Sunday Review/Happy Monday!

Yesterday was the 15th anniversary of 9/11 and even though I had been thinking of the event all week, I honestly forgot about it that morning until halfway through my walk with Fio.

It was a beautiful morning and I found myself feeling so grateful that I could be taking a peaceful walk without fearing for my life, even swapping content "good morning" greetings with my neighbors. We're just about strangers to each other but we're also countrymen with an undeniable link and that's so important to remember.

The radio station I happened to have on played the anthem on the hour all day and the hubs and I both really appreciated it (even got a little teary!) despite not being in love with the version they selected... but Whitney Houston's take on the anthem grew on us during the day I think.

I always end up feeling very grateful even though there are also many dark feelings like fear and anger that come along with these anniversaries.

Speaking of anniversaries, Sunday also happened to mark 5 months since I attempted to take my life. I still feel like I'm "sick" and frustrated to still be striving for some undefined "all better" or sense of feeling good enough (but really, even when I'm "healthy" I'm not sure if I've ever been able to maintain a sense of feeling good enough). I think that's a really complicated aspect of my mental health, but someday I hope to be at peace with myself and really, truly accepting my best as good enough.

All that said, I think I've made a lot of changes and my baby steps are adding up to many positive shifts in my health and my life. I still have hard days and I still wonder if I can hold it all together, but more and more I find myself believing in my own strength and appreciating the little things that I'm able to do now that I just couldn't manage those several months back-even simple things like getting out of the condo, feeding myself, and doing chores.

We didn't do anything specific to commemorate the date but the hubs and I were both contemplative and able to appreciate our family hike and time together a little more than usual :o)

Here are some fun pictures from the trail: a cool frog I spotted, a family selfie, and some goofy pics. Also, another selfie from story time at home that night.

Many emotions and ups and downs but overall a good day.

So far, my Monday is going well. I was feeling well enough to cancel the ECT appointment I made "just in case" last week. There were a few pretty bad days last week that made us think I might need a treatment to get the suicidal thoughts to subside, but I think I'm transitioning out of the darkness-at least I'm working hard to try and make that happen!

Anyways, the ECT staff and TMS staff have been very helpful and supportive and I'm so glad to have them as part of my treatment. It's amazing how such wonderful people manage to be in some of the darkest spots of life and brighten things up no matter how bad things get.

Happy Monday all!

A Busy Day

Today I had appointments for TMS and meeting with my psychiatrist, the first of which was at 8:00 AM! Lemme tell you, driving into Seattle for an 8:00 AM appointment is something special, but I made it right on time and had a good treatment session.

I had some time to kill between appointments and enjoyed myself at a local mall even though I accidentally consumed a caffeinated coffee beverage (sometimes I just forget to mention the decaf part when I order!) and set myself up for some exaggerated anxiety in the afternoon. I was a little late to my psychiatrist appointment because I didn't leave soon enough to compensate for traffic but overall the appointment went well and I enjoyed seeing my doctor.

We've decided to give another new mood stabilizer a try although it all depends on my insurance giving approval. I'm a little nervous and afraid of experiencing the jittery symptoms again since this is another atypical and I've tended to have that reaction in the past but I'm willing to try and see and hope for the best.

I've been having challenging days but not terrible days and I'm grateful for the little perks and positive moments throughout. The anxiety has definitely been plaguing me but the DBT skills certainly help and I've been trying to keep busy and keep fighting back.

*sigh*

Feeling fearful anticipating the new medication and potential reactions and considering how I haven't been feeling super great and already wore down by anxiety but I'm also aware that I've been feeling a bit better and am holding on to at least a little bit of hope that I'll find a medication that helps me in some way... all I can do is keep slugging along taking things one day at a time! So many people tell me things will get better and I have a hard time believing it but I believe it enough to keep juggling all these treatments and therapies and coping skills and yadda yadda yadda! Ugh! I want to be confident in my wellbeing!



Also, I heard that Gene Wilder passed. I was sad to hear this but hope he's at peace. The remembrances on the radio have brought bittersweet tears to my eyes multiple times. He was a good soul in my book.

Just Don't Give Up

So I'm getting help from 3 main sources-a psychiatrist trying to help me through medication, other psychiatrists trying to help me through ECT, and a therapist trying to help me through DBT-and now one of my psychiatrists has suggested a different type of brain stimulating therapy instead of ECT called TMS. It's all so confusing and borderline overwhelming but I'm trying to hang tough and keep fighting. I don't know exactly what therapy or combination of therapies is going to help me most but I know that I can't give up and I have to keep trying...

Right now I'm in an awkward place where I'm starting the transition from ECT to TMS and trying to balance DBT and waiting to see how things are going to work out.

I'm scared and nervous and just trying to keep on keeping on.... as long as I don't give up I can't fail, right?

Z is for Zeal #atozchallenge

This post is part of my first year doing the A to Z Challenge and I happen to be writing under the theme Gratitude: The Things That Keep Me Alive. This is a relevant theme for me as I am struggling with postpartum depression, and also have diagnosed anxiety and bipolar II (just to let you know what's going on with me-it might be pertinent as you read the post below). Thank you for stopping by and reading my post!

Z is for zeal because without zeal I would not be beating back my disorders. Without zeal my husband wouldn't support me with such marvelous affection and care and steadfast bravery and dedication. Without zeal my care providers wouldn't continue month after month to keeping trying to conquer this slippery eel of disease that plagues me. Without zeal my family wouldn't have helped my family keep functioning as I went through all those rounds of ECT.

In case you're foggy on the definition, here's what the dictionary has to say about zeal; great energy or enthusiasm in pursuit of a cause of objective.

Now, my husband and I are low on the energy part, and I'm sure my care providers are as well, but somehow the enthusiasm for my cause seems to propel us, day after day in the fight against "Hannah's illness." That means a lot to me. It's hard for me to share my dirty parts, to share this burden with those I love most and don't want to burden, I want to be able to lift them up and cherish and spoil them. I don't want to be the sick one, but right now I am. It's a temporary thing but oh how "temporary" can last longer than you think!

Somehow instead of being a slimy mystery chunk of sludge stuck on the bottom of peoples' shoes weighing them down, I'm a cause. I'm a unifying cause for care and effort and ardor not dismissal or fear or disgust. It's a wondrous thing, a confusing thing, a life saving thing. That is what zeal is capable of.

And so I end this first A to Z Challenge with a little four letter word that packs a lot of punch. With yet another shout out to my wonderful husband and a sweet splash of tears and gratitude for my blogging community and all their support as I slog through a rather messy section in my life's story.

I might not have the same powerful zeal as the hubster everyday, but I'm trying and wonderful people like you help encourage me to keep trying. Thank you for reading. Thank you for supporting me. Thank you for being my friends however many thousands of miles away you might be, your electronic hugs sustain me.

Seems like I should be cracking a bottle of champagne over something to commemorate the conclusion of my first A to Z Challenge, but I'll just say thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

<3

P is for Premera #atozchallenge

This post is part of my first year doing the A to Z Challenge and I happen to be writing under the theme Gratitude: The Things That Keep Me Alive. This is a relevant theme for me as I am struggling with postpartum depression, and also have diagnosed anxiety and bipolar II (just to let you know what's going on with me-it might be pertinent as you read the post below). Thank you for stopping by and reading my post!

P is for Premera, as in the Premera Blue Cross insurance company, because without insurance I'd probably be long gone. Without insurance I wouldn't have been able to afford therapy, medications, inpatient treatment, ECT, or my DBT classes-it's taking a lot of resources to piece me back together! (and by me being able to afford I mean our family that is totally dependent on my husband's income)

Speaking of the hubster, he has a few choice words about Premera as well; from his own fingers, I present the hubster's point of view:

The second hospitalization prompted Premera to take a more active role in Hannah's care. A few days into her second hospitalization, I received a call from a "case manager" at Premera-totally out of the blue. My initial reaction was to be professional, but evasive as I did not want the insurance company to deny or reject any of the claims; however, after a few minutes talking with the case manager I found myself at ease. She understood what was happening and just needed to know more in order to offer solutions. I wasn't sure what she could do, but she did help to find Hannah's DBT program and it was nice to feel like I had a partner on the inside of the game. An ace up my sleeve if needed. For almost two months the case manager would check in about once a week to see how things were going and to see how Hannah was doing. It was nice to receive such a level of care with such concern: it was surprising and refreshing. The system does work when it needs to. Hubster out.

We're even grateful for Premera specifically because they covered my out of hospital birth at the birth center that was such an amazing experience. Not every insurance would *shakes finger*

Anyway, that's sort of a boring topic for P so I scraped around my brain for some other things I'm grateful for that fall under P and came up with persistence, pets, pictures, paperbacks, public libraries, and pretending. Why pretending? Well, "faking it til you make it" never really works for me but pretending I'm okay and stable and normal when I'm out and about in public can actually give me a break from my misery when I'm feeling down and without those breaks from the pain and darkness I might not have made it through.

Flamers might say I'm being dramatic but A) They're flamers, B) They obviously haven't dealt with major depression or these other disorders. I think my fellow survivors will identify with what I've typed here and I'm glad to be a partner (see there, another P!) in the effort toward greater mental health and support by being honest about my experience.

Putting these things out there and being honest can get dramatic because battling back a disease that has convinced you that killing yourself is a viable and preferable option to life, that's a dramatic thing. Don't ever feel like you're being a "drama queen" or "playing it up." Dealing with these types of issues gets dramatic but you're not alone.

In inpatient one of the most important things I learned was that I wasn't alone and that other people experience the same dramatic symptoms as I do. I learned that it wasn't me being a whiny, attention seeker; it was me struggling with a slew of disorders that have brought many good people to their knees.

So persist, my fellow sufferers. Pursue your futures and happiness and health. Plan for foibles along the way and plow through the mess of challenges along the way. Praise yourself and celebrate the everyday victories and know that someone believes in you.

PS Here's a bonus P and (word nerd alert) a fun word:

pro·bi·ty

/ˈprōbədē/

noun formal

the quality of having strong moral principles; honesty and decency

Oh Jolly, One Good Day Before Back to Bad...

Wanted to go to the hospital Friday. Wanted to be in a room that wasn't my own, no laundry, no dishes, no packing, no obligations just me and Baby doing our thing. Unfortunately my bare bones existence consists of tons of supplements, struggling to consume enough nutritious foods, runaway thoughts, anxiety, all over tension, and now even castor oil packs to try and reduce the inflammation of my perpetually plugged duct-not exactly a prime situation for rest and relaxation.

I've never been to the hospital for my mental illness, I imagine it might be more frustrating and complicated than helpful in many ways, yet it remains a hazy last resort I cling to. Deep down I know it's not the respite I need, so I keep at arm's length to protect the possibility, protect the illusion of a safety net.

In reality, it's all on me. The only help to be offered would be drugs pushed down my gullet-and I can't go back to drugs. The side effects and lackluster results aside, the one thing I'm doing "right" is feeding my baby and going on meds may take that away from me. I don't know how I could handle losing the one thing I can do right at the moment. It's a scary proposition.

It all feels like too much to juggle. I can't cope unless things get better and things can't get better without me taking care of all my shit, yet I'm hobbled. No matter what the hubster may say, I don't see any help for me. He's barely keeping it together helping out more with the baby and coping with his work stress, not to mention handling most of the cooking and trying to force feed me. I'm not ill enough to be helped by a medical facility and I'm not well enough to help myself much. One alternative is to hope things get worse, another that they get marginally better so I can fix it myself.

Today is another shitty day. Started out well enough but has devolved to paralyzing tension, more scratching on my forearm, and some wrist banging. As much as I'm afraid of the self harm escalating I'm more afraid of my mood completely bottoming out and having to go on medication. I guess there isn't really an upside at the moment, just fear on top of fear with anxiety and self disgust for flavor.

Yesterday was good enough. Beginning to look like I can't string together good days though. At least my ongoing crazy dreams are entertaining.

Freaky Friday

Started off okay enough this morning despite little sleep and hardly any food I made it to the lactation consultant appointment on time, just a little harried. The appointment went well and while I felt frustrated I didn't feel overwhelmed until later at the grocery store when I was trying to find the stuff she recommended. I couldn't find what I was looking for, I got teary. My appetite was already suppressed but then I could hardly find something I wanted to eat, just walking became difficult. My mood just went downhill from there.

I cried it out this afternoon while taking care of baby and force feeding myself, took a nap after his afternoon feeding and thought I made a bit of a bounce back but that didn't last long. I slid back down again and couldn't eat the food the hubster prepared for dinner. In fact, I could hardly move. It took me several minutes to make a simple adjustment in my chair, my brain-to-body pathways seemed to be filled with molasses. I could barely speak and made no facial expressions, I was frozen. This after more tears and anger and muscle tension.

Once I got moving again I thought I was going to start rebooting and making my way out of the funk but I slid back again after the hubbo talked about "we'll do things differently this time, there are options." I don't want to go on drugs, I don't want us to be dealing with this all on our own and have the hubbo picking up all the slack and us saving face-and it really doesn't seem like we have options. There is no help around the corner, there is no community support, I was suffering and all I could do was sit and suffer. I ended up sobbing more and even flailing and straining, yelling in an angry outburst.

Eventually I settled back into a little paralysis than earlier, then rolled over to feed the baby again. While I fed him I ruminated on something the hubbo said in response to my weakly mumbled "I want to cut myself." He said, "that's a temporary solution, this is temporary, it'll pass." It struck me. They say suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem, but if self harm is a temporary solution for a temporary problem, doesn't that compute? It computed beautifully at the time.

After the feeding I dragged the nearest pair of scissors across my forearm several times. Just deep enough to break the skin and make a burn but not deep enough to bleed. I had begun to feel relief before I even got up to get them, the decision calming me. It would all be better shortly. And it was. After the scratching I felt relieved. I could finally eat, finishing the spaghetti reheat the hubbo presented to me and going for some Ben & Jerry's on top of that. I even drank water. I felt better. Able to smile, move freely, function.

It's hard for me to understand why self harming is such a big deal. I have a feeling it's part of the episode and I may not be in my right mind, but I feel like it helped me a lot tonight. I was ready to lay in bed and marinate in my misery but now I feel like I can get on with life. I hope the feeling sticks around.

Guess we'll see.

Oh The Woes of Withdrawal

I've been tapering off my meds this week and the tell tale signs are making life much less comfortable.

After reading Maisel's "Rethinking Depression" and looking into naturopathy and learning more about the true efficacy of antidepressants in the long term and their effects on mild depression I've been inspired to try a different approach.

Of course, the all-day-long nausea, headaches, and apparently car sickness is taking its toll.

I've yet to actually toss my cookies but it sure feels like I'm toeing the line a lot lately!


Peter Breggin's work has been a large resource for me and correlates well with Maisel's concept of human unhappiness being misconstrued too often as mental disease. I've also drawn encouragement from documentaries about nutrition and the ability of the body to realign itself without the use of psychoactive drugs.

The hubbo is still a bit skeptical and understandably scared about a relapse. We all know that we don't need to revisit the dark places I've been over the past year!

So far I've been slowly accumulating information and learning more to try and cement my intuitive sense that this the right direction. One of the hardest things to comprehend is the bias of the medical community and power of the Big Pharma.

It's hard to accept such a sad reality and part of me would rather believe that antidepressants are the answer than to acknowledge such a cruel practice and dark streak in humanity.

On the other hand, my gut tells me that leaving drugs behind for natural medicine will not only soothe my soul but help me move past this "disease" and get on with a fulfilling life.

I've broken away from consumerism before and the idea that "the latest cure/product/innovation" is the path to happiness-looks like that trend will continue. I am hoping that I will gain confidence and shed this feeling of timid resistance and embarrassment.

As drawn as I am to this new lifestyle I lack confidence in my innate knowledge and feel ashamed as I vary from my family and the path the majority of American society takes. I fear ridicule and I'm afraid to be wrong in the end for fear of unending criticism.

Although, these are mental pathways I can reroute and avoid and I have been working on just such concepts while reading "Natural Psychology!"

Maybe things are all coming together and I just can't see it yet.

Sigh

Funny feeling having my body ready for the day and my heart, mind and soul ready for hibernation and hour-long sobfests.

I've been hanging by a thread waiting for my appointment with a psy specialist and my appointment for tomorrow is cancelled because the ARNP, Psy has the flu. Now I have elevenish days to limp along some more.

1st Attempt @ Video Blogging

Yes. I like laying on the ground while I computer. For that matter, I like laying on the floor period... I'm sure some of you fellow floor-dwellers can understand that preference :o) 

Here's my first video blog EVER. I hope to refine this form of blogging and blog more often with this extra form of blogging expression. Definitely a challenge for me to talk instead of type! We'll see how this goes....

Seattle Shootings

Shootings have been in the news. Last week's "rampage" by Ian Stawicki and just today with a drive-by in South Seattle.

This year's shootings have already added up to more than the total shootings for last year-and it's only June! I don't know what is contributing to the spike in shootings-the economical climate or access to guns but it's a lot different hearing the news when I live so much closer to the "city" than I did before.

A little over a year ago I was living down in the South Sound and Seattle was a faraway metropolis-like Gotham City. I hardly entered the city limits and when I did the swathes of homeless and trolling cops would rankle my nerves. I even witnessed a foot chase where the offender tossed a bag of drugs before the cops tackled him to the ground!

Nowadays I'm in Seattle at least once a week and the fiance even classifies us as living in the "Seattle-Metro area," bah humbug! That said, while the recent events twanged a nerve I don't feel exceedingly scared or upset...

Yes, I'm upset at the life lost but I don't feel upset like the people ranting and raving about gun control in the wake of last week's shootings.

My fiance made an excellent point-gun controls were in place and they didn't stop this guy and they certainly don't stop the thugs from getting their guns. But what wasn't in place was adequate mental health services to manage Stawicki's precarious mental state.

His family commented that Stawicki's rampage was expected. They weren't surprised to hear the news at all! This isn't insensitive, it's honest.

I have been in their position, resigning myself to an unstable mental climate because I didn't have access to adequate care. To me, that is the tragedy behind these deaths.

The gun control crowd can cry for sanctions all they want-but if people are mentally unstable it doesn't matter whether the weapon has a trigger or a handle or a shaft or a knob, they will harm someone else or themselves.

Right now I'm thinking of those families and friends that are coping with the loss of their loved ones and I'm hoping that all those in need of mental health care can find what they need before more tragedy strikes.