Monthly Archives: October 2010

Joining The Self-Care Challenge

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LIVING Self-Care

After seeing a post on Voice In Recovery, about LIVING the Self-Care Challenge, I decided to look into it a bit further. I liked what I saw. Basically, for 21 days,  Drs. Diane Sanford and Ann Dunnewold will be post short self-care strategies and tips. The idea is to spend only 15 minutes each day practicing self-care, using their suggestions. That is just enough time to get begin to make self care an everyday habit, without it becoming a chore.

The challenge started October 6th, and ends October 21st. Which means I am late starting it. However, the creators of the challenge have decided to continue posting tips and strategies even after the challenge ends. Since I just learned about the challenge and want to participate in it, I decided to start from Day 1 and share what I do and learn on the blog.

I am looking forward to learning new techniques that encourage good mental health, and sharing them with you!

The Pay Off

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With having to withdraw from Effexor, and trying to find a new anti-depressant, the last few weeks have been challenging. When the withdrawal process began, I was angry and physically felt awful. I was angry because I was having to stop taking a medication that had helped my mental health so much. Physically, I felt so bad because of what Effexor had been doing to my body and the effects of the withdrawal process.

There were times during that process when I did not think that what I was going through was worth it. I felt like I was unraveling mentally. The withdrawal process was worse than I had imagined it would be. I became difficult to be around, and did not want to be around anyone.

Slowly, I started to feel better. In fact, I felt better than I had in months. I did not feel like I had to struggle everyday to stay awake and move. I became more active, taking walks and spending more time outside. My blood pressure was become lower and so were my blood glucose readings.

The real pay off for all that I have gone through these last few weeks came on Thursday. I had an appointment with my medical doctor. The last time I spoke with him he was worried, very worried about my health. This time he was pleased with what he saw. Although my blood glucose readings are not within target range yet, they are considerable lower than they used to be. He took a reading while I was in his office and it was 188. My blood pressure was 140/90, last time I was there it was 186/129. I have even lost some weight. It made me feel happy to be able to go into the doctor’s office and hear good news, and not see a look of worry on everyone’s faces.

I feel good mentally and physically. All of the uncomfortableness of the last few weeks has been worth it. I even learned a few things about myself. I learned that even in a basically unmedicated state I am in much better mental health than I was last year. I learned that I am stronger than I gave myself credit for. I also learned to have a greater appreciation for all that I have gained over the last year and a half.

Out Of My Suffering Came…

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One of the things that comes to mind when I look back on my major depressive episode and my suicide attempt is that I was suffering. I was suffering mind, body and soul. I felt alone in my suffering. It appeared – to me – that there was no end to it, and that it was consuming me. I could not understand why it was happening to me. I wondered what I had done to deserve such horrible pain. The only constant in my life was never ending suffering.

Not one time could I see any benefit to what I was going through. Even months after the worst of the pain had gone away, I could not see anything positive about my suffering.  I was still angry that God had allowed it to happen. I could parrot all the wise sounding sayings about what can be gained from suffering, but I did not believe them. Those sayings made me sound as if I had moved past any residual pain and anger I may have been harboring. They made me sound as if I had found some sort of joy in the midst of my suffering. I could use them to lie, and not reveal what I really thought about my suffering.

Whatever it was about my thinking that allowed me to be a victim of my depression, was allowing me to be a victim of my suffering.  I wore it like a badge, and used it as a manipulation tool. I used my pain to inflict pain on others. I used it to excuse my bad behavior. I stayed focused on it and would not let it go. At the same time I hated all the pain that was being inflicted on me, I was holding onto it tightly. I had held onto that mantle of suffering for so long that I had no idea what I would be without it, and that scared me.

If I could no longer be a person who was suffering, who could I be? I did not believe that I had anything of substance to offer the world, except for my long standing suffering. Without it, I felt I would be an empty shell.

As I began implementing the tools my counselor was teaching me, my pain and anger began to seep away. I saw glimpses of who was hiding behind all that suffering. There was a real person there. I was seeing glimpses of the me I could be. It was then that I realized that I was more than just a person who was suffering. I was not an empty shell, I had value. The more I moved away from the suffering person I was, the more clarity I gained. I began to understand that I had been more afraid of becoming someone new and unfamiliar than I had been of losing the safety of my suffering. I could see that the person I was becoming was not the person I had been before the pain began. The intense pain I had lived through for so long had changed me, but not in a way I would have expected.

Rather than make me a harder, all that suffering had opened up a soft place in my heart that had never existed before. I was a kinder, more caring person than I ever recall being. I spent less time focusing on my own negatives and began focusing on the positives I saw in the people and world around me. I was not the angry person I had been for so long. I still did not understand why I had to go through so much pain, but that no longer mattered to me. It became more important to discover what I had gained during my time of darkness and the period of healing that followed it.

I used to be a bundle of contradictions. Part of me knew that I was a strong person. I have been through a few events in life that have proved that. However, another part of me believed that I was weak and a person who had no value. It seemed those two parts of me were in a constant battle, with the negative part of me coming out ahead most of the time. At this time in my life, those warring halves have come together. I know that I am strong, I know that I have worth, but that knowledge is tempered with just enough memories of the past to keep me humble.

In addition to becoming a kinder more caring person, I gained the ability to empathize and sympathize with other people. I learned that I was not the only person to have traveled in a long dark, pain filled tunnel. While I had made it to the light at the end of the tunnel, there were many more still stuck in the pain and darkness. With a kinder and more gentle spirit I realized I could encourage and lift up those who are still in the midst of their own suffering. I can jump up and down, and hold out my hand, showing them that there really is a light at the end of their tunnel.

I can truthfully say that out of my suffering came hope. A true and genuine soul, warming hope. It is one of the most precious things I have, because I know what it feels like to not have any hope. One of my strongest desires in life now, is to see other people come out of their places of suffering and watch as they begin to have hope of their own.

Important Words From Emily

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I have to apologize, due to my not paying attention, I missed what Emily sent me for yesterday’s post. To make up for not posting it yesterday, I will publish it at the end of the week.

Today, Emily of Surviving Limbo, shares one of her old posts with us. I am not going to say anything as an introduction for what she is sharing, I believe her post says it all.

Why Nobody Helps an Abused Child

Sad Little Princess

THE INJUSTICE OF IT ALL

When talking to my psychiatrist one day, he highlighted a notion that I’d been ignoring.  I’m not just depressed.  I am angry. I am angry at my mother for her abusive behaviors.  I am angry at my stepfather, grandmother, family members, and neighbors  for covering for her.  I am angry at the other adults in my life whose responsibility it was to look for signs of abuse and report them.  These people include my pastor, my teachers, my doctors, and my babysitters.  Most of all, I am angry at the loss of opportunity to be a different self.

What would my life be like if someone had intervened? Would I be suffering the way I am now?  Would I have the coping skills to live a much better life?  I have spent many hours contemplating, “WHY?” How could these people just ignore what was happening to me? While the answers do not satisfy my anger, perhaps they can help someone from making the same mistakes.

REASON #1  MISCONCEPTIONS RESULTED IN PEOPLE NOT RECOGNIZING THE ABUSE.

People often look for obvious signs of abuse. Violence leaves cuts and bruises; neglect may appear in dirty clothes, or an appearance of being underfed.  They also look for inappropriate behavior, low grades, and substance abuse.  These are certainly warning signs.

However, some abused kids go to the opposite extreme. They are meticulous in their work.  They get good grades.  They are well behaved and seek approval from teachers and other adult mentors.  They’re very anxious about doing something wrong.  This may give the overall impression that you’re dealing with a “good kid,” and there’s nothing to worry about.

That was me.  After I ran away from home, many of the adults who dealt with me as a child admitted they felt something was wrong. I was just too good, unnaturally good. If they’d been more perceptive, they would have noticed hyper-vigilance; I was always “on alert” and ready for something bad to happen.  They would have noticed that I flinched or startled easily.  They would have noticed that I severely overreacted to discipline.  The smallest word of disapproval would have me in tears and throwing up in the bathroom.

REASON #2  THEY WERE PART OF THE “BYSTANDER EFFECT.”

The bystander effect is a psychological phenomenon where an entire group of people witness a crime or emergency and do nothing to help. The term was coined in the 1960s when a young woman was stabbed to death in her apartment, and her neighbors heard her cries but did nothing to stop it.

The bystander effect occurs for many reasons.  People may fear they will be attacked or harmed in some way themselves if they act to intervene.  They expect someone else will do something.  They create reasons not to do anything such as, “It’s not right for me to interfere with someone else’s family.” The cynic in me says no one wants the inconvenience of filling out paperwork and talking to police.

One Halloween, my mother took me to a downtown event, a sort of street party where businesses were also giving away candy to kids.  Weeks ago, she had given me a ring to wear, a blue sapphire.  At some point, the ring slipped off my finger and was lost.  When we pulled up in the driveway, I realized it was missing, and when my mother found out, she went crazy.  She said the ring had sentimental value and started slapping me, clawing me, pulling at my hair, screaming at me, and calling me names, the usual.

When her fury started to escalate, I did what I often  had to do growing up.  I got out of the car and ran.  This time I thought I’d be smart and ran to our neighbor’s house, an elderly couple, and begged for sanctuary. They took me in, and at first, they showed the appropriate alarm, but as they were discussing whether or not  to call the police and what to do about the situation, my mother knocked on the door.

She was calm, playing the role of the exasperated mother who has a naughty little girl.  She could win an Oscar.  She told our neighbors that I was spoiled and wasn’t used to a good old-fashioned spanking.  They all laughed about it together and exchanged stories of being in trouble as a kid while my heart squeezed tighter and tighter in dread of what was coming. I was forced to go home with her, and I’ll leave the results to your imagination.

Those people KNEW.  I had just described to them in detail what had happened as I have here.  They knew I wasn’t an ordinary “kid in trouble,” yet they were more than willing to accept my mother’s explanation because they didn’t want to get involved.

REASON #3  KEEP IT IN THE FAMILY.  IT’S NOBODY’S BUSINESS BUT OURS.

Another psychological phenomenon that causes people to ignore abuse is the enabler.  The enabler is a person who cleans up the abusive parent’s mess and makes everything look normal.  They actively keep other people from finding out and intervening in the abusive behavior, so the abusive cycle continues unimpeded.  Enablers may also be victims of the abuser themselves, but they think what they are doing is “love” and protecting the family.

My grandmother was an enabler.  After one of my mother’s fits, she would try to calm me down with treats and soothing words.  She emphasized over and over that I shouldn’t tell anyone. Telling people would only embarrass the family.  Authorities  would come and break our family apart.  My mother would be hurt, and I would be responsible.   Sometimes she even went so far as to rewrite the script.  What I experienced didn’t really happen.  Instead she would paint a portrait of a much less scary and more understandable scenario.  As long as I kept quiet, everything would be okay.

My grandmother was determined to protect my mother even though she was in danger many times herself. One time, I had to wrestle with my mother to keep her from beating my grandmother with her own cane, yet when I overheard my uncle speak with my grandmother after that incident about “getting my mother some help,”  she refused outright.  My uncle didn’t push the issue, so he carries some blame in my eyes.

When I was 12, my mother married, and my stepfather also protected her. Instead of denying what happened, we would sympathize with each other in the aftermath, and  he convinced me that he WAS getting her help…next week.  Over and over.  He kept me from taking those final steps to protect myself much sooner.

IT’S ALL SO COMPLICATED

Yes, I’ll go ahead and say it.  I’m angry.  I’m pissed.  I’m FURIOUS!  All it would have taken was ONE PERSON to stand up for me!

However, it’s more complicated than my anger would like to admit.Human beings are complex and fallible. I loved my grandmother.  I can put myself in the shoes of some of the people who thought there might be something wrong but were afraid they’d make a mistake if they did something about it.  Maybe I’m partially to blame for not consistently trying to get help.  One of my former students privately told me that she was a victim of abuse.  I was horrified that I didn’t catch it while she was in high school.  She told me she was very good at covering it up.  I share in the guilt.  Also, it does only harm to hold onto all that anger.  I have to work at forgiving these people and myself too.

NOTES FROM THE AUTHOR

I’m grateful that blogging has brought me into contact with other survivors of abuse such as Just Another Person and his wife. It helps knowing your experiences aren’t freak incidences.  It helps knowing there are people who can empathize as well as sympathize with what I went through.

Pay attention to the kids in your life, not just what they say, but their body language and other behaviors.  Ask the hard questions if necessary.  You might be the one person who notices and takes action to rescue a child from an abusive situation.

Photo Attribution:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/pinksherbet/2181559194/

7 Link Post

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I did a post like this months ago.  I was inspired to do it by Thu Nguyen, of Blogging For dog INFO. She has some great blogging information and help on her site.

The basic concept of a 7 link post is that you create a post with seven links.  The first link is to your very first post, the second link is the post you enjoyed writing the most, the third link is to a post that had a great discussion, the fourth link is to someone else’s blog post that you wish you had written, the fifth link is to your most helpful post, the sixth link is to a post that has a title that you are proud of, the seventh link is to a post you wish more people had read.

I had so much fun the first time I did this, that I thought I would do it again.  If you decide to do you own 7 link post, let me know.  I would love to look at it.

1.  My first post: Depression and Anxiety as Seen Through Glasses In my first post I talk about my glass is half empty view point (which I no longer have). I compare my thinking at the time, to how I would like to view things at some point in my future.  I really like it, because after looking at it again, I realized how far I have come since I wrote it.

2.  The post I most enjoyed writing: Enjoying Retirement I enjoyed writing this post because I love the tongue and cheek way I thought of to write about how I used to excessively worry.  It took a serious subject and poked some fun at it.

3.  A post which had a great discussion: Are You The Victim Or The Victor This is a fairly recent post that a lot of people responded to.  One of my favorite things about it is that it was the first post that the Blog Gang did.

4. A post on someone else’s blog I wish I had written:  Why Don’t More National/International Companies Embrace November As Diabetes Blue? I recently read this post about the stigma associated with Diabetes.  I really recommend it as a good informative piece for anyone.

5.  My most helpful post: Is actually two posts Help With Psychiatric Medications – Part I and Help With Psychiatric Medications – Part II Both of these post contain information on how to obtain free and low cost prescription medications.

6.  A post whose title I am proud of: Too Cool For The Spa This post is about an outing with four generations of women in the family.  Obviously, we were all too cool for the spa!

7.  This is a post I wish more people had read:My Daughter Speaks Out I wish more people had read this because what my daughter had to say about what it has been like living with a mother with a mental illness and who tried to commit suicide is heart rendering and honest. It is an open look into how depression affects our family members.

Emily's Mental Health Resources

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This is Emily’s second day with us as the Mental Health Blogger of the Week.  If you have not check out her wonderful site Surviving Limbo, you really should.

I really got a lot out of what Emily shared with us on Monday.  The reasons for our diagnosises  may be different, however, it appears she and I share similar manifestations of symptoms. Not only that, but I discovered we live in the same state.  It is comforting for me to get to know someone that I already have so much in common with.

Today, Emily shares her favorite mental health resources with us.  Please take the time to check out at least a few of the sites she has listed.  There are some real gems.

1.  Untypically Jia –  I think you know her.  She has OCD.  She’s so wonderfully quirky.  She will make you smile no matter how bad you feel.
2. No Points For Style –  Mother of a child with mental illness.  She gives a different perspective about how mental illness affects the entire family.  She also uses humor a great deal.
3.  A Daring Adventure – Free life coaching.  I love the cartoonish pictures and his very “daring” or brutally honest look at different topics.
4.  Depressions and Confessions – alexis had PPD as well as at least one major depressive episode.  her writing style is unique.  she reminds me of e e cummings
5.  Dr. Deb – A professional psychologist whose posts often surprise me such as her latest about Therapy Service Dogs.  I didn’t know such existed.
6.  Violence Unsilenced – Survivor stories.  Very emotional.  Very disturbing.  But it’s the truth.
7. Psychology Today – This site has a variety of blogs, all of which I have found useful.  They’ve got it covered.
8.  PsychCentral – Like Psychology Today, they have multiple resources.
9.  NAMI (National Alliance for Mental Illness) – Mental health advocates, and another source of information.
10. Sugar Filled Emotions – I’m not always as vocal as I should be, but Melissa is a fellow Georgian with similar illnesses to mine.  She works very hard at educating people through her blog and a Twitter newspaper.

Donation

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I have never wanted Sugar Filled Emotions to become a site full of click ads, and it never will.  The reality is that sometimes I do struggle to pay my hosting fees – even though they are very low.  I had resisted putting any type of donation button on the blog for a long time, however, today I decided there was no shame in having a small button for people to donate funds towards the blogs operating costs.  I am not going to constantly ask people to donate to the site. I might mention it once a month or so.

I have placed a small donation button at the very bottom the blog.  If you click on the button and follow the directions you can donate any amount you choose to the blog. I will see absolutely none of the money.  It is deposited in an account, held by my hosting company, and when bill time comes around they use whatever funds are available there to pay for anything I might owe.

If people can donate great, if not, that is fine too.  Nothing will change about how the site operates regardless of how little or much the site receives in donations.  My only goal is to make it easier for me to keep things running.

Thankful Five

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It is that time again!  It is the time for me to list the things I am thankful for! I look forward to this time because it reminds of all the little things in my life that I am thankful for.

1.  I am thankful for being able to spend a whole day outside Saturday.

2. I am thankful for a mom who listens to me vent my frustrations, and then jokes about it.

3. I am thankful for my dad.  He is there for me no matter how old I get.

4. I am thankful for my support system.

5.  I am thankful for the things I got accomplished today.

What are YOU thankful for?

Mental Health Blogger Of The Week

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I would like to welcome Emily of Surviving Limbo as the Mental Health Blogger Of  The Week. I asked Emily a series of questions, so rather than me tell you about her, I am going to let Emily’s own words do that.  I know we are going to learn a great deal from Emily and her story.

1. What type of mental illness/es do you have?

I was a victim of child abuse.  As a result, I have anxiety disorders–PTSD, GAD (Generalized Anxiety Disorder), Panic Disorder.  I also have mild agoraphobia.  I say mild because I can go out under certain conditions such as when not many people are around.  I have major depression.  To compound matters, the past years of not getting out of the house, not having the energy or will to do anything have led to obesity.  It’s one of those vicious cycles.  My movement and energy levels are impaired even further.

2. When were you first diagnosed with your mental illness?

I was first diagnosed with mental illness during my first year of college.  I had withdrawn into near isolation in spite of living in a dormitory with a roommate.  I had confided suicidal thoughts to my best friend.  Then I had my first giant panic attack, the first one that I recognized anyway.  I had gone down into the deserted and dark basement where we held monthly meetings, an odd habit of mine.  I like hiding holes.  They make me feel safer.  Along with all the sensations that go with a panic attack (heart racing, chest pains, hyperventilation, etc.), I was also screaming and crying and throwing metal chairs around.  Several roommates heard the noise and several tried to calm me down while one went for the room mother, a young woman who was in charge of taking care of us.  They coaxed me into a car and took me to the hospital.  By that time, I had withdrawn into one of those creepy dissociative states.  I was also diagnosed with that at one time, but it is less a problem now.  It’s sort of like catatonia except you move around and follow directions, reacting minimally to your environment, and I spent the rest of the time staring numbly into space.  In the ER, a psychiatric nurse was called down, and after about 10 minutes of trying to get me to respond, they admitted me into the psych ward.

3. In what ways, if any, do you believe your life has changed since your diagnosis?

I was able to “hold it together” for some years.  I got through college, got married, became a teacher.  I took anti-depressants but did not see a therapist.  Episodes (I don’t know what else to call them?) occurred periodically, but mostly I was okay until about 4-5 years ago when I broke down completely.  There’s an account of this on my blog. I lost my job.  We had not been very good with our money, living paycheck to paycheck, so when we lost my income, we were reduced to near poverty.  We almost lost our home, and we eventually had to declare bankruptcy.  It took 3 years for my disability to be approved.  I have to fight to do “normal” things.  Getting out of bed is an achievement.  Cooking dinner and watching TV is an achievement.  Family outings, including going to relatives houses for Christmas and Easter and my daughter’s birthday parties and events, are not possible for me now.  My daughter and I usually have a private little celebration to the extent I am able, and her Daddy handles the rest.  My husband also has become disabled because of a movement disorder the doctors can’t pinpoint, further complicating our lives.  My social life is limited to online communication, even for friends who are right here in Rome, Georgia.

4. What are some positive things you have learned about yourself since your diagnosis?

As they say, there is always a silver lining.  Even though , our little family is closer than ever.  I think my experiences have made me empathetic, or extremely sensitive to other people’s pain.  I have a sincere desire to help.  In an effort to facilitate the healing process, I’ve clearly mapped out my values and priorities according to the principles of my belief system.  It’s made me appreciate the little things.  Maybe I can’t go to my daughter’s birthday, for example, but she and I can work together to make a birthday cake for us to eat here at home.  I treasure that time with her.  I’ve learned a great deal about mental illness, and blogging has put me in touch with others who struggle.  This has helped a great deal, knowing that I’m not alone, a freak of nature.

5. I realize that your daughter is still very young, and probably is not all that aware of your mental illness. However, as she gets older, what if anything do you plan to say to her about it?

My daughter understands my illness better than you think she would, considering her age. She helps take care of me, inverting the mother/daughter roles sometimes. She’s 8! She doesn’t understand completely (not sure I do either), but I’ve told her the basics about my mother and my abuse at her hands. She knows I’m sick. She knows the reason I am sick is because of my genetics (why some people have brown eyes and some people have blue), my childhood environment, and how that environment shaped the way I respond to things. She knows I can’t do things other mommies can do, but she tells me if she could pick her mommy, she would always choose me. That’s my wise little Padawan. When she gets older, her understanding will grow I am sure.

6.  If given the opportunity, what is something you would like to say to someone who has been recently diagnosed with the same type of mental illness that you have?

I would have a lot to say to someone diagnosed with the same illness.  Along with the love of writing, that is the primary purpose of my blog.  I began writing to teach people about mental illness and how it affects everything and to connect and share experiences with people like me.  There is most definitely a stigma, and I believe the only way to battle it is by open communication and education.  Even though it’s terrifying and there are repercussions, some of us are going to have to speak up.  The most important advice is to not give up.  Keep taking baby steps.

7.  When deciding who you would like to have as part of your support system, what things do you look for?

I miraculously have found a support system online.  They are similar in temperament, have common interests, exhibit tolerance toward others, and they are extremely kind and encouraging.

Me, Myself, And The Outdoors

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Guess what I did?  I spent ALL of Saturday outside! In the fresh air! Around people!

Before you say “So.” or “What’s the big deal?”, let me explain a few things.

I have not spent that much time outside in years. I USED to hike. I USED to camp. I USED to do yard work. I USED to enjoy spending time outside. That was BEFORE asthma, BEFORE diabetes, BEFORE depression. Being outside became a place that was undesirable, and uncomfortable. It became I place that I feared.

The pollen and wind – especially a chilly wind – can often cause a lock down of my lungs.  Trying to keep everything sanitary to monitor and manage my diabetes is a challenge in certain outdoor settings. When my depression was at its worst, being outside was impossible. For that matter, just getting out of bed was impossible at times. Then there was the sweating.  The massive amount of sweating that took place almost anytime I was outside – except in the coolest of conditions.  It left my hair dripping with moisture, and my clothes soaking wet.

Every year during the third weekend of October, the little town I live in has a festival.  It is called Talking Rock Heritage Days.  For the last several years my grandmother has participated in it as a vendor.  It is a big deal.  She sells all sorts of homemade jams, jellies and preserves.  She sells a southern delicacy called a fried pie.  Apple fried pies, peach fried pies, sweet potato fried pies. I cannot forget the cornbread cake and her spicy pecans.

I have not gone in several years.  It is outside and there are lots of people.  This year I decided to go.  I am very glad I went. It was a fun and enjoyable experience.

A couple of the reasons I enjoyed it so much was as a result of no longer taking the Effexor.  The withdrawal may have been really awful, but it is paying off now.  I did not experience the massive amount of sweating that I used to have.  The best reason that I felt so good physically was that my blood sugar was the best it has been in months. The Effexor was causing it to run in the 300 to over 400 range almost constantly, even with insulin injections.  Before lunch yesterday, my blood sugar was 156 and before supper it was 126.  Yes.  I know that is still high but compared to the readings I had been getting, those numbers rock. Feeling so good meant that I had the energy to walk around.

I walked around a crowed festival. Me, in a crowd, WITHOUT experiencing a panic attack! I saw people I had not seen in years. That was huge for me.  Talking to people in general is difficult for me in that type of setting, however, one of my fears has been running into people I used to know.  It went well.  In fact, I think it went really well. I got business cards from vendors.  I spoke to them about putting them up on my blog and they said they would use their sites to link back to me if I did that.  A vendor gave me an item that I am going to use in a blog give away I am planning.  I joked with a total stranger.

I was the me that I have been wanting to be for a long time.