Tag Archives: Mental Health

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.

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.


Sugar Filled Emotions Newsletter

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You heard it right here first! Sugar Filled Emotions now has its own official newsletter!

Starting on October 22, 2010 you can have Sugar Filled Emotions delivered to your inbox on a weekly basis.  It will not just be a recreation of Sugar Filled Emotions the blog. It is going to have interesting Mental Health stories from around the world, I will be highlighting Mental Health Heroes, some of my favorite inspiration quotes and so much more.

Just like Sugar Filled Emotions the blog has evolved since its inception, the content of the Sugar Filled Emotions Newsletter will change and become more dynamic as I refine the process.

There is a link at the top of the blog that you can click on to have the newsletter sent to you, or you can use the form contained in this post to sign up for it.

I have great ideas in store for the Official Sugar Filled Emotions Newsletter and I look  forward to having you along for the ride!






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Abby Brings It Home

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What a wonderful week it has been, having Abby from Life @ The Poles here. It has been a real treat for me.  Not only did she take time away from her day to create a new post for us everyday this week, she did it while her In-Laws have been in town.  Abby rocks!

Let’s look at what she has for us today.

My bad days
can happen at a moment’s notice,
and be gone almost as quickly.
More often than not
I get a stretch of bad days
and it’s those times I have to prepare for.
I try and watch for signs
that a rough patch is on the way,
and having even a little bit of warning
helps.
(This is where the whole
writing daily thing comes in handy.
I know better now
what to look for
because of the writing
than I did before,
so it’s easier to catch them.)
One of the most basic things I do
is plan out
the major meals for the week
ahead of time,
and have all the supplies
in the house
at the start of the week.
I try and keep
a regular as possible
weekly schedule,

as far as when I go shopping and such,
so that if something unexpected happens
(and it often does)
at least I know
what we’re having for dinner.
Even if it’s just the kids and my husband
eating hot dogs
when I’m too depressed to cook or eat.
Which happens more often
than I like to think about.
Other things I do
to help make life smoother
on those rough days
are smaller,
but still important.
I try and keep my mp3 player charged
in case I just need to tune out the world
and unwind.
I try and keep
at least one thing in the house
I know I can grab to eat quickly
that I will eat
no matter what else I won’t eat.
(I go through phases
of not eating certain things
or only eating certain things,
or not eating until dizzy
and feeling ill.
It’s not good for me,
so I try and prepare ahead of time
for those little quirks of mine.)
Sometimes
that might be homemade guacamole (http://lifeatthepoles.com/2010/06/eat-it-with-a-spoon-guacamole/ )
and other times
it may very well be Slim Jims.
Other things are not so much
to make hard days easier
so much as make hard days
harder to have.
I keep my yoga mat
weights
and favorite workout DVD’s
in plain sight at all times,
so there is no forgetting
to get in my workout that day.
I feel better when I do,
at least most days,
and I know
that I’ll ‘forget’
if I don’t have a consistent reminder.
I keep a knitting project near by,
because it’s harder to kill people
if you have needles in your hands.
My medications
are in the same spot
every single day,
and where I will see them
every single day.
There isn’t much
that makes for a harder than usual day
than forgetting my meds that morning.
I also set alarms on the cell phone.
Which might not seem
like something that helps make for a better day
but when you have a tendency
to lose track of time
easily and often
having an alarm go off
shortly before you need to head out
to go pick up the kids from school
or when you need to wake up
(just in case
you turn off the other alarm in your sleep)
helps things go much more smoothly.
Besides that,
being late for picking up
or dropping off
my kiddos
really and truly bothers me
and can throw my mood off
for a good chunk of the day.
So being on time for those
helps prevent
a possible crummy day.

Really,
all of the things I do
to deal with the ups and downs
of my particular flavor of disorder
are pretty basic.
However,
I’ve found
that on the worst days
it’s the basic things
that are the hardest to do,
and when I can’t manage them,
I feel worse about myself
on top of being depressed.
So instead of feeling as if I’ve failed
to even get the basic things done,
I take steps on the easier days
to make the harder days
easier.
It all evens out in the end,
and more importantly,
knowing that I am doing more
than just surviving with this disorder,
that I am
through awareness and planning
learning to live with this disorder,
makes the bit of extra work
worth it
at the end of the day –
on the good ones
and on the not so good ones.

Abby Shares

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I have really enjoyed having Abby from Life @ The Poles visiting us this week.  I have learned so much from her.  I really appreciate all the extra work she has done to have something for us everyday.

Today, Abby shares with us one of her older posts.  One that she is particularly proud of.  She shared with me that she has several other posts she has done that she is proud of.  I encourage you to take a look at her site and see what she has to share there.

Technicolor Coat of Dreams

By ABBY | Published: JULY 23, 2010

“There is a fine line between genius and insanity.”

–

When you can barely tell the real
from the mirage,
when the mirage is your real,
anything is possible.
Nothing is real,
and anything is possible.
(Chaos.)

If you spend long enough there
you can start to believe anything,
just to have something to believe in.
But if you are careful
if you just sit still
and watch
if you let it run through you
and observe
you’ll start to find
things that repeat.
You’ll find threads
that you can begin to weave together
to make something.
Even if it’s only
threads of insanity woven together,
it’s at least consistent insanity.
Nothing is real,
and anything is possible.
(Chaos.)

It turns out
that those threads
are not always
just insanity.
Sometimes
they are just
bits of reality
that needle their way through.
Sometimes though,
if you watch carefully enough
they are what become
your truth,
the principles and rules
upon which you can begin to build
what will keep you together
within the maelstrom of madness.
Nothing is real,
and anything is possible.
(Chaos.)

And in the middle of the chaos
you’ll find some semblance of peace
and you’ll learn
how to silence
the howling winds around you.
You’ll weave together
the truths you’ve so carefully held on to
slowly
so as not to break them.
And out of them
will come your own
technicolor coat of dreams,
woven of the truths you’ve found
when
nothing was real
and anything was possible,
and all around you
was swirling Chaos.
And out of that Chaos,
out of that Chaos,
that is from where you will come.
From the primordial forces
from which all things came
you will come
wearing your technicolor coat of dreams.
And you will see
what is Real
and you will wear
what is True.
Draped around your shoulders
and woven by your own hands
from the threads that run through insanity,
you will have found
the Truth,
the Truth in madness,
and survived.

–

“It’s not what you are, it’s what you don’t become that hurts.” – Oscar Levant

Video Chat

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I hosted my first Mental Health Video chat Wednesday night and it rocked. It was an awesome way to get to know a couple of my fellow mental health bloggers. There was no agenda. We mostly spent  the time to getting to know each other and spent some time talk about what our mental health issues are.

We are going to do it again.  In fact we are going to do it again Thursday, October 21, at 9:00 EST.

Even though it is a video chat, web cams are not required to participate.  There is a chat box that you can use to participate.  I really hope to see you there!

The Choice

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Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be. ~Abraham Lincoln

Really, Mr. Lincoln? Does that mean if I am not a happy camper right now, that it is my own fault? That I am responsible for losing my happy thoughts? You mean there is not a slow leak in my brain that is allowing my happiness to just slide right out onto the floor?

Well, now I guess that puts the matter of my own happiness, right in my own lap – or brain. I can choose to be content with what I have, with what is going on, and with what I have to deal with. Or not.

That seems easy enough. I will just choose to be happy. Starting now…..

Maybe it takes a few minutes to start working, cause I am not feeling it yet. If I cross my arms and stand on one leg….nope. Still not feeling it.

I think choosing to be happy is part of it, but I think making that choice – by itself – is not enough. Maybe I have to actually do something to reach a state of well-being and contentment. Something more than crossing my arms and standing on one leg. I think that if I am making the choice to be happy, then I must take some proactive steps toward reaching a state of happiness. That actually sounds like work. Possibly hard work.

What is so important about being happy that it would inspire me put some effort into obtaining it? There are so many people getting by without it. Getting by…not much effort involved. They do seem kind of sad, mad, weary, and leery. They do not have much to laugh about, or a bright spot in their day, but they are getting by. They do seem angry, and appear to have a hard time letting things go. Hostility and stress seems to ooze out of their pores. They are getting by though.

Are they really getting by? Or are they really just sitting there stewing in their stressed induced high blood pressure, and extra stomach acid. Possibly subtracting minutes, hours and days from their lives because of not being happy. Because of only just getting by. With nothing to brighten their day and lighten their load, I wonder if their days seem long and hard?

I want more in my life than just getting by. I do not want to stare at day after day with nothing to make me feel good. Just an endless stretch of…the same old thing. Not even a pleasant same old thing. Endless days spent recounting all the wrongs that have been done to me. Whining about how unfair MY life is. Stewing and brewing in my own juices of discontent.

Living a life of contentment seems so much more pleasant than just getting by. I guess putting some effort into being happy is worth it.

I could start with thinking about some positives in my life.  My family loves me. My little dog is fun to play with. My mind is healthier than it used to be. That took some effort, but it was not as hard as I thought it would be. In fact, it was pretty easy, and each positive thing I thought of made me smile.  I felt happy. I bet if I put a little more effort into it, I could find all sorts of ways to be happy.

There is something to what Mr. Lincoln said.  If I make the choice to be happy and then follow it up with the appropriate action, I am happy.  I have a feeling of contentment.

I was not feeling particularly happy when I began writing this. You can see the evidence of this in the argument I had with Abraham Lincoln. It is very difficult to write about happiness when you are feeling extremely unhappy.  I could blame my unhappiness on my mental illness.  Or I could blame it on the withdrawal from my old anti-depressant, or my reaction to the new one.  I could even blame my unhappiness on the fact that I am a 40 year old woman with fluctuating hormones. The fact of the matter is that is exactly what I was doing.  I was NOT taking responsibility for my own unhappiness and happiness.

Granted all of those things were contributing to my mood. However, I did not have to give them as much power over my happiness as I did.  I gave them that much power by spending most of my time concentrating on them, and not using one of the very first tools I gained when I began my depression treatment. Focusing on the positives in my life.

I do not know about you, but for me, achieving a state of happiness is hard work.  It was so much easier for me to be in a state unhappiness than it was to put any effort into being happy.  However, I was satisfied with nothing, not myself, not my family, not even with my life.  I had entered into a pattern of whining, crankiness, and wallowing in my own misery.  The more I did that, the more unhappy I became.

I was seeing new challenges in my life as difficulties rather than as opportunities to grow.  I was so busy wallowing that I was missing how many people I have in my life that were encouraging me, checking on me and challenging me to rise above unhappiness. It has been a good lesson to me about my ability to choose happiness and contentment over unhappiness and discontentment.  I may have faltered a bit, but in the end I chose Happiness.