising that very soon his loved ones would be carried away.

Without discussing it, my whole family decided that we needed to do what we could to help this family.  There was no cell reception in this area, and the houses were few and far between, and we all felt that something needed to be done quickly.  This scenario was a nightmare for my husband.  Not only could he not swim, he is terrified  of water.  Which meant, my son and I were going to have to be the ones to go in the water to get the people out of the truck and my husband was going to have to drive to the closest house for help.

I have to wonder, if my husband was afraid that as he left us there that he would not see us again. I was grateful that my daughter was in the truck with my husband, I knew that she would be able to provide him with enough distraction to keep him from worrying about us too much. My fear was not for myself, but for my son. I kept picturing in my head, him being swept away and getting caught on the barbed wire fence that enclosed the cow pasture near us. However, there was no way I could have gotten those people out of that truck without his help.  It was a time that represented a great deal of sacrifice for all of us, but we all felt that this was the right thing to do.

As we headed toward the river, my husband sped away in his truck to get help.  The glow sticks my son had packed came in handy.  He pulled out a couple and that is what we used to light our way through the water. Thank goodness he was prepared.  In just the short time that it took us to make the decision to help this family, the water had risen a great deal and its current had increased.  We locked arms as we entered the water, to make it more difficult someone to be swept off of their feet.  The water was very cold and so was the rain that fell on our heads.  It seemed like it took us a long time to reach the truck.  The young man was exhausted, this was his second trip through the current, but my son and I kept encouraging him to keep going.  When we finally reached the truck we saw a very hysterical young woman and a very quiet little boy.

The young lady did not want to get out of the truck and get into the water.  Every time I asked her to, she told me no, and she was becoming more hysterical as each second passed.  Finally, I had to raise my voice and ordered her out of the truck.  There was simply no more time to be nice.  It worked and she got out of the truck.  I think her son knew that the adults in his life were wrecks and would only let my son get him out of the truck.  Because the water was still rising and was quickly becoming very deep, the little boy could not walk in it, which meant my son would have to carry him to safety.  We all locked arms again.

Heading back to safety was much harder than it had been to get to the truck.  The water was still rising, and the rain was still pounding us.  We had more people to contend with.  I kept telling everyone to take small steps as we moved forward.  Small steps.  Small steps to help us keep our balance.  It seemed to take us so long to get to safety, but we finally did.  We had to keep moving though.  Our place of safety would not stay that way for very long.  As we got to the top of a small hill, a place that would keep us safe from the rising water, we looked back.  As we looked back, we saw the headlights of the young man’s truck go out, and watched as it came lose from the tree and the water carry it away.

We were all shivering from being so cold.  I do not think I had ever been that cold.  Maybe we were also shivering because of all the adrenalin we had expended getting out of the water. Almost as soon as we caught our breath, my husband came flying up in his truck, with a woman following him in her own car.  We wrapped the little boy up in warm jackets and stuck him in the truck with my daughter.  She was great at continuing to help him stay calm.  We got the young man and his girlfriend to sit in the woman’s car, so they could warm up.  Within five minutes, a fire truck and ambulance showed up.  They took over care of the young family and we quietly left.

I love this memory not because of the people we saved, but because of how as a family we all worked together to accomplish something wonderful.  My husband was in charge of getting help, my young daughter was in charge of keeping him calm.  My son and I did what needed to be done to get the family out of their truck.  No person had a role that was more important than another.  We all were vital keys in accomplishing the goal.

Do you have a family memory that stands out in your mind?  What is it? Why is it so significant to you?  Share it here or on your own blog.  I would love to see what memories people treasure.

Counseling Appointment

I had an appointment with my counselor today.  I think it went really well.  I talked with her about leaving my safety zone and going four hours away to my parents house.  Having to sleep in the bat house one night and all the places I went while I was there.  I did admit to her that I had some anxiety on the way back home, because my brain started the whole stupid what if game.  What if the house burned down while we were gone?  What if the electricity is out when we get home?  She sort of laughed and said “You had no problem sleeping in a house with bats for one night but you got anxious on the way home”  I knew what she was trying to point out.  Most people would have been a little anxious to sleep in the bat house, and been okay on the drive home, and my anxieties were the exact opposite.  Kind of pointing out how unfounded most of my worries are.

I spoke with her about my frustration with regards to some people not listening to me when I am specific about something.  My counselor suggested that I just start writing them down.  Since most of what is not listened to is small things (but they build up frustration in me) she said this would be a simple thing to do.  Especially, now that I carry a little notebook with me everywhere.  Once I have what it is I want or need written down, then I hand it to the person who is supposed to be listening to me, but really is not.  I think I am going to give it a try.

I also told the counselor how I let my son have it via text yesterday.  I had bought some onesies for the baby.  Since I do not know the sex yet, I bought one for a boy, that says “If you think I am handsome, then you should see my daddy”, and one for a girl that says “If you think I am pretty, then you should see my mommy”.  My daughter in law immediately sent a very gracious thank you, my own son…..nothing.  In fact I had texted him about some other things and still no answer.  Finally yesterday I had texted him and asked him if he had fallen of the earth since I had not heard from him.  The response I got was that he had been “too busy”.  I promptly let him know that he could have taken two minutes to text me, and that if he did not want me involved in the baby’s life, let me know now.  That is probably the first time in a very long time that I did not let him get away with disrespectful behavior towards me.  I told the counselor that it was about time I started setting some boundaries with my son.

The counselor said she was very impressed with the things I have been doing in the last week and a half and that she felt like the trip to Augusta was a huge step forward in my recovery.

Oh, one last thing.  The state gave the psychiatric clinic enough money to start a few new group sessions.  They are going to start a depression group out there in August.  Which means it will only be a 10 to 15 minute drive from my house.  I am seriously considering trying the group setting.  It might help me improve some of my real life social skills.

Thankful Five

What are you thankful for? Have you ever sat down and made a list of the things that you are thankful for?

Once a week I sit down and make a list of five things I am thankful for. Not only does this help me look at the little, everyday things of life and be thankful for them, it also helps me keep  my focus on the positive things of life.

  • I am thankful that whatever stomach bug attacked the whole family last week, is completely gone.
  • I am thankful for the flip mom gave me, it has been providing me with so much entertainment.
  • I am thankful for having a voice, and that I am learning how to use it,
  • I am thankful for the new Crystal Light flavor I tried, raspberry lemonade.  Good Stuff
  • I am thankful for my blog.

Intimate Moments

In a previous post I talked about the sexual problems that can sometimes happen when we are talking psychiatric medications.  I also shared how these type of side effects have affected me personally.

Even with the welbutrin that the doctor prescribed in hopes of counter acting my sexual dysfunction issues due to my medications, sexual intercourse is not something I enjoy nearly as much as I used to.  However, I know for me and my husband sex allows us to connect on a more emotional level.  It also allows us to get reacquainted with each other when we have not had much time to spend with each other. So where has this set of circumstances left us?

In the beginning it left us bitter and confused.  I was bitter because I viewed it as yet another thing taken away by depression, my husband was confused because he thought I did not care about him as much anymore.  It began to put a strain on our marriage.  I know it seems like silly thing to strain a marriage, but you have to understand once I started feeling better after years of not being interested in anything, both of us had hoped to reconnect on every level.  After three years of isolating myself, we had lost a sense of closeness.  We wanted it back.

We realized we both had to be proactive in achieving a sense of intimacy with each other, and we both had to do it in ways that we were comfortable with.  I am not a touchy feely kind of person, my husband is.  I put aside some of my uncomfortable feelings and began to hold hands with him more, hug him more, and began rubbing his back sometimes.  Not only did he enjoy the time I set aside to give him my attention, I found that I enjoyed it too.  For his part, my husband rubs my head.  Sounds silly, but I love it!  We do not go to bed at the same time, because I have sleeping problems, but sometimes I will go lay down with him so we can have some cuddle time.  On the weekends, he cooks a lot and takes pride and serving me his newly created recipes.

So our sense of intimacy has grown.  We are doing things to connect with each other that we never would have before I lost my desire to have sex.  In a way, we are closer than we were before.  Still, there are times when I wished I could get interested in sexual intercourse more than every three months or so.  I am sure my husband does as well.  I even wish I got more pleasure out of it than I do.

My husband and I have discussed whether or not this is a side effect that we could live with.  We are both in agreement that it is.  For me, the Effexor saved my life.  I was still having suicidal thoughts and actions and was not really open to what my counselor was trying to show me until the right medication mix was found for me.  The Effexor and my anxiety medication made it so my thoughts could settle down enough for me to begin to get some benefit out of my surgery.  My husband would rather have me in my right mind and by his side even if it means we do not have the sex life we used to have, than have me start trying to find another medication mix and to risk me ending up trying to kill myself again.

I found a few suggestions that are supposed to increase intimacy in relationships:

  • hug
  • hold hands
  • share your thoughts and emotions with each other
  • cuddle with each other on the couch, or in bed
  • kiss each other good night
  • massage – sensual massage

When it comes to sexual intercourse and especially with me having difficulty achieving an orgasm one of the best pieces of advice was offered to me by @DrJoyDavidson.  What she told me to do was to be creative and experiment.  Her website Joy Spot is a great resource of information for achieving an exciting sex life, and offers great suggestions for enhancing things when your sex life needs a little extra help.

Dear Son

Dear Son,

I do not think I have told you enough how proud I am of you for volunteering to serve your country.  However, your treatment of me is something I am not proud of.

You still continue to treat me with disdain, and disrespect.  I am doing my best to support you and your decisions and you refuse to acknowledge my efforts.  Your wife, someone I have never met, treats me with more respect than you do.  Returns phone calls, and texts when you fail to do so.  Now you are having your own baby.  My grandchild.

You are bringing another family member into the world, and the behavior you will model in front of your own child, will be one that will not teach him/her to respect their own parents.  As you continue to disrespect me, you child will grow up thinking that this is okay behavior toward parents, and you run the risk of having your own child treat you and your wife, in much of the same manner that you currently treat me.

A simple thank you for the things I bought the baby the other day, would have meant the world to me.  Replying to my last text message would have been wonderful.  I want nothing more than to show you that I love you and support you, yet you still keep those lines of communication closed.  It is shame, that the only way I can speak to you is on my blog.

I love you!

Your Mother

Not Tonight Dear

It is a fairly well known fact that depression and anxiety can reduce our desire to have sex.  However, were you aware that many of the medications we take for our depression and anxiety can also cause sexual dysfunction?  If you were not, you are not alone.  Most people are unaware of these particular side effects.  Doctors do not like to talk about them out of fear that their patients might refuse to take their medications.  Patients do not like to talk about them, because the topic is often embarrassing to them.

With both patients and doctors being reluctant to talk about the sexual side effects, they are under reported, making the information about them  inaccurate.  In the past many experts thought that the sexual side effects of these medications were mild and did not last very long.  They based this idea on what had been reported to them by patients and their doctors.  Now some experts are beginning to think that the sexual side effects could be long term and in some cases will still exist even after the patient has discontinued the anti-depressant.

Some sexual side effects are:

  • A lack of desire – for both men and women
  • An inability to have an orgasm
  • An inability to ejaculate
  • An inability to achieve erection
  • Little to no sensitivity in the genital area

I am part of the percentage of people who have to deal with the sexual side effects of their anti-depressants.  What little desire for sex I had before I began taking anti-depressants, has completely disappeared. I also have almost no sensitivity and orgasms are a thing of the past.

When I first began experiencing these side effects, I honestly did not know what to do.  Discussing my sex life with anyone was something that I was emotionally unprepared for.  I was so reluctant to discuss what was going on, I did not even tell my husband.  I just faked my way through enjoying intercourse.  When I finally got enough courage, I told my counselor what was going on and she encouraged me to tell the doctor.  By the time I saw the doctor to let him know what was going on, I had done some of my own research in hopes of getting some ideas on how to combat what was going on.  He and I both decided to add welbutrin into my treatment program, and see if that helped.  It has….to some degree. Eventually I quit faking and told my husband.

My point in sharing all of this with you is that, if you are experiencing these types of side effects, you are not alone.  Please take the time to discuss the issue with your psychiatric doctor.  In my case my counselor knew how uncomfortable I was discussing this subject with my doctor and she offered to tell him for me.  This might be an option for you if you are too uncomfortable discussing it with your doctor.

Again, if you are experiencing sexual side effects with your depression medication, please talk about it with your doctor.  There is nothing to be ashamed of.

The Anonymous Blogger

I found a thought provoking post written by Jen Reimer on Practice Of Madness today.  It was about people who choose to blog anonymously, and why they do, as well as why she chose to no longer be an anonymous blogger.  In her post she proposes that those people who are still blogging anonymously should consider revealing themselves to their fellow bloggers.  Using her own words the following quote sums up her opinion about anonymous blogging.

“I say screw anonymity”

To be quite frank, I have a huge problem with that statement, and the opinion it represents.  I think it disrespects those bloggers who choose to blog anonymously.  Jen Reimer justifies her opinion based on the  thought that the only thing a blogger has to fear when blogging under their real name is the government and cyber cops.  In my opinion, for many bloggers this simply is not true.

Most of my blogging friends, are in my online mental health community.  Some choose to blog anonymously, while others, like me, choose to blog under their own name.  Neither way is right or wrong.  It is nothing more than our personal choices.

I choose to blog under my real name, while discussing potentially delicate subject matter because I probably have less risk involved than many of my friends in the mental health community.  I do not have a job, and will probably never be able to work a full time job again.  My husband is not ashamed of me or my mental illness and understands the importance that I place on trying to be a mental health advocate.  We do not sit in fear that someone one day might google our names and it will cause the loss of my husband’s job.

However, there are many people who are not in that position.  Either they are the one with the mental health issues or someone in their family is and because of the stigma that surrounds people with a mental health issue they are not comfortable completely exposing themselves or their family to that kind of transparency. They have very real fears of losing jobs, being denied housing, and losing relationships with friends and family.  Not to mention, they may not be ready for the whole world to know who they really are. Blogging offers them some sort of peace, and anonymous blogging allows them to achieve that peace without being uncomfortable.

I want to believe that Jen Reimer did not mean to be disrespectful to the people who choose to blog anonymously.  Maybe she did not understand that some bloggers do have very valid reasons for keeping their real identities private.

What is your opinion about anonymous blogging?  Do you blog with your real name or do you choose to blog anonymously? If you blog anonymously, can you share with us why you have made that choice?

What Does The Title Of Your Blog Mean?

Over the past few days I have been wondering if everyone who visits my blog understands the meaning behind the title, Sugar Filled Emotions. People have told me that it is a cool domain name, a creative name, however they did not understand the true meaning behind the title until I had explained it to them.  This afternoon, I traveled over to a blog that I had never visited before, and discovered that the author had a great explanation for the meaning of the title of her blog, Practice of Madness.  I thought that was an excellent idea, and decided to write my own explanation for my blog title.

The original intention I had when I started my blog, was to use it as a journal of sorts, creating a place for me to express my out of control emotions.  I thought if I could express my emotions here, then I would not let them fester and risk taking them out on other people.  At that time, because the right medication mix had not been found for me, and I had not been in therapy for very long, I was an emotional, out of control mess.  And that is where the word Emotions came from.

In addition to having depression, an anxiety disorder, and asthma, I also have Type II Diabetes.  If you know anything about Diabetics, you know that they are full of too much sugar.  That is the idea behind the Sugar Filled part in my title.  When I put all the parts together, it came out has Sugar Filled Emotions,

I do not recall it taking me very long to come up with the name for the site.  It was as if it was already sitting in my head waiting to come out. I still really like the title of my blog and have absolutely no plans to change it.

What about you?  What does the title of your blog mean?

My Therapy

Do you have something in your life that you consider therapeutic? Something you do that brings you peace? I think that it is important for me to have something that brings me peace.  A type of therapy that is separate from what I do when I go to my counselor’s office.  My personal therapy, the thing that brings me peace, is writing in my journal/blog.

When I can fill a page up with my thoughts and emotions, I feel as if I am releasing whatever negativity I might have  harboring inside of me.  Putting those things down, for the world to see, also allows me to see them from a different perspective.  Many times, I have been able to work through a a difficult issue just by writing it about it.  Other times, the comments I receive about something I have written have given me suggestions and ideas on how to better manage a difficult situation, or problem.

My depression recovery has not been without its ups and downs and detours.  One of the constants during all these months of changing and learning has been my source of peace, my blog.  My blog is sort of like a friend who does not talk much, but really knows how to listen. I do not think that I would have made it this far in my recovery if I did not have this place of peace.

Where do you find your peace?  What do you do that is therapeutic?

Another great blog post about using a blog for therapy can be found at Anxious Kaley

My Story – The Beginning

This is my first video blog.  I know it is too long, at least the vlogging experts say anything more than five minutes is too long.  However, I am not going to shorten it.  It is My Story, with My Voice, and this first video blog will stand as it is.  It is emotionally raw, much more so than I had any idea it would be.  In the future, I will try and make my video blogs shorter, or maybe not.  It depends on what feedback I get, and what parts of My Story come out at the time.