Tag Archives: Mental Health

A New Phase in the Depression Treatment Process

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It is hard for me to believe, but I think I am ready for a new phase in my depression treatment. Actually, I think I already entered it, but it is now time to make it official. During the summer of last year, I started to attend group therapy sessions, and I greatly reduced the amount of individual counseling I received. It was a good and natural step in my depression treatment process. I had begun to rely on my counselor for a great many things and it was time for me to start learning how to rely on myself. I think with all of the challenges and life-changing events I have experienced during that time, I have exhibited to myself that I have the necessary skills to maintain my own mental health.

 

Gradually, during this time I began going to group less and less. Despite plugging into the mental health treatment center less than I did before I think I have still done a good job at maintaining appropriate coping skills and mental health. Consequently, I have decided that before I go to the group therapy session on Wednesday morning, I will spend some one-on-one time with my counselor discussing my desire to graduate to a new level of care. I think it is time I went to what my mental treatment center refers to as a medication maintenance plan.

 

In essence, this means I will only need to go to the treatment center to occasionally meet with a psychiatrist regarding my medications. This will ensure that they are still working properly and that I am not having any life threatening side effects. It will also allow me to stay enrolled into the treatment center just enough for me to have a safety net in case I run into any problems that I believe I cannot handle on my own.

 

I’m kind of excited about making this decision. For me, the goal of depression treatment has been to get me to the point where I have the skills needed to maintain my own mental health. Certainly, there are areas that I still need to make huge improvements in; however, I can’t think of any person who does not have some areas in their emotional and mental health that they need to improve on. I have come to the realization that I am no different than anyone else in the world. At least now I know that the probability of me ever getting that sick with depression and anxiety again are slim to none. I can say this with confidence because I know how far I’ve come, and I can picture how far I will continue to go. In addition, if it ever happens that I get that sick again, I know where to go for help and I know that it really does work.

It is NOT a Small World Anymore

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There once was a time in my life when I was literally a world traveler. I was fortunate because my father had a job that enabled my family and me to travel around the globe. When I was growing up, and as a young adult, I was able to experience many things that the average person does not get to, and I was able to meet a great many interesting people. I loved it!

 

Unfortunately, depression and anxiety make my world a very small place. It was so small that it consisted entirely of my house. At that time, I could barely leave my front door, much less picture myself traveling anywhere on an airplane. Over time, due in part to my depression and anxiety treatment, my world once again became a bigger place. I could leave my house, drive down the road to the grocery store, and even drive through downtown Atlanta in the middle of rush hour. However, as much as my world had grown I never actually thought that I would ever have any big traveling adventures again. The last few weeks have proven differently.

 

Once again, I have been bitten by the traveling bug and I am ready to keep expanding my world. There are so many things that I want to see and do! Traveling for the last three weeks has given me a taste of what I can experience if I take the time to just do it.

 

I think what amazes me the most is how much I appreciated everything I was able to see and do. It was like I was looking at everything with a new set of eyes. I think, in a way, I was and I am. I believe that my time being so sick with depression and anxiety, and my suicide attempt, have given me an appreciation for life, the world, and people that I never had before. It is hard to describe what I feel when I think about how close I came to ending it all and now having so much in my life. I really do not know how I will ever be able to thank my mother enough for introducing me to the big, wide world again.

 

I know that if I can come from being as sick as I was, and unable to leave my house, to traveling across the country, talking with strangers, and enjoying myself the whole time that anyone can do it. Just have a little faith in yourself, push yourself a lot, be patient with yourself, and create a wonderful support system and your world will grow too.

The Ache

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In the months since dad died the constant ache in my heart has lessened a great deal. It is not because I miss him any less, I think it has more to do with me getting used to him not being around. But there are days, really hard days when that paid in my heart is a strong as the day he died.

Today is one of those days. Being here with people that knew my dad for many, many years has been bittersweet. I have enjoyed listening to them talk about my father, and I have enjoyed sharing stories with them about my father. However, today has been full of sadness for me. Today, Dale celebrated her 70th birthday. It is a joyous day for her, and it should be, but it reminds of how much I wanted to spend dad’s birthday with him this year.

I just want to stand up and yell “IT’S NOT FAIR!”


Surprise!

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I was able to get a flight out of Monterey, California early Sunday morning, and I am now staying with some very good friends of my parents in Surprise, Arizona. Outside of going home, I do not think I could have landed in a better place. I will be staying here until the14th September, and then I will fly to Seattle and board the cruise ship on the 16th September.

 

Dale and Jim Rutherford are the names of my hosts, and they have been absolutely terrific. The bedroom I am staying in is absolutely beautiful, with all the comforts of home and then some. They have been absolutely gracious, and have allowed me the time and space that I need to work and do my school assignments.

 

It has been very nice here, not just because of how wonderful they are, but they are people that have no my parents for 20 years or more and it has been very nice talking about dad with them. I have learned things about my father I did not know, and I have been able to share things with them about dad they did not know. I have teared up more than once, but they have been very good about not making a big deal about it.

 

When I was still in Monterey and trying to find a flight out it quickly became obvious that getting back to Georgia and then to Seattle on time was going to be challenging. By that point I was beyond exhausted, mentally and physically, and I really just needed a place to rest. When I had about given up on the possibility of finding a flight to Georgia, my mother texted me and asked me to check on flights to the Phoenix, Arizona airport. Not only was it significantly cheaper to fly there, I could get a flight out within 24 hours. We decided that coming here was the best option for me, rather than have me fly clear across the country again. Including an hour and a half layover in Los Angeles, it only took me a little over three hours to get here. That is much better than the 18 hours it took me to get to Monterey, California, due to all the stops I had to make.

 

So far, the hundred plus temperatures have not bothered me, but then again it is a different type of heat than what I’m used to. However, I’m sure by the time I leave I will be ready for the cooler weather that awaits me in Alaska.

Being a Parent is Hard

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Anyone who is a parent knows that there are times when we have to make tough decisions for the best interests of our child. Sometimes the consequences of these decisions are painful, for both the parent and the child, and can drastically, and forever, alter relationships. Last night, I was put in the position of having to make one of those hard decisions.

 

I think most everyone who reads my blog knew that I was going to Monterey, California to visit my son for two weeks, before I left on the Alaska cruise. I had really been looking forward to spending the time with him. Unfortunately, since the time I arrived here, Tuesday night, I have been miserable. My son is on a path of self-destruction, and I had to take steps to intervene.

 

Before I even got here, he kept saying he didn’t have any money. I understood that. He does not get paid a lot of money as a Marine. So, I was prepared to buy groceries, and other things to make it easier for him while I was here. However, a lack of money does not explain what I walked into Tuesday night. The first thing I noticed when he opened the door to his house was an overwhelming smell of urine and feces, as well as rotting garbage. Upon entering the house, it was very obvious that he has been living in squalor. I cannot even put into words how disgusting and unsanitary everything was.

 

The next morning, he had to go to work and was going to be gone for several hours. The night before I had asked him to take us to the grocery store so I could put some food in the house, and he told me nothing was open. So basically what that meant, was that he was going to leave me, an insulin-dependent diabetic, in house where there literally was no food. Obviously, that was not acceptable. He ended up going to McDonald’s and getting me some breakfast. When he left for work, I was left in the foul smelling, unsanitary house.

 

After he got home from work, I asked him several times to clean the kitchen. I tried to explain to him that if he wanted me to cook anything the kitchen needed to be sanitary. In the end, he put a few dishes in the dishwasher, leaving most of them in the sink. The majority of the dishes had probably been in the sink for a couple of weeks. He claims that in the two weeks that they piled up in there he had no time to wash them. In fact, he said he never had time to do any cleaning in the house. However, he had time to party, he had money to buy alcohol, and he had time to hang out with his friends.

 

In the hallway of his house he has duct taped blankets to the floor to hide the fact that the floor is ruined due to animal urine and feces. Even the room I am staying in has areas that have been stained by animal urine and feces. There were beer bottles and beer cans everywhere. There was also trash piled up everywhere, even in his own bed.

 

Anyone seeing this would know that there’s something seriously wrong with him. No one in their right mind would choose to live in squalor. So last night, I made a decision. I contacted people in his command, and had them come to document the living situation. Obviously, he’s going to have to face serious consequences. However, I could not leave here without taking drastic steps to get him help.

 

From what I understand, this is not the first time someone has had an issue with his house, nor was it the first time someone from his command had to come to his house about the living conditions. I was told that “he fell through the cracks”. I have been assured that appropriate steps to get him help will happen, and if he does what is required of him this will not ruin his career with the Marines.

 

He is very angry with me, and probably will be for a long time. I can live with his anger, as long as he gets the help he needs. I will give him credit for something; he did tell me that as angry as he is he will not treat me disrespectfully or badly.

 

Tomorrow morning, at 6 AM, I will be heading to Phoenix to stay with some friends. There are certain consequences that my son will have to face that cannot be implemented as long as I’m staying in house. This is because where he is living is considered base housing/government housing and they cannot confine him to base and leave a civilian in the house.

 

I am beyond tired. Every part of me aches, especially my legs. I think I am mentally and physically exhausted. I have been sleeping on a mattress on the floor, and to be quite frank, I’m looking forward to sleeping in a bed. I think I feel depressed. Not in a bad this is a depressive episode depressed, but more like it is depressing that my son was choosing to live this way, and I had to be the one who turned him in.

It’s Finished!

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It’s over! It’s done! IT’S FINISHED!

I am talking about my first semester of college.

Friday night I had to take two finals. One was in English/grammar review, and the other was in math review. I did well. I did really, really well. My score for the English/grammar final was 98%, and my score for the math final was 97%.

I was nervous about taking the math final. I had a lot riding on it. Even though my grade in the class was in A, if I did not do well on the final I technically would not have passed the class. So I studied, and I studied, and then I studied some more. When it came time to take the final it was still nervous; however, I managed to get through the test without having to struggle. It took me about 40 min. to complete the 30 problems on it. I was able to see my score soon as I finished. I cannot tell you how relieved and excited I was to see that I only missed one problem.

After I finished the math final, it was time for me to take the English/grammar final. There was one section that I was slightly nervous about. It had to do with identifying simple, compound, complex, and compound-complex sentences. Even though I could tell you what those types of sentences were, I struggled to identify them in the lessons. In the end, I decided that I probably knew as much is I could absorb when it came to the English/grammar class, so I decided to go ahead and take the final. Out of 55 questions I only missed one, and I scored 100% on the section that I thought I would have problems with.

I am really proud of the final grades I ended up with in each class:

English/grammar review – 98.15%

Math review – 96.56%

Those grades combined with the 100% I made in the Skills for Success class that I had to take in the first session of the semester mean that so far my GPA is excellent.

One of the things that surprised me about the math class is that I found myself actually looking forward to the discussion math questions every week. I enjoyed figuring out the answer to the equations given in formulating a response. I think maybe I am better at math than I ever gave myself credit for. Certainly, I am not proficient at it, nor is it my favorite subject; however, I think my own negative attitude about it probably got in the way of me being able to do well in past math classes.

I think there is a lesson in that revelation. It makes me wonder how many other times my past negative attitude got in the way of me being able to be successful. I think it is a lesson I need to pay attention to.

A Flip-Flopping Legacy

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Years ago, I used to sell items that I had crocheted at a farmer’s market in Pickens County, Georgia. I sold all kinds of things ranging from shawls, hats, scarves, and flip-flops that I had crocheted on. Of course, that was before Major Depression and anxiety got in the way of me doing things. In fact, as much as I enjoyed crocheting, my depression and anxiety got so bad that I could not do it anymore. I simply could not concentrate on what I needed to do. However, before I gave up crocheting the Home-Ec teacher at the local high school asked me to teach her how to crochet on flip-flops.

Apparently, there is some type of Home-Ec club that students can belong to. Because it is not one of the more popular or well-known clubs it often lacks the funding to send the kids off for competitions. Her idea was to create a few small inexpensive projects that could be sold at the farmer’s market as a way to help the students raise money for their trips. She thought that the flip-flops would be something easy for them to sell.

I spent a few afternoons over several weeks showing the teacher and a few of her students how to crochet and flip-flops. They set up a booth at the farmers market and seem to do pretty good selling them. Once it became difficult for me to leave the house I lost track of the teacher, the students, and how they were doing at selling the flip-flops.

A couple Saturdays ago I had the opportunity to go to the farmer’s market, someplace I had not been to for a very long time. While I was wandering around I discovered that Home-Ec teacher sitting behind a booth selling products for the Home-Ec club. Guess what she had on her table? If you guessed flip-flops that had been crocheted on, you are correct!

Even after all these years, she and the Home-Ec club were still selling those flip-flops. That made me feel really good. I have left a positive mark in the lives of teenagers I have never even met.

You know, part of my depression was beating myself up, and telling myself that I was worthless and I had nothing to offer the world. I realize that what I thought about myself was untrue, but there is something about seeing a tangible mark that you have left in the world that makes you feel good. It also emphasizes how wrong I was when I believed that I was worthless and had nothing of value to offer the world.

So without hesitation I can proudly say I have a FLIP-FLOPPING LEGACY!

I know that many of you who read my blog are in the place I was a few years ago. It is a dark and lonely place, and you may believe that you are worthless and have nothing of value to give to your family, your friends, and/or the world. However, I want you to know that you do. I never realized what an impact silly, little, crocheted flip-flops would have on people I never even met. I bet know that each and every one of you have contributed something positive and good to the world, but maybe you are just not seeing it right now. I would like to urge you to take some time, attempt to put aside the negative feelings you have about yourself, and really look at your life. I know you will find something that you have given to the world. Do not discount it because it may seem small and silly to you, because it is possible that it has had a bigger impact on people’s lives than you realize.

There Is a Time for Everything…

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There is a time for everything,

and a season for every activity under the heavens:

a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace. Ecclesiastes 3:1 – 8

 

I never gave much thought to the concept that there are seasons in our lives. The way I viewed life was either it was going right – meaning the way I wanted it to – or it was going wrong. I never examined the idea that there are certain times – seasons – in our lives when we are supposed to endure and experience certain things in order to help us grow. I am in a season of loss right now. I have lost relationships, lost my father, and have lost material possessions. There have been times when all of this loss has felt overwhelming. However, I am beginning to realize that within this season of loss there are other seasons.

 

It certainly has been a time for me to uproot. When I came to mom and dads to stay for good the only possessions I had were what I could fit in to dad’s car. It has been a time for weeping and mourning. However, it has also been a time for laughter and a time for embracing. As painful as it has been, I have learned that it is also time to give up on certain relationships for a while. At the same time, it has been a time for mending some relationships. It has definitely been a time for love and it has also been a time for hate. I hate the way certain people in my life are behaving, and I hate how they treat me. It was not until the other day that I realized that even though I am in the midst of all of this, life still goes on. My sadness, my mourning, and my weeping will not stop that from happening.

 

It took my mom’s dog to show me that life goes on. Su Ling has been in the midst of her own grief. She has missed dad and her big sister, Mei Ling, immensely. Su Ling always had a special relationship with Mei Ling, and as Mei Ling got older that relationship seemed to intensify. One way that this special relationship manifested itself was in how Su Ling seemed to know that Mei Ling had a difficult time hearing and seeing. If we could not find Mei Ling anywhere it was useless for us to call her by name since she could not hear us; however, Su Ling had a way of helping us find Mei Ling. All we had to do was say, “Where’s Mei Ling?”, and Su Ling would start searching for her. She was very intent in her endeavors to find Mei Ling. Once Su Ling found Mei Ling, she would get excited and start barking. It was a very special bark that she only used after she had found her big sister. In addition to barking, she would often use her body to gently guide Mei Ling to where we were. Obviously, with Mei Ling being gone, we have not seen Sue Ling do that in quite some time. However, that changed the other day.

 

I knew my dog, Minnie, and Su Ling had been spending quite a bit of time together, but I did not realize how close they had become. The other day, I could not find Minnie anywhere in the house. I assumed that she would be in mom’s bedroom curled up with Su Ling. I stuck my head into mom’s room and asked her if she knew where Minnie was. Su Ling heard me ask about Minnie and began to follow me while I searched. I eventually found Minnie outside lying in the sun. I did not realize that Su Ling had actually been earnestly looking for Minnie. The next thing I know, I heard Su Ling’s special bark and saw her herding Minnie to where I was. She was doing the exact same thing for Minnie that she used to do for Mei Ling. I know she has not forgotten about Mei Ling; however, she has found a way to move past her loss and become close to another creature. She has not allowed her sadness to interfere with life.

 

I know that there have been plenty of times in this season of loss that I am experiencing, when I have allowed my grief to interfere with life. I find it very interesting that it took a little dog to remind me that life goes on, and I cannot allow myself to get bogged down by my feelings of sadness. It allowed me to see that within this season of loss there is also a season of healing.