Vicarious Therapy

Hollow

2011-02-15T21:44:00.009-08:00

This post will not be eloquent, or elegant. I seem to have lost my ability to write. That is why I have not been posting. I have lost my voice. I cannot seem to "create" anymore, whether it be painting, drawing or writing, my creative self, my artistic spirit seems quite literally to have disappeared.

I am not sure why. I am still severely depressed (and getting worse...again), so I know that affects me, but even when severely depressed I usually am at least a bit creative. Since I had ECT last year, and/or since I began taking Lithium I have lost both my creativity, and have been having great difficulty with my memory.

Anyways, I was just thinking about what to talk about in therapy. It seems like I get to therapy and I have no idea what to say...sort of like not writing here, or not being able to create. I feel like I can't express myself the way I need to. So I was just thinking about what is most important for me to deal with and I made a list.

1. For the last year I have had extreme memory problems. I get lost in my own city, confused when trying to navigate, even in places I am extremely familiar with. I forget appointments, stand up friends, can't remember what I just read, have huge holes in my long term and short term memory and feel so frustrated and stupid I want to scream. Dr. X tells me it is "pseudo-dementia", that if it were real I would not know I was having these difficulties. This idea enrages me. This "fake" dementia...is adding to the already huge ruins of my life.

I feel angry, because my memory problems are REAL. This problem is severely affecting my life. It is also making me feel even more depressed and anxious, I feel stupid and slow. People look at me strangely, judge me, and are annoyed I can't remember things. It is getting worse.

2. My constant negative thoughts, racing and going around and around and around incessantly all day. It is to the point that the only thing I look forward to is taking my sleeping medication so I can stop the thoughts.

3. I am angry with myself for loosing track and control of my life. I Intellectually i think I understand I have a mental illness, but on some, deeper, more important level I think I am in denial that an illness has made me this way. I feel like I did this to myself for some reason. I let myself get off track. If I really tried harder I could get better. If I really wanted it I could change.

4. I am so sick of feeling sick all the time. So tired of how fatigued I feel every single day. I feel so fatigued that I don't want to do anything. I literally have to FORCE myself to do the smallest of tasks. I am so sick of it being so much of an effort to do simple things.

5. "Compartmentalizing"...I feel like I am not a consistent person/being. I feel like I change to be whoever I think people need me to be. It is exhausting. I have no idea WHO I am.

6. I want to die...This seems to be the only consistent thought I have. I know I have talked about having suicidal thoughts before, but I feel intensely uncomfortable discussing the details and the depths to which these thoughts engulf me. I feel like the thoughts (an therefore myself) will be seen as childish, or attention seeking, or that they will be dismissed. I feel ashamed for having the thoughts, but I need someone to tell them to.

7. "I feel hollow", Sylvia path said this in the movie "Sylvia", then went on to explain she felt like she was a shell and there was a huge emptiness within. I feel exactly like that, It is even worse since ECT/and or Lithium. My creative spirit, my desire, my abilities, my being has disappeared.

It feels like dying is the only way all these problems will disappear. I see no way out.

Five Long Years

2010-12-15T19:36:00.002-08:00

Mom, I miss you more than you can imagine. I wish it could have been me.

ECT I: Making the Decision

2010-07-11T13:26:00.009-07:00

One thing I have really wanted to post about is my experiences, both positive and negative, with the electroconvulsive therapy treatments (ECT) I received in December and January. I want to write about my experiences with ECT, but I do not want what I write to negatively impact someone else's decision to consider ECT if they are in need of help.

If you are trying to make the decision to have, or not have ECT, please know that my story is just one of many. On top of that, despite some of my negative experiences, I would do it again, because something about the ECT helped me on some level. (I will try to explain that later in another post)

As a person who has had to make the decision, my advice about deciding on whether to have ECT or not, would be to approach a medical professional, a psychiatrist if possible, who you trust and ask them to help you wade through the information and make an informed choice.

For me, choosing to have ECT was one of the most difficult decisions I ever had to make. It is my brain, and even though I hate my depression and anxiety, it's the only brain I have...and if I was to feel better I wanted to know it would be intact after the treatments.

My choice was made even more difficult by how little information I could find that felt like a trustworthy and balanced perspective about the treatments, and potential gains or losses, and/or side effects.

At the hospital, all the information I was given felt like propaganda. The benefits were highlighted over and over again, but the potential side effects were glossed over, diminished, and when I asked about them, pretty much dismissed. Even after I had the treatments, I felt like my side effects were constantly dismissed.

(Note: My own pdoc expressed that I was having the side effect difficulties I was expressing to the other Drs) It was incredibly important that I knew he could see what was happening, because I already felt like I was losing my mind. I did not need the psychiatrists insinuating that I was imagining my ECT side effects. I found the dismissal of my experiences intensely frustrating.

Before I had ECT I met with the Psychiatrist who was to oversee/perform my treatments. We talked. I asked her about potential side effects, commenting that I had read several accounts of ECT and many people had stated they had longterm, and sometimes severe memory problems. The Dr looked at me and suggested that(paraphrase "...the information I read was biased...look at who is writing these articles".

Inside my head I thought...but I am one of those people; a person with a mental illness. I recognize that our psychiatric illnesses can sometimes interfere with our perception of reality, but I am pretty certain my opinions and experiences cannot all be tossed aside as though they were the rantings of a lunatic.

I do have some valid opinions of my experiences, and I do believe I am capable of writing a opinion piece that tells my truth about an experience. I also understand that my truth is not always generalizable to other people. Likewise other people's experiences are not always generalizable to me. The fact remains though, just because someone is ill, does not mean they have no important information to share.

To tell you the truth, a big part of me distrusts pharmaceutical companies, and research organizations, more than I distrust the accounts of people who have actually been through the experiences. There is so little really known about the human brain, so much money involved in drug and treatment research, and so many reasons for an organization to find a positive outcome, that I am not sure how unbiased any medication or treatment research is.

I am not saying I would blindly follow medical advice from someone writing on the internet, but I do read what others have to say, and I would take that information to a medical doctor I trusted and ask them to help me make an informed decision.

In the end, with regards to my ECT treatments I found as much out as I could about the procedure and then I asked my psychiatrist, Dr. X, to share his opinion and information about ECT. I trust him completely. With his help, I made the best decision I could, based on the information available at the time.

Honestly, even though I had, and continue to have, some difficulties due to my ECT treatments, I would have ECT again. I was going to kill myself when I went in for the treaments. I have never been that close to acting on my thoughts. I think the ECT lifted my mood enough for me to work my way out of that hell and into some state of purgatory. So yes, I would do it again.

Learning to Read

2010-06-12T01:24:00.000-07:00

I just finished reading a book. You might think, "so what". However, to me it was one of my most important achievements. I have not been able to read a book for years.

I do not know what happened to cause me to lose my ability to read a book. It may be that I was so sick I could not read. Whatever the case, I went from someone who had 5 or 6 books going at a time, to someone who could not follow a storyline. After trying many, many times and failing I simply gave up.

A few months ago, a friend of mine recently rediscovered her love of reading. I marvelled at all she read and what she was reading. I felt an intense longing to read again. It was like a fire was lit beneath me. I saw possibility.

Then a couple weeks ago my boyfriend and I were talking about my difficulty reading and he said, "Just start to read and keep reading even if you aren't following what is happening. Read the same sentence over and over if you have to, but keep going. Get into the habit of reading"

So I chose a simple book, a kids book, and I started to read. At first it was such a struggle. Even once I got going I kept mixing up the characters and the plot lines. I would suddenly be reminded of a character I had forgotten all about, or become confused by why something was happening the way it was.

Despite a bit of frustration at how much trouble I was having, I kept trying. Eventually I started to remember, to follow...to enjoy, what I was reading.

I think a few things were key to my succeeding this time:

My depression is not as bad as it has been and my medication has slowed the constant barrage of bad thoughts so I have room left in my brain to focus and think about something else,
I purposefully chose a very simple book. In fact, I choose a book geared towards adolescents,
I choose a book with a subject that interested me,
I made reading a priority, so it trumped my housework, or other duties in terms of importance,
I ensured I set time up to read right before I went to bed,
The times I started procrastinating I told myself to just go pick up the book and read for 5 minutes. Usually I would intend to read for 5 and still be reading 1/2 hr later.

I feel so encouraged by my ability to read this book. I feel like it is possible to read books again. Honestly, I was so discouraged before that I thought I would never be able to read books again.

Next, I am going to read my favorite book from when I was in grade 3 or 4 next. I figure it will be manageable, and it will bring back some good memories...and we all need more of those.

Empty

2010-06-08T10:29:00.003-07:00

Over the past few weeks my mood does not seem as bad as it has been. The cacophony of thoughts in my head has slowed markedly. Maybe a bit too slow, too flat, too apathetic. I am completely uninspired and unmotivated. I feel so much fatigue I feel physically sick.

It is like my being, especially my creative being, has simply shut itself down. I have even tried to go to the studio a couple times, but there is no art inside my brain; no ideas, no creativity, and no desire to create anything.

I am grateful that the awful thoughts, repetitive music, all the thoughts and plans for suicide have left me, but it feels like when the bad thoughts disintegrated they left my brain empty.

The past couple weeks I have been trying to reassure myself that my creative being will return. I keep telling myself this emptiness is like a new canvas, the painting will come when I am ready.

My body does not believe this and I have been having really bad anxiety attacks everyday. I do not know why as there is nothing obvious triggering me. The only thing I can think of is that I am afraid of my new way of being. Or maybe I am scared OF being? Sometimes I feel like it would be so much better if all this would just end.

There is No Hope

2010-05-19T18:19:00.005-07:00

I feel physically sick. I am so fatigued I feel nauseous. I have no energy. No motivation. No ability to get myself to do anything. All I want to do is sleep. I am so depressed I can't even do that.

So I stare at the ceiling thinking I can't take this anymore. I can't live like this anymore. I cannot survive this depression anymore. The life I have is not worth all this pain.

I have to go visit my family in a few days. I am dreading it. They all want me to be happy. I want to be happy, but the energy it takes to be who they need me to be completely overwhelms me.

I wish I would die. Finally this would all be over.

What do you do if nothing helps your depression? How do you keep going? How do you survive?

Why Can't I Get Motivated

2010-05-13T19:32:00.005-07:00

I want to go kayaking; slip through the ocean quietly and peacefully. I want to go camping. Pitch a tent, build a big fire, stare at the stars and listen to nature's peacefulness. I want to go for a bike ride. I want to go for a hike. I want to paint three paintings. I see them in my mind. I need to get them out of me.

I sit and stare at the wall. I want o change. Really I do. I want to be different. I want to DO things. I want to be active. I want to be busy.

The dishes pile up, and up and up. The laundry pile gets bigger and bigger and bigger. I feel completely overwhelmed by just the ordinary responsibilities of life. I feel overwhelmed even though I barely do anything.

I get up out of bed. I walk the dog. These are the two consistent things I manage to do.

Mostly, I feel suffocated by my existence. I feel ashamed for how little effort I put into helping myself get better. I feel like I waste Dr. X's time, because I know what I need to do. I need to DO. I need to get active. I need to participate in life. I need to work, to contribute.

Why then, do I just sit there staring at the wall for hours on end wishing my life would change?

Things that Make Me Feel Joy..

2010-05-04T10:33:00.001-07:00

I search. that is what I do, and have always done. I search for meaning, for truth, for love, for joy, for hope and promise, and for understanding. Today I was (re)searching volunteering, or getting involved with, a church in my city whose members do absolutely incredible things for other people.

This church does a lot of work with and for people who have been pushed aside and seemingly discarded by a society that has the means to care for them, but seems to choose not to. They work for addicts, and street people, for those with mental illnesses and those who need more support than they receive through government programs.

As I was reading their website I came upon a list of their values. I won't write them all, but as I read this one I laughed (gleefully) at how beautiful it was:

" We value outrageous generosity".

Wow! I like that.

"O"!!!

2010-04-28T21:22:00.010-07:00

"What is the message you have for me?" I asked this out loud, as I watched two crows fly over me. They fluttered to a landing spot directly in front of me; their glossy iridescent blue/black feathers shining brilliantly in the sun. As I stood there it seemed their message was to enjoy the company of others. Hmmm...

Later during this day a third crow flew down and landed in front of me. I asked again, "What message do you have for me?" He turned to me with an "O" in his beak...(maybe a Cheerio?), but an "O" nonetheless .

"O", I pondered. What does that mean?

I am making an effort to see differently than I have seen before. To listen to the messages. To see myself as part of the bigger picture.

That night I found myself still wide awake at 2:00am. For a week I had been eating a 1/4-1/3 of a marijuana cookie before bed to see if it would help me sleep. That night I had no cookie...and sleep was seemingly impossible.

I generally do not use pot. I had a couple bad experiences with it when I was younger...one that ended in my breaking my leg while fleeing pot induced "hallucinations"?/"visions". I was afraid to try it again, but in cookie form, and in small amounts I really am finding it helps my sleep both in terms of how long I stay asleep and how restful my sleep feels.

So, at 2:00am, laying in bed, with no sleep to be found I was feeling a bit desperate...so I ended up taking a BIG toke off a friends joint. Then I crawled into bed to try again.

As I lay there I began to feel like my throat was swelling up. I was finding it increasingly difficult to breathe. It seemed to be getting worse. I tried to get out of bed, but I couldn't move. It was like I was paralysed.

I began having "visions". Not hallucinations, but nightmare like thoughts...you know how while you are having a nightmare it seems real? Like that. I was being encased in a net like object? (or being?) that looked like thick mohair-like gray and black wool. It was holding me down on the bed.

I tried to call out to my boyfriend again and again, but no sound would come out of my mouth. I was unable to get up and help myself, my throat was swelling so much I was suffocating and I could not call for help.

My mind decided I was about to die. (REALLY!)...my brain thought this was the case.

I started to panic, but suddenly my brain said to me, "Death is inevitable. You have no choice. You wanted to die before. Let it go." Suddenly, I became so relaxed. I stopped worrying, let myself "die" . I felt incredible.

As I let go, stopped panicking, accepted my fate and my situation I felt myself able to breathe again. Ohhhhhhh...!

Stop fighting. Stop struggling. Accept my fate. Perhaps, this is the way; the path I need to follow. It seems so clear now that this is what the crow meant when it brought me the "O".

Lithium

2010-04-26T21:11:00.010-07:00

The types of thoughts, and manner of thoughts I was having when I wrote the post, ""How are you? "I'm Okay."" seem to have slowed right down since I increased my Lithium dosage.

A few weeks ago I was having extremely rapid suicidal thoughts, mixed with a rapid self deprecating/loathing "voice" inside my head telling me how awful I was, and how my boyfriend was trying to leave me, and how I should just end it all. The best way I could describe my mind at the time, with it's "machine gun" like thoughts, is to say it was "manically" depressed.

Like the referenced post I had a piece of music relentlessly, rapidly and repeatedly playing over and over in my head. My thoughts were so distressing and so unforgiving I really wanted to just remove my brain from my head. I thought I was really going mad, so I increased my mood stabilizer: Lithium.

Almost immediately after increasing the Lithium I felt some relief. A few weeks later I still feel depressed, but I am having more moments of relief and the bad "noises" in my head have slowed right down. With the demise of all that negative energy I feel a sense of hope again. I feel like maybe I can feel better. This is a huge relief. Thank you god...whoever you are.

"Communication Breakdown"

2010-04-22T16:30:00.003-07:00

On my way to my therapy session today I was thinking about how difficult is to be completely forthright, open, and honest with someone else, even my psychiatrist. I do not mean that it is difficult to try to tell the truth, or to try to open up. I believe I am as open/honest as I can be during each therapy session. I mean how difficult it is to be ACTUALLY completely honest with someone else, or even with myself for that matter.

Today I went in thinking I am going to completely let my guard down, and try to tell Dr. X. some of the things I have been deeply ashamed about doing, about allowing to continue, and about feeling. When I tried to get all the feelings and thoughts out in the open, they just sounded stupid as I heard them come out of my mouth.

Maybe it wasn't that the thoughts sounded stupid, rather that I sounded stupid for not valuing myself enough to put an end to some of the issues I am struggling with. Also, I felt really awkward, because as I blurted out what I needed to say it felt like what I was talking about, (what seemed so shameful), was no big deal. Why then was I so stressed out about what I wanted to say? I guess that "nothing" still seemed/seems, really painful to me.

I do not want to write the details about what is going on, because I need time to figure out my own perspective. It's complicated. It's about my relationship with my boyfriend, our difficulties communicating, the impact both of our mental illnesses have on each of our abilities and desires to communicate in a way that is meaningful to each of us.

It's about how our past experiences with trauma, physical, mental and sexual abuse, depression, drug abuse, and mental illnesses impact and affect our current lives, the way we think, the way we read and translate other people's body language, and how we interpret the actual words coming out of our partner's mouth.

Although I have always recognized the impact all the above have on communication, in my relationship now I am really becoming even more aware how even a simple sentence can mean so many different things depending on the context, the current state of the relationship between speaker and listener, the time of day, previous conversations, mood states, medication, lack of medication, sleep...and the list goes on...

Right now I am hoping I can improve my ability to communicate effectively. Maybe that will help both of us.

Loss and Loneliness

2010-04-15T19:27:00.007-07:00

These past few months I have really been feeling an increasingly intense sense of loss; frustration, irritability, anger, sadness, loneliness, aloneness, abandonment, fear, terror, hopelessness...

The most important thing to me, my entire life, has been my family. I would do anything for anyone in my family. I feel my connection to family has slipped away, and almost disappeared, since my Mom died. The disconnection began before she died. As my mental health deteriorated, and hope of wellness began disappearing, my family started distancing themselves from me. In the past year my sisters have really pulled away, and my Dad has taken on a detached attitude...not replying to my e-mails, or making sure our calls are short.

I understand why. I get that it is overwhelming to be around me when I do not feel all up and bubbly. I just really miss my family connection. I miss being a part of the family like I used to be.

I miss me. So far I have lost my young and middle adult years to this illness. Looking forward all I see is being old and even crazier. The future seems unbearable.

Believe it or not, before I became ill I was a person people wanted to be around. I was a bit wild, full of life, ready for love, open to new things, was passionate, compassionate, (I think and hope) kind and caring. I was active, always had tons of energy, was inquisitive, questioning...though often a bit naive and gullible...mostly because I didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings by questioning their motives.

I loved all kinds of music, loved to dance, go to concerts, loved school and lectures, was passionate about learning, read everything I saw, swam like a fish, sang like a manatee, rode my bike everywhere, campsites were my favourite resorts. I really loved to canoe, hike, and rollerblade. I felt one with nature, one with the world, the universe, my friends, my family. Basically I absolutely, positively and actively LOVED LIFE and all it had to offer.

Now, today, this year and last, and the year before that, and the year before that, and the year before that...etc., etc. , I feel disconnected, disaffected, disillusioned, dismissed...pretty much destroyed.

All day I felt like painting a big banner that says, "I HAD POTENTIAL..." and unravel it as I hang myself from the bridge. I feel like because I am mentally ill and not "recovering" like everyone else seems to, like all the literature and studies say I should, like my family expects me to, I am blamed, or dismissed, or left to fend for myself. It is as if no one knows, cares or understands I need love, care, help. I feel really really really hopeless and alone.

Do You Ever Feel...???

2010-04-13T17:20:00.010-07:00

(Please note: I the following post I use the words, "crazy, insane, mad etc. loosely in describing only myself. I in no way intend, or even ever feel, that others having similar symptoms are anything but beautiful, though at times tragic), examples of the breadth of human experience). I'm just exhausted and weirded out and scared, and probably bitter and angry, about my own experience)

Do you ever feel like it doesn't really matter how you feel, because you are fucking insane, and everyone thinks you are crazy, so no one "really" listens anyways? And even if they did, the way you are would make absolutely no more sense to them than it does to you?

I feel like I am losing touch with reality. Yet, how can I be losing touch with reality if I know I am losing touch with reality? I am seeing more and more things around me, and inside me that are passing me some kind of meaning filled message/s...(though can't quite figure out the message/s...), that are making me feel like I am being sent messages, or things are showing themselves to me in order that I find some deep meaning in their presence.

(Eg., mood switching up after going to the front of the church and praying every night, mystical animals (crows) appearing when I need them to appear, pictures of wolves falling off my bookshelves, another wolf appearing on a torn out page of a children's book, right in front of me on the sidewalk, and then the terrifying wolves showing up in my nightmare, then the number 3: three pictures, the 3 nightmares, each nightmare made up of 3 parts)

Thing is, although my mind really does believe this "messages are being passed to me" idea pretty deeply...I can also see that maybe I'm crazier than I thought or something is happening whereby things just "happen", or "show up" at truly random times and places and for some reason my brain is seeing all these things as signs or patterns of meaning that I am MEANT to see??? God help me...

Since I got out of the hospital I have been severely depressed, almost more severely than when I went into the hospital...except last Wed evening my mood started to rise and I had a really great week. All week the rapid onslaught of negative and suicidal thoughts completely stopped, and I felt hope again. I felt like I was cared for, had tons more energy, felt talkative and social. I pretty much felt like I was on the mend. In fact, I felt sure I was becoming well.

...Until Sunday at 5pm.

You read that correctly.

Somewhere around 5pm on Sunday the voice inside my head returned with no warning and no reason behind it returning. {note: Although for the two nights prior, I had really two really bad nightmares, the likes of which I haven't had for a long time (and last night my wolf returned to me in another nightmare}

Just as I was entering the 5 rd bridge the voice/thought, (It has no sound...so it is not really a "voice", but it seems external), said to me:

"You have failed everyone. You have disappointed your dad so much, what a waste of life you are". And I started to cry.

Ever since then the voice has been going on and on about every bad thing I do, or mistake I make, how everyone really is sick of me, how I am not really loved by my boyfriend, how he is pulling away from me, how I have disappointed him and destroyed our relationship, etc.,

Then the voice switches to telling me how fucked up and wrong my thinking is, and how I am just imagining all this stuff and if I would just stop thinking it would all go away...but either way the voice goes on and on and on...maybe it is two voices?? I don't know anymore what is real, and what is my brain having crazy talk.

These thoughts/voices intensify and speed up or slow down. I believe they are magnified when my anxiety gets worse...as I have been having really bad anxiety/panic attacks. It may be though that the voices/thoughts are causing the anxiety as they begin to race faster and faster, and seem to be pushing me to change or die...whichever.

Either way there is an OCD like quality to them...including having a song I have recently listened to play relentlessly over and over and over in my head, as a torturous accompaniment to the thoughts that continue, and often race, faster and faster, harder and harder, over, and over and over, and over. Unstoppable. Unrelenting.

Sometimes I get so much "bad energy" inside me that the voice starts to speed up and it talks at me, over and over and over, at mach speed; incessant, punishing, shame inducing, and guilt producing. Often the voice has suicidal plots and plans, and reasons to die . Lately this is much much worse than any time I can remember before. It is like the thoughts are trying to push me.

If I wasn't crazy before...something inside me is aware I am crazier now. This is not right. I can see I am having strange thoughts...but my brain cannot seem to stop thinking (and while I am having them), believing these thoughts. Please, help me!!! Am I completely losing my mind?

"How Are You"? "I'm Okay."

2010-03-19T10:47:00.008-07:00

I haven't really written for a long while. and for days now I have been wanting to write about this...and then in my last post I saw the last commenter comment about a similar dynamic when people ask how you are. So I am going to let it out...

It makes me crazy'(er) that I can never be me with anyone. When my sisters or stepmom, or dad call they sometimes ask how am. Sometimes they avoid the topic altogether. My usual response is either, "I'm okay", or "I'm not feeling so great". If I say the latter the topic changes so fast to something else that it is obvious the question was just a polite conversation opener.

My sisters and family are good, loving people...It must be the chronicity of my illness, the awful person it makes me become, and the neediness of myself that has them pull away from me so much.

A couple times I have tried to express how I need help because x, y, z is happening; i.e. I have been honest about how depressed I feel. The topic changes, or the person tries to get off the phone as fast as possible...and the stops calling or e-mailing completely to protect themselves.

What I most often want to write when they ask how I am , and I am unwell, is: " I am feeling really scared and depressed. I cannot stop thinking about suicide. The noise in my head, telling me to kill myself, telling why it is the best thing, planning how to do it, etc., won't stop. I feel like nobody loves "me".

They love the "me" who laughs and is funny and upbeat...that is part of me, but often that part of me comes out when I am trying to help others feel okay around me, or if I am trying to not act as crazy as I feel. When I want to be cared for, or loved, I try really hard to suppress, or minimize all the things about me that others either cannot handle, or understand, or will take as proof that for their well-being, they should get me out of their lives...NOW.

I understand why this happens. It would be hard to have a sister/daughter like me. I understand, but it hurts me so much that my family doesn't try to help me, or somehow let me know I can call them if I need help. I feel so intensely alone.

Even with my pdoc I am afraid if I tell him what I really feel he will think I am overstating, or that I am crazier than I am. I often leave his office thinking God I must drive him crazy. I try to be/say/express less suicidal thoughts/ideas/plans than I really have, or am, or really feel. I tell him I have the thoughts, but I don't think I have been able to express their relentlessness inside my brain; the way, over, and over and over, and over, the thoughts speed through my head, telling me to:

"...wrap a rope around my neck, wrap a rope around my neck, do it, do it, do it, do it do it...shoot yourself, kill yourself, hire someone to kill you, no one loves you, you are alone, completely alone, lonely, this depression just keeps getting worse, and the worse it gets the more people move away from you..."

"...your family doesn't want you anymore, they only want you when you are okay, they don't want to hear about how you need help, they want you to just go away. So my brain says to me, over and over, "...do it, do it, do it, hang yourself, wrap a rope around your neck, etc., etc." All the while, that Violent Femmes Song, "Why Can't I Get Just One Kiss?" is playing rapidly. obssessively, over and over inside my brain...like I can't get away from the song, or the thoughts.

I can't tell anyone these things. I even don't want to write them here, because all I want is to get them out of my head. I am venting; trying to help myself find some relief.

So I answer, "fine, been feeling a bit down, but that's okay"...WTF!!! "...that's okay"?."...a bit down"???? This will never end...end it.

Is it the ECT? The anesthetic? My Meds? A Natural Shift?..

2010-02-15T21:01:00.005-08:00

I just read this article about Ketamine and how it can almost instantaneously help treatment resistant depression. I wonder if they use that as part of the ECT aenesthetic?...maybe that is why I feel so good?

Well...I still awake, not dumped afterall and high as a kite...

I am wired for sound, super excited to be alive, enjoying my life, feeling like the old me is returning full steam ahead. The excited, enthusiastic, loving, busy, energetic, action oriented, unstoppable me is back. and I am loving every second of it.

I can see I may be a bit too high (like the not sleeping at all may be a bit of a problem). I am switching from task, to task, to task...having a hard time keeping focused on one thing. Everything seems so important!!! I'm also feeling a sense of my self racing...both my mind/spirit and my physical being.

I HAD to find some sedatives last night and the two nights before (I found some left over Valium), because I was so hyper I felt panicky. The Valium didn't seem to do anything at all for my hyperness...so I had a couple stiff drinks tonight. That didn't help much (if at all) either...so maybe I will take more sleep meds to try to slow myself down. I'm also a bit too quick to anger/lash out.

Overall though, I just feel like my old self...happy, busy, excited to be alive, creative, thrilled with life, full of ideas, ready for action, enthusiastic and full of love and appreciation for everything and everyone...that old self that I love and have missed so much.

It seems I have not been "dumped" after all. I think maybe I was not thinking clearly yesterday. I can see I may have been a bit to "On", "pushy", and dare I say..."demanding", or at the very least full of extraordinarily high expectations. My sweetheart is really slipping into a deep depression right now and I think I need to try harder to step back, slow down and let him choose a pace that works for him and helps him keep himself stable.

It is hard to explain what I feel. I have not had the pleasure of feeling this way for any decent period of time, for so long; of experiencing the self I like, love, adore... for so many years...that I feel "obliged" to wring every last drop of joy out of my brain...to soak it up, to slather myself in all I love and need and want. I feel I need to do everything and anything I want to do, and feel like doing...while I have the capacity to enjoy my life and all it has to offer as much as I am right now.

Look out world...are you ready for me???

I can't sleep...it's almost 4:30am!!

2010-02-15T04:20:00.002-08:00

My day was weird...

It's Valentines Day and I think I have been dumped, without actually being dumped. Let go with no mention of a breakup. Men confuse me.

Oh The Swings in These Things...

2010-02-13T23:55:00.005-08:00

Wow...an about face took place yesterday. I woke up feeling revitalized, alive, joyous, on, high, exhalted, creative, beautiful, sexy, talented...all those things I feel so rarely. I feel, and have felt the same high all day today...and wow have I got tons done...cleaning, driving all over the city doing all kinds of chores, helping others, 3 huge and long and beautiful walks in the pouring rain with my dog, and I painted all evening...it was so great.

Here are two paintings I finished last night (one was part done, the other I had barely started before last night)...I painted for 6-7 hours straight..dancing singing, painting...loving my life in these moments...ahhhh!!!

Each of them are 24" X 24", acrylic on canvas...and the canvases have a 1.5" profile...They look better in real life, but I will share anyways. I felt so good this past two days that (dare I say this???)...I actually felt that with more practice and experience I could be good at this!!

Wow...I feel great!! I have decided that maybe I will continue ECT, because I have not had as many good days in the last 9 years as I have had in the last 3 months...sure I'm still depressed, but at least I am periodically getting some really good relief.

Raging Depression

2010-02-10T16:30:00.006-08:00

I feel so messed up right now I feel like I cannot even write. I was about to delete my blog, when I read the last comment, by Chris, on my last post. One of the big reasons I wanted to write this blog in the first place was to reach out to people who are struggling with mental illness, and in particular, depression.

I do not know what is happenening to me, but I am not doing well. I have been going for ECT weekly, but nothing good is coming of it. The past week and a half, (maybe more), all I have felt is RAGE. I feel so angry inside I feel like I am going to blow up; explode! There is so much bad energy in me right now. I do not understand what is happening to me. I am both scared and I have had it. I can't take life anymore.

When I went for ECT on Monday, I tried to express that I wasn't doing well, and the Dr./nurses asked me if I had changed my medicine. I stopped taking the high dose of dexedrine because I am wondering if it is making me crazy. They didn't even listen to me...and scoffed at my complaints about anger/rage...saying I was feeling that because of medication withdrawal.

If they had listened to me they would have understood that I had been feeling enraged for days/week before I decided to stop the amphetimines. I stopped them BECAUSE I was feeling bad...I didn't feel bad because I stopped them. I'm still angry, irritated, flustered, frustrated, cranky, and so depressed I don't know how to keep trying. I want to go...

My Heart Feels Broken...

2010-02-03T22:36:00.002-08:00

...in so many ways.

I feel so desperately and severely depressed today. I could feel the depression returning on Monday, despite having ECT Monday morning. I felt cranky, and irritable, frustrated, flustered and I found myself swearing like a sailor all day. My memory is so brutally bad. I am forgetting things, mixing things up, times up, schedules up, losing things, confused about important things and basically feel mixed-up and lost. I feel like my hope has disappeared.

All day, all I wanted was to die. Please god let me go. I cannot take this anymore. I thought ECT was helping me heal...but I think my last commenter may be closer to the truth...it may have been the support and friendly gestures from other patients that helped me feel better. For various reasons...my external supports are very low right now.

I wanted so badly to call one of my family members for help today because I cannot stop dreaming, wishing, hoping I will die. Problem is...I just finished telling my family how much better I felt, and all of them are thrilled. My Dad, who never asks me how I am, or lets me know he's on my side, has been phoning me to see that I`m well. He told me he was so happy to hear I was better the other day. He said he thought I would never be well. My stepmom said she didn`t think I would survive this depression much longer...She is right. How do I call and ask for support, when everyone wants so badly for me to be well? How can I let everyone down again? I can't.

On top of all this my dog has been really sick. I don`t really know what happened, but while I was in the hospital, he was at my sister's. At some point my sister said he beat her dog up, and wouldn't stop. This sounds exactly "UNLIKE" my dog. I have never seen him bite another dog, ever! He is usually the friendliest and gentlest dog in any group. I hope this misbehaviour was a one off type of behaviour. It scares me that he behaved that way.

I feel awful that he behaved like that...but the vet that looked at him at the time did nothing for him...saying he was okay and now he is very, very sick....and covered in many, many, many puncture/bite marks many of which had become infected. The other day he got a fever, and twice could not lift himself into my car's back seat. When I lifted him in, he stood up briefly and then collapsed onto his side. I raced to the nearest vet and he was hospitalized; where he was rehydrated with intravenous liquids and given blood tests, and antibiotics, and 2 days and almost $800.00 later he was sent home with me, where many of his bites continue to be, or become, infected.

Then there is my relationship. I know...with all my problems...it has probably been hard for my boyfriend, but I try really hard to be there for him too. I think my being sick is too much for him. I woke the night before last night at 5am...and he was gone...no note, no phone call. Yesterday he said he told me, but my memory is so bad...I do not remember at all.

He e-mailed me the next day and said he got really anxious and just needed to get outside and walk, and walk, and walk. I asked him if we were okay, and he says yes...but I sense I am being dumped and he's trying to be nice about it.

I hate weird games, and excuses...they only work to make me imagine the worst, and imagine the worst is my fault...like I'm too crazy for him, too depressed, too broken. If it really was anxiety, just talk with me about it...we talk about that kind of stuff all the time. We were fine until I actually let him know how depressed I really am and he saw how sad I was. I guess on some level I have been dishonest with him about how I am.

I did tell him I was severely depressed for a long time, but people are confused by me, because when I am with people I work hard to put on a face, to interact, to make an effort. Often when other people are around me it helps my mood lift briefly. Anyways, my heart feels broken. I really love my boyfriend. I want so badly for this to work out, but I sense he has had enough.

I hurt so much right now. I feel back where I started before the hospital, only worse. There is something worse about having felt well for such a brief period, only for it to slip away so rapidly. I feel even more hopeless now than I did before I tried all the ECT, and the hospital.

Becoming Me Again...and then losing myself all over again...

2010-02-02T16:30:00.000-08:00

These beginning statments were written Jan. 28, 2010:
I cannot think of any other way to describe the transformation of my "self" that has taken place over the past 7 weeks. Over the past two or three weeks I have witnessed my rebirth.

Until the past three weeks I believed I was gone forever. I believed my depression had taken me over, taken me away, destroyed my self. I was giving up. My hope had disappeared. I never believed I would find hope again. I was wrong. There is hope. It is possible for me to feel better. There is a chance I will become well again. Thank God!!!!

I have been gone for a long while. I went to the hospital the first week of January, because I could not manage my depression anymore. I asked to have Electroconvulsive therapy again (ECT) to try to lift my mood a bit. I was hospitalized for it, because I did not have anyone to help me do it as an outpatient. I really believe I needed to be in the hospital, and that the stay helped me too.

First, in the hospital I met so many wonderful people. My first two roommates were sent to me by God, I am sure. They helped me find so much hope in such a difficult circumstances. It is really incredible what the love and care of another human being can do for another person's soul. Second, in the hospital I could let go of my responsibilities and just do things for me. I have a hard time taking care of "me" in the outside world. I don't know how to just be. I am always so worried about everything. I can't seem to just let go anymore, and just be. Something about being in the hospital gave me the "permission" I needed to just be. That seemed to help me.

The afternoon I wrote the above, for the first time in years I actually felt like the real me, the happy me, the enthusiastic, happy to be alive me, for more than 2 or 3 days at a time. As I wrote about my "rebirth, I felt I was truly at the beginning of my rebirth. Then the last few days happened....I have not felt like that at all.

I feel myself sinking again. Even after ECT (maintenance ECT) yesterday a.m. I did not seem to feel any better. Today I feel so depressed again, I am afraid I am slipping back into my old patterns. I feel no hope. I feel alone. I feel like a burden. I feel hard to be around. I feel overwhelmed and overwhelming. I feel like I am sinking back into the black pit and sinkhole from which, only a few days ago, I believed I had escaped.

I am so scared my "rebirth", was just a blip; scared I am returning from whence I came. I cannot manage that idea.

I Can't Sleep

2010-01-24T03:35:00.001-08:00

Argh...I have so much energy running through my brain that I cannot sleep...in fact worse...I am WIDE WIDE awake. I went to bed at 11pm and I thought I was really exhausted. I seemed to fall sleep for a while, but then started getting restless for about 45 minutes, so got up for a while. When I looked at the clock to see what time it was when I got out of bed it was only 12:10 which means I slept a grand total of 25 minutes.

I look exhausted, with huge bags under my eyes, but I feel wired for sound; not even a tiny bit tired. I'm going to try to sleep again now...drank some warm milk and am comfy, cozy. I really hope the ECT isn't triggering this insomnia...I don't do well with less than 8hrs sleep/night.

wow

2010-01-24T01:07:00.002-08:00

I guess I should explain what happened with my boyfriend situation and why I would return to him after how he acted (see a couple posts ago).

First, I really care about him. I'd say I love him. He is not without his faults (as am I), but so much of him is full of love, affection and kindness. He is most often, thoughtful and fun to be around....but he has a mental illness too (Bipolar), and while his medications seem to keep his symptoms in check MOST of the time, external stress/stressors can trigger his symptoms and make his behaviour unpredictable, strange, or unexpected.

While I do not have bipolar disorder, I do have bipolarlike cycling to my mood, and like my boyfriend stress triggers unexpected behaviour sometimes. I recognize his behaviour the other night was unacceptable, and I do not condone, and will not accept being treated that way. However, I also feel intense love and compassion for him given the pressures he is trying to manage right now. We have talked very openly about his actions and what is worrying him/triggering him.

I have been in the hospital, and away from him him for a very extended period (almost 50 days). Prior to my hospitalization he and I spent almost all our time together. For numerous reasons he really needs consistent support and loving, caring role models around him as much as possible. He currently lives in a supportive housing project, with a beautiful family who treat him like a family member. Unfortunately, they have decided to go their seperate ways and stop doing some of the charity work they have been involved in. This means my boyfriends needs to find new, safe, clean and drug free housing that is away from neighbourhoods known for having drug problems.

Finally, after numerous nattering "arguments" about the "wrong" things...my boyfriend blurted out that he desperately misses me and is finding it really hard to be alone while at the same time being scared about where he will end up living. So tonight we sat down and had a heart to heart talk about how we are going to help him. No matter what, he will not end up on the streets. I am not ready to move in with a man, but he can always stay with me until we find him a good place to live. I think that made him feel better.

I know some people wonder why I would open my arms to him again after some of the things he said to me. I do so because I love him, but also because I see we are able to talk about these mistakes and work through them. I do so because some of the triggers can be attributed to my not being honest with him. I thought I was protecting him by not telling him how depressed and suicidal I had been feeling for so long. Instead, my dishonesty only made the truth harder to handle. This has been a good lesson for me.

Last, but not least...I can see some of his behaviour is being affected, impacted, and/or caused by his mental illness symptoms. He is willing to work on those symptoms. He has also committed to me that he will come with me to some of my psychiatric therapy sessions so we can work on our relationship.

I personally experience difficulty controlling some of my behaviour, especially in situations where I am under extreme pressure, or stress, or if I am intensely anxious. If it were me who had lost my composure and said things, and behaved in ways that were hurtful to someone, and if I felt my symptoms had made a difficult situation worse, I hope and pray my boyfriend, or friend would have some love and compassion for me.

I have that love and compassion for my boyfriend...I see his life is really difficult right now. It is easy to love someone when a relationship is going well. The best measurement of the value of a relationship is watching and experiencing what happens when mistakes made, and/or missteps are taken. I believe given my love for my boyfriend, his lengthy record of being kind and caring, and thoughtful...I believe I need to offer him a supportive caring and guiding hand, another chance, and that unconditional love that I hear so much about, but so rarely see being offered.

Catch Up

2010-01-23T12:35:00.008-08:00

I have been in the hospital so haven't been able to keep up with my postings or responses. I apologize. I am still "technically" in the hospital, but am out on a pass right now. It feels so good to be at home!!!

This post is going to be a smattering of things I have been doing, information about treatments for depression I have been receiving and results I have experiencing from those treatments. Here goes...

1) ECT (electroconvulsive therapy)...I remember, years ago when I was in university, the student newspaper published an whole issue that was radically anti-electroconvulsive therapy (ECT). Am I ever glad I never listened to all the negative hype and (with trusted support and help) decided for myself whether I would try ECT as a treatment.

I have been receiving unilateral ECT treatments approximately 3X/week for 3 weeks. The X-mas holidays made it a bit mixed up. For the past couple weeks I have had ECT treatments once a week. I said in the previous post my increase in mood has been nothing short of miraculous. I was so severely depressed a couple weeks ago, and throughout most of the past 17 plus years( ...actually I had MDE's even before that, but the worst ones and this past 10 year plus treatment resistant MDE, have occurred in the past two decades).

Yesterday and the day before my mood was so intensely high I felt like I was in heaven. My self had come back!!! I was bubbly, effusive, effervescent, talkative, extremely outgoing, energetic, so happy I cannot even describe it. I felt like I was glowing, beautiful, and I felt extremely sexy and sexual. This is how I feel when I feel well. I think the intensity feels so strong because feeling good for me has been so hard to achieve, and suddenly all my bad feelings and thoughts were gone.

Unfortunately, my mood began to crash last night, but nowhere near as low/bad as it was before. It definitely is low though...which is upsetting, as I have seen this kind of cycling mood before, where I become my high self for a few days, only to crash and burn a few days later.

I am hoping this crash is temporary, and caused by my not sleeping the other night. I slept last night, and hopefully will sleep again tonight, and maybe that will help lift my mood again.

2) I don't even want to write this, but I will...I wonder if I have been hypomanic the past couple days. I really did not think so, until my boyfriend and I started discussing my behaviour and he told me I was being really pushy about sex. Until he said that I just felt like me and my "true" high sex drive had returned.

I know I have a much higher libido than many women...even when severely depressed, if sex is initiated by someone else I almost always am happy to participate...though I have difficulty initiating when depressed). I was feeling extremely sexual last night, and I can see how my boyfriend might have felt a bit overwhelmed by my advances, as he was not feeling very well.

He told me that sometimes when I am "high" I get really demanding and pushy. I have received this feedback from other people before, that sometimes I am so "ramped up" and "on", and when I am I sometimes demand the same level of energy and competence from others. I have seen this in myself too. I can tone it down, but unless I constantly pay attention to my behaviour I tend to slip right back into high energy mode.

Problem is...I think this behaviour is my personality...not my mood. Many members in my family have this same personality...super on all the time, constantly busy and always doing many things at the same time. My Dad is like this, as are both my sisters. I am a bit more outgoing, talkative, and effusive than them, but my paternal grandmother was EXACTLY like me, right down to being easily annoyed by anyone who couldn't keep up with her.

I am not saying that I am proud of my negative behaviour, but unfortunately I think my pushiness is tied to my "high" personality. In my defense...unlike my Grandma...who could really hurt others feelings with her insensitivity, I am really sensitive myself and knowing how easy it is to feel hurt by someone else, I try really, really hard to not hurt others, or effect them in a negative way. While sometimes I do make mistakes, or forget to hold back; I work hard to be as thoughtful, and aware of how by behaviour affects others as I possibly can.

There is more to write, but I need a break...I will continue to write again soon. Take care everyone.

P.S. Thank you so much to all the friends, readers, and health care professionals who have helped me throughout my depression. Of course, an especially big thank you goes out to Dr. K. (my psychiatrist). I would not be here without him. He is one of the most caring, knowledgeable and consistently supportive doctors and people I have ever had the pleasure to work with. Thank you so much for never giving up on me.

Electroconvulsive Therapy

2010-01-16T10:15:00.003-08:00

I apologize for disappearing offline for so long. I have been in the hospital receiving ECT(electroconvulsive therapy) and have had limited access to my blog.

Since mid-December I have been receiving left-unilateral electroconvulsive therapy 3 times a week; on Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings. I have had 13 treatments so far and am scheduled to have at least one more this coming Monday.

I am not sure if more are scheduled this coming week, but once I am discharged from the hospital I will be receiving outpatient ECT first probably once a week, then once every couple weeks, and then maintenance ECT will continue at once a month.

How I feel right now is nothing short of miraculous. I have spent most of my adult life battling depression; especially in the last 10 years. In the past 10 years I had very little relief from my mood disorder. I feel like I spent the last 10 years just trying to survive each day.

By the time I entered the hospital I was the closest to suicide I have ever been. I was spending every waking moment planning my demise. I had given up hope. I was completely distraught. I could not take life the way it was anymore.

Today, and for the past week, I feel like I want to live. I feel excited to be alive, happy to be breathing. I feel blessed to be alive. I feel like I have been given a chance again. I feel incredible. I feel hope that I have not felt in a long, long time. I am eternally grateful to everyone who helped, supported and encouraged me to survive this illness and receive the treatment I needed to become well.

In Hospital for ECT

2009-12-13T14:11:00.003-08:00

I have been in the hospital since Monday and am receiving Electroconvulsive Therapy (ECT) treatments again. I had my first treatment on Friday. Everything went okay. I was a bit scared as I climbed onto the surgery rooms treatment table/bed. I have been through this before so I was no where near as scared as I was the first time I had ECT.

That said, I started to cry as I went under, because I was a bit scared, and I really feel like my life is not worth all this effort. Some of my tears were of shame, for being like I am.

When I woke from the anaesthetic I was very confused and had no idea where I was, or why...and all the people staring down at me on the table really freaked me out. As soon as the nurse explained where I was I remembered and calmed down...(I almost felt, for a brief moment, like I had been abducted).

It surprises me, but as soon as I got into the hospital I felt better on a scale of 1-10 than I have in a long time....maybe years. This confuses me and makes me wonder if I am just weak, and need to be taken care of (it is really hard for me to even think that... I want so badly to be able to care for myself). I am still really depressed, but not near as depressed as I have been in the past few months.

I believe some of the lift is because, while I am in the hospital, I have no real responsibilities. I was really stressed out about all the things I was supposed to be doing: teaching art classes, helping teach a class, walk my dog 3-4 times a day, feed my dog, do all I need to do around my house like cook, shop, clean etc., etc.

My sister phoned me back and said she would take my dog for me. Thank god. My other sister came over to my city and took me to the hospital, and stayed with me for the 9.5 hours it took me to get admitted.

Yes, you read that right. I sat in emergency from 8:30am until 6:00pm. It was so stressful. I must have repeated my exact same story to 5 or 6 different people, nurses, nurse liaisons, residents, dr's, psychiatrists. I do not understand how this can be more efficient than having my own psychiatrist say I need an inpatient stay and calling me when a bed is available.

Anyways, I have ECT treatments Mon, Wed, and Friday next week. I have my laptop with me, but cannot figure out how to get access to the wifi here. I will write when I can, but I just want to tell you I am in a safe place, getting the treatment I need.

It Gets Worse...

2009-12-02T10:03:00.002-08:00

It seems I am being blocked at every angle. After seeing Dr. X. yesterday I called my sister to see if I could drive 5 hours to her place and leave my dog with her while I went into the hospital.

She owns her own home on 2.5 acres of fenced in property. She has two dogs that my dog adores. When we go there it isn't anymore work to take care of one extra dog, because really all she needs to do is put out an extra bowl of food and water (which I, of course, would bring with me, so there is no extra cost). I have dog-sat all three of them for a few days at her place before and found it no more difficult than taking care of my one dog.

At first my sister said sure, bring him up. So I made arrangements with a friend to take the 10hr return trip with me. A couple hours after my sister said okay, she phoned me back and said, "Can you find somewhere else to keep your dog?" I told her I had no where else to go. She said she couldn't take the dog, and I could hear her husband yelling at her in the background.

I got off the phone and started crying. I felt completely abandoned at a time when I really need my family to help me. It was really hard for me to reach out and ask for help. I know the dog is my responsibility. I know when I got the dog I made a decision to care for him. I also know I am an adult and need to take care of myself...

I know all this, I am generally, despite being so depressed, very, very independent. I always have been. I rarely ask my family for help. I feel so intensely alone.

It seems like my family thinks I could choose to be different if I just tried harder. Honestly, sometimes I feel like I am being treated like a drug addict, or a family member who is a criminal, rather than a family member with an illness. It feels like my family has decided that tough love , cutting their ties and there losses, and allowing me to hit rock bottom is the only way to saveme from myself. It is as though they feel that if they just push me far enough away my problem will disappear.

My other sister phoned me last night and I was really honest with her about how I was feeling. I told her that sometimes I feel like no one in the family cares about me, like the only way my family would recognize I need help would be when it was too late to help me.

She said, "that is just the depression talking, and they love me, but they have their own families".

I replied," I understand that, and I know your families take a lot of love, attention and time. I try not to ask for help, because I know you are all busy with your own lives, but for me, you are my family. I have no family of my own to help me. I have tried to find help in the community, but I cannot afford to pay very much, and there are no resources that I can find to help me get the treatment I need right now" . I feel desperate for help.

"We cannot understand what you go through.", she said.

Very calmly, but assertively I decided to be completely honest about what it feels like to be me, with my illness, in my family. I asked, "Why have none of you ever taken the time to learn about what it is like for a person to be clinically depressed? Or asked me what would help me? Or even sat down and taken the time to find out what it is that I struggle with. Not one of you has read a book, or tried to see how incredibly hard it is for me to manage an illness like this. Why has no one in my family (except my Mom...but she is dead)...cared enough to learn how to help or be supportive of me?"

When I write what I said down, I feel guilty for saying these things. My intention was not to make my sister feel bad, but to get her to see why I might feel so alone and uncared for in the only family I have. For years I have avoided expressing how saddened I am by the lack of support I get from my family. I am desperately in need of some support now, and I don't feel like I can get through this alone anymore.

I cannot imagine one of my sisters, or my dad or stepmom, becoming chronically and severely ill for years, and my not wanting to help them in anyway I could. To me, that is a familial responsibility, and an extension of your love for that person. Caring for family no matter what seems to me what a family is all about.

I know I cannot dictate, or change, how other people feel. People show love and feel love in their own way. People understand the role of, and their role in, the family in their own way. Knowing all that doesn't make me feel any less alone.

I feel like I really am so depressed that unless I can get more help than I have, unless I can somehow get some relief for awhile, I don't think I can continue in this life. It is too much for me to handle. I feel like a person, screaming in constant pain, and there is medication that could help them, but no one is willing to give it to them, and they are unable to get it themselves.

You know what scares me and saddens me about this whole situation (trying to get outpatient ECT, lack of family support, lack of community support and resources, bizarre and unhelpful treatment protocols etc...What scares and saddens me is that I know there are people who are far more mentally ill than I am, whose families have either completely abandoned them, or were never there for them in the first place. Compared to lots of people I have a caring family and I have a difficult time living with my illness. How hard must it be for those who literally have no one? The world is a sad and confounding place to me.

Kafkaesque Bureaucratic Nightmare

2009-12-01T17:47:00.002-08:00

My life already feels like a bad dream. Today, trying to get the care I need, in the manner I need it made me feel like I must be a character in a Kafka novel.

My province's (BC) Mental Healthcare system's rigid and top down dictatorial, rule bound, and unsympathetic, inflexible bureaucracy seems to forget that people with mental illnesses require "patient's needs focused care" (rather than bureaucracy-needs focused care), just like patients with physical illnesses. Right now I am frustrated, angry, even more depressed. I had an appointment with Dr. X. today, because I want a referral to receive ECT as an outpatient. He contacted the ECT coordinator at the hospital, and they said I had to have someone with me for 24 hours after each treatment. Period.

It didn't matter that last time I had ECT I was fine and able to care for myself a few hours after the procedure. My only option if no one was available 24hrs/day, three days a week, was to go in as an inpatient.

I felt really annoyed and angry about this, thought it was ridiculous and one of those irritatingly bureaucratic rules where people forget that patients have varying needs, and flexibility would go a long way towards helping patients get there needs met. Patients getting their needs met is what a hospital is supposed to be about...isn't it? The next thing that happened showed me just how unpatient focused BC's Mental Health system can be. I have no idea how people who are even more ill than me get the help they need.

So...Dr. X. and I discussed my going in as an inpatient. I asked him what he would recommend for me, knowing how I am feeling, and he thought going in as an inpatient would be the best thing. Despite really not wanting to be an psychiatric inpatient...for lots of reasons: loss of autonomy, stigma, scrutiny, potentially getting a misdiagnosis in my file, because a new doctor sees something in the 20 minutes they see me, that my careful, diligent, and intelligent psychiatrist has not seen in my nine years of treatment, loss of freedom, being away from my dog, having to share a room with someone I don't know, phobia of getting bedbugs or lice from a public bed, etc. The reasons are many and and varied, and each of them really impacts my fear and lack of trust that I will be treated fairly. I am afraid I will be harmed, rather than helped by an inpatient stay.

...despite all that, I agreed to go into the hospital.

This is where the real Kafkaesque bureaucracy begins...
I asked Dr. X. to refer me to the hospital next door to where his office is. This is where I went before for ECT. My experience had been okay, and some of it had been really positive. I trusted that going there would be okay.

What follows is none of DR. X's doing...I could tell he wished he could send m,e to the Mood Disorders ward I went to before. I appreciate all he has done to help me and can see he tried to help me, but the system has too many blocks, rules, and idiotic systems in place to allow him to refer me to the University Hospital...

Dr. X told me he cannot refer to the mood disorders ward at the University anymore. All referrals for inpatient ECT had to be done at VG Hospital's emergency department. I listened carefully, thinking he could send a referral to the emergency department and then maybe they phoned me when a bed became available.

They wouldn't make a severely depressed people, (who had a diagnosis, and whose personal psychiatrist was recommending inpatient ECT), sit in the emergency room all day or all night, go through a slew of questions and questionnaires by nurses, psychologists, social workers, residents and doctors: They wouldn't make me sit in an emergency room when I was feeling this unwell and knew what I needed to do to help myself...would they?

They would. In order to be an inpatient I have to go to the emergency room, sit there patiently and politely for potentially hours, and even then I may not be given ECT.

This enrages me. I do not believe that a chronically physically ill person, who had a specialist who had seen them for years, and who now wanted to refer her for some kind of surgery, or other "in hospital" care or program, would be told to send their patient to emergency, where they would be interviewed poked and prodded by numerous hospital staff, and if and when a hospital bed became available, then MAYBE they would be admitted for the specialist's requested plan of action.

I do not know how, in the 21st Century, so much discrimination, and inadequate and downright awful treatment, of people with mental illnesses is allowed. I am telling you...if ECT helps me I am going to make it my business to fight for changes to increase the accessibility, availability, and flexibility of treatments and resources available to people needing help for mental illnesses.

I will patiently accept my situation right now, and go through all the hoops and rigamarole to get the help I need, because I don't want to labelled as a difficult patient, or a borderline. I need help so I will work within the system for now, however,...

The system has pissed off the wrong person. I am going to make it my business to see that in the future mental health patients are treated with the respect, the patient focused resources, and the dignity every human being deserves. I do not mean I will blame the doctors, or nurses, or even individual administrators. I might blame the governments insufficient funding and support for mental health services:>0

I mean I will volunteer my time to work towards seeing positive structures, regulations and individualized, patient focused support systems and care are available to ALL people with mental illnesses. My first plan of action will be to find a way to ensure that no person wanting ECT is made to wait in the emergency room, when a referral from a regularily seen psychiatrist should make it easy enough to call the patient when a bed is available.

Thank You

2009-11-29T19:30:00.001-08:00

Despite not sleeping and still being almost unbearably depressed I woke this morning with a clearer head. The comments people made on my last post both reinforced my clearer thinking and gave me some new ideas about how to help myself.

Thank you so much for being so caring and supportive. It really helps me feel less alone, and less hopeless.

So here is what I did/am going to do:
I called Dr X's office and left a message for him to see if I can get an appointment with him Monday, or if not, if he can send in a referral tomorrow for me to receive ECT as soon as possible.
I e-mailed him too in case the voice mail gets lost, because my phone is doing strange things right now.
I was going to wait until after X-mas to go in for ECT, but I am so depressed I need to feel better now. I am afraid about how hopeless and desperate I feel. I want my life back now. If they are able to fit me in now my Xmas will hopefully be happier. The hospital may not have any available ECT treatment times anyways, but I want to at least try to get in now.
My friend "E" (thank you!)went with me to check out doggy daycare, because my biggest concern has been what if I can't get home withing four hours of leaving my dog. He cannot stay in his kennel much longer than that.
Ends up it is only $23.00 for a half day, or $28.00 for a full day...not much when you consider how much it could help me.

I don't know why I did not think of doggy day care before. It makes so much sense: He gets exercise, care and companionship, and I can stop worrying about not being home on time, or not feeling well enough to walk him.

I sent an inquiry to a private home care company this morning to ask about availability, cost of getting someone to help me home from the hospital. If there are no other options I'm pretty sure some company can help me.
I am going to phone the nurse at the hospital tomorrow to see what my options are to be an outpatient when I have no one to take me home...I am sure others must have this problem. My Mom used to be a nurse and managed Home Support in her town. People were available to help with all kinds of things for patients. There must be someone in the system who can help me.

As you can see I at least feel a bit of hope right now. I feel like there is a way I can do ECT as an outpatient, it is just a matter of finding the resources available.

The one thing I am afraid of is that the hospital contact will be less than helpful...and will just keep repeating the written rules, saying something like, "the rules say I either stay in as a patient, or have a friend/relative be with me and take me home".

There are lots of great healthcare people out there, but for some reason I have come across more than my fair share of medical people who seem to treat me like I am the problem, and not that the system is not flexible to help people with unique challenges. I often feel like my having a mental illnesses causes some healthcare professionals to discount my intelligence and to jump to conclusions about me before they know my story.

You know how sometimes people working in a bureaucracy are unable to think outside the written rules and make exceptions, or find novel ways to get around a problem. If I hit that kind of a wall I don't think I have the strength to try to get the person to understand how important doing this as an outpatient is to me.

Anyways...thanks again for the comments and support. You got me thinking outside the box, which really increased my hope.

Closing in on Me

2009-11-28T23:30:00.002-08:00

I have been having a massive anxiety attack over the past two hours. I feel like I can't breathe and it only serves to accentuate how out of control, and hopeless I am feeling. I feel like I am not going to to survive my depression much longer.

I cry as I write this, sob actually. I feel like it is over. I won't ever get better. I want so badly to be my old self. I want so badly to feel loved and cared for. I want the energy to love and care for others. All I feel is alone, empty, anxious, exhausted and so depressed I want to die.

Everyday, two or three times a day, I manage to leave the house, to walk the dog. I walk about 10 blocks, sometimes less, once in a while more. I go out rain or shine. I walk as much as I can, because I know, even if it is raining the fresh air, and the light is good for me. Even if it doesn't feel good to walk, I pray it will help me get better. All I want is to get better.

I do it too, because the dog needs the exercise, and I love my dog., and when I bought him I became responsible for his well being. I love him so much, but sometimes caring for him seems so hard, at times almost impossible. I sometimes think I can't handle having a dog. I can't manage without a dog though, because he stops me from killing myself. Without him I would have committed suicide. When I think of suicide my plans always start with how to protect him, to make him safe if I go. I don`t think anyone would love and care for him as much as I do.

So I keep walking the dog.

It takes me a couple hours to talk myself into the morning walk. I sit and browse the paper, always reading the obituaries for any sign that people like me, people who can't handle life, exist. I so desperately want to be understood and to understand.

I am so exhausted I feel sick. I feel physically ill. As I start my walk I keep saying, "one more step" to myself, in my head, because my legs are so tired and I feel physically unwell, and I don't think I can walk for very long. I tell myself I can go to bed when I get home, to keep myself going. The walk ends. I go inside and sit down. All I want to do is go back to bed.

I force myself to stay up all day. It takes all my energy, and all my effort to not lay down. I try to find things to do to get myself out of the house as a strategy to keep myself awake. I can't lay down if I am not at home. I cannot let myself sleep, because I have not been able to stay sleep this past week.

I always seem to have some difficulties with sleeping, but it has been worse the past few weeks. I fall asleep at 11:30 or 12:00...at 3am I am wide awake and absolutely nothing helps me get back to sleep. I try laying there, hoping sleep will finally come. It does not work. I get up and try reading. At 5 or 6am I am still wide awake. I try laying on the couch instead of in bed. The dog cuddles up to me, and I fall into a deep sleep for a few hours.

Strategies: care for a dog, stay awake during the day, schedule activities, create structure, get outside, get sunlight and fresh air, leave the house; my life has become a series of strategies to help my depression...but nothing ever helps.

I still feel severely depressed. I still wish I were dead, every single day. Sometimes I think it is cruel for my doctor to keep me alive. It is cruel to keep me alive so I can be this depressed. Nothing helps.

I won't survive this much longer. My depression, coupled with my physical pain and its increased fatigue (I can't believe I could feel even more exhausted than I did before, but I do), complete lack of interest in food, or anything that used to bring some relief...I even canceled my choir and singing lessons this week, because I was too depressed and too fatigued to go...all this illness is too much for me to handle.

All day I tried to figure out how I could go for ECT as an outpatient. I can't see how it is possible. I have no one to take me home three times a week, after the procedure. I do not want to go in as an inpatient.

My boyfriend is completely against it, and I do not want to leave my dog. I do not know why, but my boyfriend cannot see how depressed I am, even though I explain it to him over and over, I try to be honest with him about how I'm feeling. I cry a lot. I have no interest in anything. My place is a disastrous mess. I cannot cook. I am to tired to do much...

Yet, every time he calls, when he asks me how I am, and I say, "I'm not feeling very well", he asks, "Why", what's wrong? I repeat, "I am depressed". "What are you depressed about"?

Argh...I'm just depressed!! I have worked for years in therapy to take care of anything I am depressed about, to build a life worth living,,,but I'm still fucking depressed...and I still want to die.

I have nothing to be depressed about EXCEPT the fact that I am depressed, want to die all the time, am too tired to enjoy anything for any length of time...and that length is getting shorter and shorter and shorter.

I will try to figure out how I can be an outpatient without someone to take me home...there must be someway for people who live alone, to get this done. If I can't get ECT I give up.

Physically and Mentally Ill: Will this pain ever end?

2009-11-26T13:36:00.003-08:00

I am not doing well at all, both mentally and physically. I feel so exhausted and fatigued that I feel sick. The pain in my hands and arms is getting worse too. On top of that my whole body aches in almost a flu-like way. I have no fever, and no other flu symptoms, but you know how your bones ache when you have the flu, I have a milder, albeit still achy, throbby painful version of the flu-ache.

Despite being so exhausted I cannot sleep, which makes me even more exhausted. I am also getting more and more concerned about my physical symptoms, because they seem to be getting much worse and I seem to be getting more symptoms. Last night as I tried to get to sleep I remembered that around the time my hands started to hurt/lose mobility I had used an powerful insecticide throughout my house, because a friend of mine had discovered an infestation of bedbugs at their house.

Although I never saw, and have never seen (thank god), any bedbugs at my place I was concerned some may have been introduced into my home on the clothes/shoes of my friend, so as a precaution I sprayed my place... (a lot...I was freaking out as I have a phobia of bedbugs and lice). I opened all my windows and door while spraying, but numerous times while spraying I was overcome by the fumes. Last night I started worrying that I have poisoned myself with the insecticide, and that is the cause of my symptoms.

On some level I know I should not try diagnosing myself, and should wait patiently to see the rheumatologist in mid-December...but I can't stop worrying about what is happening to my body. I just can't manage being physically and mentally ill.

My mood is also extremely low right now. Despite trying to push myself to do things I have cancelled my choir, and my singing lessons this week, because I feel so depressed and physically ill. I am so tired of trying to get better and failing so miserably. I'm not sure I can manage this much longer.

What Does a Depressed Person Look Like

2009-11-24T13:21:00.003-08:00

The entire time I have been off work I have been sure that my insurance company is spying on me. This fear has caused me so much stress and grief. Dr. X. has really tried to encourage me to keep trying to play, smile, do things that I enjoy doing, despite both my depression and my concerns about the insurance company seeing me enjoying myself.

He says, act like they are watching you and do it anyways. I have tried really hard to do just that, but my worries about the insurance company misconstruing my joy in the moment, with wellness, and my ability to return to work, keeps me feeling terrified about doing things. It seems I may be worrying for a reason.

Over on Shrink Rap there is a post that will scare the hell out of anyone who is depressed and on disability. It tells the story of how a woman placed photos of herself on facebook showing her having fun and vacationing. Her insurer removed her from disability benefits for her depression partially based on how happy she appeared in her pictures.

The article made my me outraged, but it was the 668 comments after the article that made my blood bubble and boil. I could not believe how little so many people understand about what it is to live with and try to survive, and recover, from major/clinical depression.

I organized the comments by "agree", and the fourth most common agreed upon comment was:

525 people agreed: "...it is clear this woman is a scam artist".

Not far down the page were more unbelievable "agree" comments...

262 people agreed, "...I hate to be cruel but from the facts presented, I'm leaning towards support of the insurance company's side. If she's ok to take trips, have parties, and go bar-hopping, how is she not ok to report to work every day? "
212 people agreed..."Oops, looks like you got caught to me !!! Back to work we go....like the rest of the depressed workforce of today"
143 people agreed..."This woman sounds like a real go-getter"

How is it "clear this woman is a scam artist"? She posted pictures of a smiling self, enjoying the company of friends and a vacation on the beach. Do depressed people never go out with family or friends? Does major depression always preclude smiles, laughter and enjoyable moments on vacations?

I know for me, smiles come easily sometimes, and must be forced or faked other times. Even if I am severely depressed, I often find myself in situations where my mood suddenly lifts for a short period of time (when I teach art is an example). I have been so depressed I felt suicidal, unable to get out of bed, and was sure I was unable to get to my class...and then I walk through the door, see a student and my persona suddenly switches into high gear, and no one in the world would ever guess I was depressed. The problem is, afterwards, I almost always need to nap because I exhaust myself.

Does my ability to lift my mood mean I am not really depressed? I have wondered about this a lot. I cannot reconcile my depressed self with its thoughts of suicide, plans for suicide, hopelessness, and intensely low mood, with the persona that seems to be bubbly, personable and for some moments maybe even "happy".

I know that others have a difficult time believing I am depressed sometimes because I often am able to hide my sadness, or even become "unsad" for short periods of time. This has caused me a great deal of stress, because people are constantly underestimate, and often dismissing, how sad I am, and how much my depression impacts and continues to destroy my life, and my desire to live.

Another commenter writes, "If she's ok to take trips, have parties, and go bar-hopping, how is she not ok to report to work every day?" Can a person, who is truly depressed go on a vacation and enjoy any of it?

For me my depression often stops me from doing things, going places, being with people, but I still push myself to participate in these activities. Sometimes I even enjoy the activities I do. Can you believe I am depressed and actually enjoy some things? I do sometimes go away on a vacation.

Most of the time I still feel as depressed as I would be back at home, often the stress of being away from home is too much, but sometimes, the vacation provides me with moments of relief, and a break from myself. Do moments of relief mean wellness? Does it mean I can work?

Whether I am able, or not able, to work is complicated. When this depressive episode began I was severely depressed and somehow still managed to work at a job that required a great deal of energy and effort. My fear of losing my job pushed me to keep working well past the time I should have kept working. I struggled for two years to maintain my work, but near the end I shut down completely and would sit and listen to people at work explain things or discuss things...yet I could not understand what was going on anymore.

I know for me stress really triggers me and increases my depression. Currently I do some volunteer work, but only a few hours a week. I know I am not able to manage more than a few hours right now. Even with just those few hours it takes me a long time to recuperate.

I feel so scared I will not be given the time I need to get well, that I will be told I need to go back to work before I feel well enough to manage working. I question myself everyday about how it is that I am able to participate in life; write in my blog, volunteer, take singing lessons, see friends, yet am unable to manage working. I guess the simplest explanation is that the singing lesson is an hour long and then I can go home and sleep. My volunteering is a few hours a week, then I can go home and be alone, and sleep. My blog is just all the thoughts already in my head, being typed onto the page. It is cathartic for me to write...and then I can sleep. My friends know I am depressed, so I can just be most of the time.

I don't think that my sleeping after every little increment of work, at a job, would be very acceptable to any company. There is a term called "Presenteeism" that is replacing "Absenteeism" as what a company is not looking for. A person who shows up for work, yet is not well enough to fully participate in work costs companies a lot of money in lost revenue and work accomplished. The "Presentee shows up, does very little, and gets paid. It does not help the company to have a worker who is unable to fully participate in work.

Anyways I ramble...but I want to show that people who are severely depressed can sometimes lift themselves enough to do things others might perceive to be impossible to someone who is unaware what depression is really like. This just points to the resilience of the people pushing themselves to help themselves move towards wellness.

Kinesthetic Meditation

2009-11-21T11:56:00.003-08:00

Inspired by another blogger's post, "Quicksand and a Mandala", I have decide to open a new blog that focuses on activities that help me learn to heal. Throughout my therapy Dr X. has helped me create in my life, a theme of activity based healing, by developing what he calls a "benevolent schedule" for myself. My new blog is a celebration of how doing can affect my thinking, and in turn help me heal.

Please add my new blog "Kinesthetic Meditation" to your blog list. I will continue to write on this blog, but will keep this blog focused on thoughts, ideas and feelings, and my new blog focused on activities I enjoy, or that inspire me.

Thanks for the inspiring idea Harriet M. Welch!

Anti-Psychiatry, Anti-medication; Thinking Critically about "Antidotes"

2009-11-15T16:16:00.004-08:00

I suppose my post today is about thinking critically about any medical treatment you choose, or do not choose. It is about deciding for yourself, maybe with or without someones help, what you are willing to try to achieve your mental health goals. Please do not decide not to follow your psychiatrists treatment plan simply because someone told you someone, somewhere, but they can't remember who or where, had a bad reaction to a particular treatment. Some people have bad reactions to aspirin, it doesn't mean everyone should stop taking, or never take aspirin.

I've noticed more than average antimedication, antitreatment, antipsychiatry comments on my posts lately. Generall,y my first reaction when I read these comments is to become annoyed and brush off the comments as antipsychiatry propaganda or unbalanced, undereducated opinion, or opinions not informed by facts.

I am aware that some of my reaction is a reflection of my own irritation that the treatments I try aren't working. Some of my reaction though is worry that someone, who may really need help for their mental illness, may read the comment and without thinking critically about the other side of the information, might decide they are too afraid to seek treatment, or try a particular treatment.

Today I began thinking that the people/person writing the comments may have had some very bad/awful experiences of there own in psychiatric treatments,; either with the treatments themselves, or the medications. I suppose if I were not completely confident that I was being treated in the best manner possible I might feel that way too. I hope, if people have had bad experiences with their treatment for mental illness, that they find the power inside themselves to find a therapist or psychiatrist that they feel they can trust. I know for me, when nothing seems to help, just having a psychiatrist I connect with on a very deep level helps me keep trying to get better.

I am sorry to see people are having/or have had such negative experiences with their doctors, or medications, or other aspects of psychiatric treatment. It is ironic that although I do not seem to get better, I feel absolutely no anger, or annoyance or fear that I am not receiving the best care possible. You would think after so many failed treatments I might be anti-medication, or anti-ECT, or anti-therapy. I am not. In fact I feel that being treated with so many things has helped me learn about all the treatments available to people. It has also taught me I am very blessed to have Dr. X as my therapist/psychiatrist: very, very blessed.

I read somewhere (Maybe in a book called "Bipolar Disorder: A guide For Patient's and Families", by Francis Mark Mondimore, M.D....great book by the way IMO) that people used to die from being manic. Given there were no mood stabilizer to slow them down they would sometimes just collapse from exhaustion. Given how little was available to help people with mental illnesses even 30 or 40 years ago, I find it remarkable how much has been, and is being developed to help people now.

Some of the comments lately (and in the past) focus on how dangerous the side effects of a particular medication or treatment can be. Part of my difficulty with some of these comments is that they often relay unbalanced, inaccurate, or highly subjective "knowledge". For example, one commenter wrote:

"Antipsychotics are very dangerous drugs and can even cause Parkinson's disease and Tardive Dyskinesia...Many psyche drugs can cause permanent damage to the brain and nervous system...ECT causes memory loss - BRAIN DAMAGE....It has been my experience that most people are depressed for a valid reason...It sometimes goes all the way back to childhood. For someone who is considering incurring brain damage to rid themselves of a problem, I would ask this: What unpleasant truth are you willing to damage yourself in order to hide?" (from, ECT Media Portrayals of Depression comment)

(Note: I am using this particular comment as an example because it covers a range of concerns similar to many of the comments other people, who suggest psychiatry/psychiatric treatments don't work, are dangerous etc., often make,)

My understanding of some of the above treatments considers some of what this commenter has suggested. Yes, I believe use of antipsychotics should be carefully considered, because there is a potential for side effects such as Tardive Dyskinesia, and other unwelcome/dangerous side effects. As a patient I need to decide if my illness warrants taking the chance with the side effects of the medications I try. I have decided that for me, the pain of my continued depression, is far worse than my fear of a side effect that I may, "potentially", (not "necessarily"), experience.

As for "ECT caus[ing] memory loss- brain damage": I understand that memory loss is a fear, and sometimes. or for some, a side effect of ECT. I have had ECT though, and while I did experience some memory loss around the time I was receiving the treatments, I don't believe I permanently lost any memory. I could be mistaken, given that even when I was experiencing short term memory loss while being treated with ECT, it was not me who was noticing it. It was my family members. I couldn't remember, what I couldn't remember(...ha, ha.) Regardless, my choice to try ECT was informed and in fact it was my idea to try it. People underestimate how severe depression can be, and how hard it can be to treat sometimes. My depression was severe enough, and treatment resistant enough for me to decide that even if I had memory loss from ECT, it was worth trying a treatment that was shown to be highly effective in treating depression. I was willing to lose a few memories for the hope of feeling better mentally.

Last, but not least, this commenter, and others with similar concerns, has suggested my depression continues because of some "hidden", or unresolved "truth" from childhood. The truth is I had parents who were at times imperfect...imagine! Like everyone mine childhood was not perfect. Maybe at times my childhood experiences were devastatingly awful, but at times, in fact I'd say most times I had it pretty good. My parents loved me and tried to be good parents. I do have difficulty accepting and understanding some of my experiences in childhood, but I have worked hard in therapy to learn to manage, understand and for the most part accept and forgive some of the bad things. While sometimes I wonder if I have some deep dark hidden secret in my brain somewhere...locked away so deep that I cannot remember...I feel pretty confident that is not the case.

I work hard in therapy with Dr. X and I worked hard in therapy with every therapist I saw. I am open and able to articulate my feelings and work through my experiences. While my depression often makes me ashamed of things, when I am in therapy I work hard to ensure any shame about any memories or experiences is challenged and dealt with. It is not likely that my brain has hidden something from me, some deep dark secret that I cannot face. I feel pretty confident I could face any truth in therapy, especially with Dr. X. because I know he accepts me anyway I am.

For me there is no deep dark past that is keeping me depressed. My depression is keeping me depressed That's it, and I will do all I can, use any and all weapons available to me in the psychiatric arsenal to fight that depression. Of course I will learn about any of the medicines and treatments before I agree to try them. For me though, rejecting theses treatments outright because I am afraid of what I don't know, or because I hear bad things about them, or because I hear/read about other's bad experiences, is not my way of doing things. I try to check out all sides of the story, learn as much as I can, read balanced information, look for scientific information and then make a decision based on as much fact, and as little conjecture as possible.

I know no science is perfect. Mistakes are made. Drug and treatment side effects can be devastating ands sometimes permanent. Companies selling things like medication, treatments, help etc. sometimes lie and cheat. Pharmaceutical companies' studies are sometimes falsified or sometimes only positive drug trial outcomes are published. There are good and bad therapists/psychiatrists, and people in general, out there. It is not easy knowing what will or will not help or harm you.

I believe all we can do is try to find a psychiatrist/therapist whose education, knowledge and experience we trust, take the responsibility to look into treatments offered to us and try to understand the pros and cons, and decide for ourselves what we are willing to try to help ourselves become healthier. For some, they will decide no treatment is the best treatment for them, for others they will willingly try anything their psychiatrist suggests. For me, I will try any treatment that my psychiatrist thinks might help, if I feel is more likely to help me than harm me and I can see that the potential for benefits outweighs the potential for unacceptable side effects. We (my pdoc and I) may not always make the right choices, but they are well thought out choices and the choices I am willing to live with.

Physical Pain

2009-11-14T21:04:00.003-08:00

I don't know if I do this because of my depression...I will get physically unwell/sick, or get an infection, or have pain, or whatever physical problems people get, and I leave it and leave it and leave it until it is so bad I am certain it is real and I'm not just imagining it. It is like I don't trust my judgement about my own body, or I think I'm being hypochondriacal, or maybe I just try to deny there is a problem.

There is a problem. About 3-4 months ago I started feeling like my fingers were losing mobility. They were stiff and I was having trouble opening packages, and jars because they were so stiff; especially in the morning, or after laying down.

Over the past few weeks my hands have become so sore and stiff at night that I cannot even bend my fingers, or pinch them then together enough to pull my covers up, or fix my pillow position. I have been using the palms of my hands to pull things up, and move things around instead.

A couple weeks ago I realized that this stiffness and pain had to be real and was getting much worse at a very rapid rate. I told Dr. X finally. He ordered some blood tests (inconclusive) and then told me that I needed to see my family doctor for more tests or something?

My first thought when the tests were inconclusive was that I am imagining the pain and loss of movement. (Why I would do that I don't have a clue).

These past couple days my fingers, hands, and my left arm are aching so bad it feels like my elbow is healing from being broken. Tje feeling in my lower arm/elbow is the same, just as painful, as it was the first few weeks after my elbow was broken...throbbing. My fingers ache.

Right now I cannot bend my ring fingers at all past the middle joint, and my movement is bad and painful at that joint too. The rest of my fingers have varying degrees of pain and stiffness...but my hands as a body part are rapidly losing mobility. I feel pretty scared about how fast this is coming on and because I don't know why.

I have an appointment with a specialist, but not until late December. If this rate of mobility loss continues I am getting afraid I will lose all mobility in my hands. On top of that, the pain is getting so much worse. I've tried Advil, but it doesn't seem to help. Warm water helps some, and the cold outside makes it much worse. Dr X said to exercise my hands, keep them mobile, but they hurt when I try to bend my fingers and now it is starting to hurt and feel difficult to move the larger joints at the base of my fingers. I can't even hold onto my dog's leash, I have been wrapping it around my arm.

I think this physical pain/fear is feeding a downward spiral in my mood...this is not what I need right now.

Sleeping Sickness

2009-11-13T00:38:00.001-08:00

Sometimes you wake to a song that seems to be written for, and about, you. Here is what I awoke to this morning...

"...Like the sea, I'm constantly changing from calm to ill
Madness fills my heart and soul
As if the great divide could swallow me whole
Oh, how I'm breaking down"

"I awoke, only to find my lungs empty
Through the night, so it seems I'm not breathing
And now my dreams are nothing like they were meant to be
And I'm Breaking Down
I think I'm breaking down

And I'm afraid to sleep because of what haunts me
Such as living with the uncertainties
That I'll never find the words to say
Which would completely explain
Just how I'm breaking down

Someone come, Someone come and save my life
Maybe I'll sleep when I am dead
But now its like the night is taking up sides
With all the worries that occupy the back of my mind
Could it be? This misery will suffice

I've become, the simple souvenir of someone's kill
Like the sea, I'm constantly changing from calm to ill
Madness fills my heart and soul
As if the great divide could swallow me whole
Oh, how I'm breaking down

Someone come, Someone come and save my life
Maybe I'll sleep when I am dead
But now its like the night is taking up sides
With all the worries that occupy the back of my mind
Could it be? This misery will suffice

Someone come, Someone come and save my life

Someone come, Someone come and save my life

Someone come, Someone come and save my life
Could it be? This misery will suffice"

Thanks, I am Grateful For...

2009-11-12T16:55:00.002-08:00

I am not doing well, but despite that I can see I have a lot to be thankful for. I have a warm bed, in a safe home. I have food and water. I have people around me who love me. I have a faithfully companion in my dog Skookum. I have a warm and loving boyfriend and friends who care about me. I feel so much pain, yet I want others to know I appreciate all they do for me.

Thanks to my blogosphere friends, supporters, commenters and readers for helping me out when I need someone beside me who understands. I cannot express enough how important this support has been to me over the years. I may not say it often enough, but you make a positive difference in my life.
Thanks to my 'real' life friends for being so thoughtful and caring; for holding my hand when I need it, and for being there both when I need a shoulder to cry on and when I need to share my exhuberance and joy. I hope I am able to repay your kindness. You are so important in my life.
Thanks to my boyfriend for loving me for me, for being so open with hugs and kisses and love. You are so easy to be with.
Thanks to my family, who, despite my fearing otherwise, tell me they will always love me no matter what. I am so afraid I will burn you out, but today my sister told me that would not happen. My other sister sent me a collage of photos of family members with "We Love You" written at the top. Thanks, I needed that. I posted it on my fridge so I can see it all the time.
Thanks to my husband who has accepted and forgiven my transgressions and is being very reasonable about our divorce proceedings. He has also been very supportive of me these past couple months...calling to see if I am okay and offering to help if I need it. It really matters to me that we part peacefully and kindly.
Last...but certainly not least, thanks to Dr. X. for sticking with me and being such a stable force in my life. I feel I can count on you to help me...even when nothing else seems to help. That support has been a literal life saver so many times. This morning, on my way top my appointment, I didn't think I could keep going. I can, and I will. Your carry my hope for me, in times like right now, helps me keep trying

Thank you so much,

...aqua

It Hurts

2009-11-10T12:34:00.007-08:00

I cried myself to sleep last night. This week has been like that. I feel overwhelmed by all the responsibility to get better, to help myself, and to move on in my life.

I feel like I think I try hard, but really I do not. I vegetate at home a lot. I stare at the wall half the day and wish I could change. That is getting me nowhere. This life is no life at all. It is hell.

Yesterday afternoon I had a short period of hope, that if I could manage to do all the things I enjoyed, or all the things I wanted to do, if I just did all the things that made me happy, I would become happy. Just the thinking about how to get myself, how to force myself, how to push myself to do, instead of just think about doing, exhausted and overwhelmed me. I feel useless, hopeless, helpless. Completely lost.

Last night I opened up the bag with all my hoarded medications. I want so badly to end this life. I wrote my sisters a note a few days ago. As I sat staring at all the medicine I tried to figure out how to exit and make sure my dog is okay. That, and the fact that I don't even have the energy to kill myself, is the only thing that stopped me. How sad...that besides my dog, my low energy and inability to do, is the only thing saving me.

Seroquel Side Effect

2009-11-08T13:02:00.002-08:00

I am going absolutely crazy with one of the side effects of Seroquel. My legs are driving me mad. I take my medicine and then a while later I get this awful feeling in my legs (or my head ABOUT my legs) I can't tell if my legs feel awful, or if it's my head telling me my legs feel awful. It gets worse each time I increase my dose.

At first I described it to DR. X as a feeling like there are worms crawling inside my legs amking my legs feel like they need to move. The more I try to figure out what the feeling really is the less I think it is coming from my legs and the more I feel like it is a figment of my imagination (caused by the Seroquel).

The feeling is hard to describe...The closest I can think is that it is an obsessive need to move my legs, caused by my brain telling me moving them will make them feel better. If I try to sit still and not move it feels like the tension and need to move builds and builds until I can't stand it anymore.

Dr. X says maybe restless legs (but when I read about it they say that is painful). My feeling is not physically painful, rather it induced and intense and unmanageable irritability and anxiety in me. I feel like I am going to be driven even more mad than I already am.

Dr. X. has also talked of Akathisia. I don't really know what the difference is except from what I read it sounds like Akathisia actually makes your legs move...I am the one moving my legs...it is not an automatic thing...I can, for a short period hold back from moving...it is the intensity of the annoying feeling that makes ME (my conscious self) need to move my legs.

Can anyone shed some light on what this feeling is and if there is anything non-medicinal I can do to stop it. Right now I am taking larger and larger doses of muscle relaxants and Advil to try and stop it (I thought it was helping, but I think maybe I was imagining it helping me because it is not helping at all right now.

Please...if anyone can give me info please do, because now my legs are feeling annoying. Dr. X. mentioned medication, but I don't see him until Thursday...and right now I do not want to take any more medication.

Also, can someone explain the differense between RLS and Akathisia?

A Life Worth Living

2009-11-06T14:16:00.004-08:00

I am so annoyed and irritated for so many reasons...but this time it was triggered by blogger. I just COMPLETED a post and went to put an image on as a finishing touch and all my edits to the original post (which was actually most of the post) disappeared.

I don't feel like writing it again...but my point was that unless I get my old life back...the one where I unselfconsciously sang out loud at the top of my lungs...I don't want to live.

...and I feel hopeless and pretty certain that life, the one worth living, is gone for good.

ECT & Media Portrayals of Depression Treatment Options

2009-11-03T11:04:00.000-08:00

Dr Shock's blog is a wonderful mix of informative articles, videos and analysis of a variety of things from music, travel and art, to psychiatry and back. Of course, his focus is psychiatry, but the renaissance man in him shines through in his blog.

In one of his recent posts... "Illuminate Depression" he has posted a video about different treatments for depression. It is fascinating and talks about a variety of treatments. A big kudos to it for bothering to mention (unlike most overviews of depression treatments) some people's depression is treatment resistant.

I have pretty much given up hoping that main stream media will explain that depression is not always as "treatable" as they would have us believe. Nothing annoys me more than the statement "Depression is a treatable illness". It's the opening line of so many self help and depression information books...and for many of us it sounds like a lie. For me it creates an intense internal struggle within me about whether or not it is my fault I remain depressed despite trying several different kinds of treatments.

While the video is informative and interesting I found it very curious...and annoying...that the makers of the video included talks about all kinds of different treatments, some common, and some in the early stages of development, including rTMS, (which from what I understand has not been shown to be any better than a placebo***), yet it neglects to even mention Electroconvulsive Therapy (ECT); even though ECT is a well-studied, scientifically proven, highly effective treatment for resistant depression. (***see this recent post in the blog "Clinical Psychology and Psychiatry: A Closer Look" for a scathing look at the FDA's approval of rTMS and you will wonder how it was possibly approved)

It irritates me, (and does not help me explain potential treatments to concerned family members), when the media, either by negative portrayal or by leaving positive and informative information about ECT out of stories about depression treatments, subtly dismisses or devalues an effective and proven helpful treatment for resistant/refractory depression.

I feel confident I have informed myself about ECT as an option. What though of others who have not had access to any information about ECT except what they see, or don't see, portrayed in mainstream media? What about those who only ever hear negative information, or who trust that the books and videos the media are promoting and showing them the best, or the only, options available?

Will some people with resistant depression, some who might be helped with ECT, miss out on the chance to become well because popular media at best has failed to share balanced, scientific information about ECT, or at worst is colluding with naysayers to portray ECT as either a dangerous choice, or a barbaric one?

I worry also that the lack of accessible and scientific information in the media about ECT perpetuates the fears and myths that exist about the treatment. In effect this may (and I am certain does) lead fewer people to see it as an option...even if they have tried many, many other unsuccessful treatments for their mood disorder. I also think the negative media, and lack of media, and especially lack of an unbiased media about ECT affects how willing partners, family members and friends are when it comes to supporting a patient's decision to try ECT.

The media, when they discuss and examine depression treatment options and leave out, dismiss, or malign ECT as a valid and valuable treatment option, is not doing anyone with treatment resistant depression a favour. In doing so the media perpetuates ECT myths, hysteria and misinformation.

Caged

2009-11-01T22:36:00.000-08:00

(Thoughts like this post are partly why I stopped writing for a while...yeah I didn't have the internet at home, but I also couldn't find the energy to make the effort to get outside my home and make my way to the library only a few short blocks from my house, to rant about my depression, anger and inability to get well. I don't know if my continued diatribe about my depression is helpful to anyone, myself included.)

I'm cranky, irritable and at times am feeling a rage swelling inside me. The anger is mostly focused at myself and my inability to manage to help myself get better...either by somehow influencing a/any medicine to work, and by doing the things I keep being told to do in order to get well...for example:

eat well,
get some decent, cardio exercise...other than dragging my sorry slow ass for a painfully slow walk with the dog...(painful for me, because even slow seems completely exhausting...and painful for the dog because all he wants to do is run.)
sit under my lightbox
challenge my thoughts
read
get my sleep schedule/wake schedule the same everyday
don't eat sugar, so many carbs, eat more veggies
take my vitamins

...yadda, yadda, yadda.

I feel like screaming I am so angry with myself for not being able to, or willing to, or trying to, or whatever the hell it is...do something to save myself.

I feel enraged also, by all the "helpful" ideas in psychiatry/psychology that seem to presuppose some magic energy resource or will, or that the ability to motivate oneself exists in me, and people like me.

Maybe it's true...like I think sometimes...that I am the only one who fails to get better, 0ver and over and over again Otherwise, why do people always tell me to do things that I can't seem to do because I'm to exhausted/amotivated to do them....because I have an illness that exhausts, overwhelms, and robs me of all your desire, ability, and motivation to actually DO SOMETHING to help myself.

If others with this illness have these same difficulties why the hell do doctors and therapists and studies, and papers and books and friends and family keep telling me to do all the things I feel unable to do?

Am I crazy, 0r does this sound as crazy as a hockey coach screaming at a tiny kid; who knows how to walk and run pretty well, but who has never been on the ice, or in skates, to speed skate, intuitively know how to handle the puck and get a goal when they aren't even able to skate yet; or like a doctor telling a person with no legs to just walk around the block a few times a day and they will feel better; or like telling Cinderella to go find a prince to marry when she is so busy trying to clean up after, and appease her evil siblings' and stepmother's demands, and to even just protect herself, that she doesn't even know a world outside her abusive existence exists.

SURPRISE! I am really depressed right now. I feel overwhelmed with life, and once again underwhelmed by my depression treatment plan. I am pretty sure that even if something helps it will only help a bit, or for a while, or it, like everything else I've tried will simply stop working. I am pretty sure I have lost my old life; my old me.

It's not acceptance I am feeling...but an internal rage at losing what I valued so much...my joie de vive, my adventurousness, my wildness, my positive outlook (yes, I did say that...I used to have a pretty bubbly positive outlook about the awesomeness of life)...and my lust for life.

I do not want to live if it means living without those things. I don't want to continue taking medication, continue psychiatric treatment, continue existing, if it means I have to accept the dullness, ineptness, anxiousness, sadness, fatigue, blah, blah, blah my life has become.

My Mom used to tell me I would get better when I accepted I had an illness. I think I accept I have an illness. I just don't want it anymore and I feel completely helpless, and hopeless, that I will ever be able to stop my symptoms.

...it was intensely difficult to write the word "helpless" in that last paragraph. I feel like I have fought so hard to try to help myself, but nothing ever works, nothing I do ever changes how I feel for any length of time...Maybe it's time to give up trying. It is this intense feeling of helplessness that enrages me. I feel like a caged wild animal. Caging an animal just isn't right. Wildness tamed is just a captive. No thing, no being, wants to live as a captive.

Am I BeingSpied On

2009-10-31T13:42:00.004-07:00

Am I being spied on? Am I doing something wrong that I should worry about being spied on?

I feel really rattled right now. I just had a most uncomfortable interaction with my landlord and I cannot shake the feeling that he is spying on me and came to my door to interrogate me. The conversation was very stilted, sounded planned, and awkward. I wish I just had the courage and conviction to tell people things are none of their business.

What happened:
My landlord, "C" rang my doorbell. I answered,as my door was open and he could see I was in...I probably wouldn't have answered if that weren't the case. I would have shrunk into the shadows and pretended I was not home, because he and is family scare me.

When I answered he asked me how I was doing...but the tone wasn't a polite, light conversational opener type "how are you"...it was more demanding information sounding. The reason I say this is because upon my saying okay he immediately asked me if I was working.

This question caught me completely off guard...though it shouldn't have because I stress everyday about him, or his family learning I am on a leave from work. He was just so blunt. It was weird. I didn't have time to think of how I could protect myself, and maintain my privacy...so I blurted out, yes I am working.

Immediately I thought ...He is asking me these questions in his professional "insurance adjuster" capacity. This belief was further enhanced when his next question immediately popped out of his mouth: What do you teach?

I could feel myself getting increasingly stressed...how do I answer without being dishonest, but also without telling an insurance adjuster I am working. The last thing I need is for him to think I am being dishonest by being on disability, but still working.

Note:(In reality I am not "working" in the sense that would be construed as fraudulently collecting disability insurance and working on the side. I "work" (volunteer) in an art clubhouse where teaching classes is a part of a mental illness rehabilitation program)

Regardless, of what a big part of me understands is my rehabilitation as opposed to my fraudulently working...I am so scared by all his questions.

I told him I teach printmaking and mixed media art classes. His questions kept coming...he asked twice how my boyfriend was...and he had an look of concern/perturbation on his face that was so strong that I asked him if everything was okay with me as a tenant.

Am I doing okay as a tenant? Are there any problems with my being here?, I asked. At this point I was almost on the verge of tears, and could feel myself overheating because of the stress. He said no, I was a perfect tenant.

Why then is he asking me all these questions? (His Dad has asked me about my working, and a couple times asked me why I am not at work too. I feel so uncomfortable with these questions, but I cannot think of what to say to avoid answering)

Then he asked me if I had the internet hooked up. I did this morning I told him. He then asked if I wanted to share the connection with him; me paying half and he the other half. Immediately I became intensely paranoid again. I asked him about how that might affect my privacy, i.e. if he had access to my connection via wifi/or shared connection could he see what I was doing online? Does anyone out there know the answer to this? How secure is my browsing/laptop info if I share with him, especially given he has the computer skills to spy?

When "C" left I almost got sick. I am freaking out right now...I revealed so much...told him I was working, said I'd think about a shared connection etc. He then asked me if I had my new computer. I told him I was getting one soon.

He offered to help me get a computer saying he had vendor connections. He asked me what I used it for..and I overshared and gave out too much information. Rather than say it was none of his business, I said that would be great...but inside I kept thinking he was doing this so he could install some kind of spyware on my computer so he could monitor me/spy on me.

Every time I see him, or his sister or Dad I freak out and hide in my suite until they are gone. I think I do this because I feel scrutinized and criticized at best, and spied on at worst.

I want to think I am imagining all my fears of spying, and I keep trying to reassure myself and act like I have a right to be off work and taking care of myself without fear of getting in trouble for doing things "worklike" to try to rehabilitate myself, and get back to real work and a life worth living...but more and more I think I really am being spied on.

Am I being spied on? Or am I delusional? What do those reading this post and my recent experience think?

Note: He works for a giant insurance company, has seen me receive mail from my employer's HR department every two weeks, lives in the house my suite is in so sees me home all the time, always seems uncomfortable around me and way too snoopy.

This is so stressful. Every time I leave my suite I look first to see if anyone in the house is here to see me at home (again), because I am so afraid of being seen as not working. I try to plan to stay away for at least 1/2 days if I go out...so it at least looks as though I might have at least a part time job. I am getting worn out by trying to pretend all the time...or by trying to reassure myself that it doesn't matter what his family, or him know about me. I really don't believe it doesn't matter, and I really believe something weird /nefarious is going on.

Online Disconnecting and Reconnecting

2009-10-31T10:25:00.004-07:00

I'm back...PHEW!

Going completely offline for a month and a half was eye opening. During that time I accessed the Internet only a couple of times. It surprised me how easy it was to disconnect. I thought I would have withdrawal.

If you had asked me before I stopped accessing the Internet, if I thought it were possible to "electronically disconnect" for such a long time I would have said no.

I am glad I did disconnect because it showed me a couple things:

I am much more aware that given my low mood I have limited energy to use and I need to choose carefully the activities that provide me real life value.
Far too much of my available energy and time was previously spent online.
That "real" life activities and interactions are extremely important to my helping myself manage my mood. This does not mean "online" life activities and friends are not extraordinarily important to me...they are...it just means that I cannot spend all my spare time online. It isn't good for me.
I missed my online friends, but I did not miss the Internet very much at all...I wasted a lot of time online just surfing to nowhere.

The biggest and most surprising discovery:

5. I always wondered if my spending time online focusing on my depression, its symptoms, my difficulties, pain, fears etc. via my blog, and through reading, and interacting with other blogs/bloggers, made me stay depressed, or fed my depressive symptoms.

I do not see that it did at all. My mood did go up a bit this past month and a half, but I started a new medicine and I think it lifted my mood. The past couple weeks, despite not having and online influences, my mood crashed again...so I think it is my brain that is the biggest culprit in terms of affecting my mood and mood cycling.

Anyways, I really did miss interacting with my online friends, and I missed the creative process of writing. Now that I am "connected" again I am going to focus on staying connected with others here and on your sites. It might take me time to catch up, but I will.

I Wish My Family Members Cared Enough to Become Informed

2009-09-19T16:08:00.010-07:00

Please do not treat me like I am not trying hard enough, or if only I tried harder all would fall into place. Severe and Chronic Major Depression is not like that...not for me anyways.

Me: "Sister I need help. I don't know what to do anymore. I am so tired all the time. You know how people with cancer or hepatitis feel so tired they can't do anything? I feel like that. Exhausted. I am scared. I have suicidal thoughts all the time. I am so sick I want to give up. I won't because I love you and our family so much, but I can't handle this anymore. I need help."

Sister: "You are not sick. You do not have cancer, or hepatitis, or any other illness. All you need to do is get doing things. Get busy. Go kayaking, go for a walk, do your art."

Me: "I have an illness that makes it hard to do things most times. I have no energy. I am sick."

Sis: "You are not sick, you don't have an illness. You are depressed."

etc., etc.

I am lost. I really am sick. Last week I asked my sisters to call me every couple days, just to let me know they love me and care about me, I felt it would help me stay here. I felt really proud of myself for asking for help. Once again though, I reached out for help and have been pushed away.

I am so depressed I am having a hard time functioning. No one sees it. Not the Art clubhouse, where I have tried to explain I need some concessions during this time; not my family...who are telling me not to phone.

On some level my boyfriend is there for me and I really appreciate his being there, but I brought up the fact that I wanted to go to the hospital for ECT and he flipped out; saying if I went to the hospital I would be abandoning him.

I tried to explain that my going to the hospital was nothing about abandoning him, and everything about taking care of myself. He said:, "Don't turn this around." (as though I am abandoning him, but just excusing it by saying I am helping myself???? I don't get it.

He constantly denies I am depressed, or that I have anything to be depressed about. The latter may be true, but from my perspective it seems I am depressed...even if most others in my life don't think so. I really get confused with his attitude, given he has a mental illness and is depressed himself.

I feel so intensely frustrated that those closest to me are telling me I do not feel, or look like I am, depressed. I feel like screaming I am so frustrated. I know I must annoy others...but imagine what I feel like, never getting well....nothing ever working.

I do have a couple people who are very supportive. My friend E is a saint. I feel blessed that she continues to listen to me and be by my side. Same with Dr. X. My boyfriend too, despite his denial of my depression, stays by me and holds me when I need to be held. I have met a new friend to...A and she is so sweet. I hope I can be the friend all these people need when they need a friend.

You might think it was a blessing for others to believe you capable of big things, but sometimes, when a person like me is extremely ill it is hard for others to see such a "strong" person needs help.

Please, if a family member has a mental illness, and is struggling, please take the time to educate yourself about what your family member is struggling with. I feel abandoned and dismissed by my family. I love them so much, yet given I have struggled for years and years, have lost my job, and have basically lost my interest in life...I feel pretty hurt that they have not taken any time, or effort to educate themselves about how these mental illnesses impact the people who have them.

I feel like they do not love me enough to even spend an afternoon at a depression information session, or to read about what it is like to live with severe and treatment resistant depression, or even to come over to my place and go see Dr. X with me. I feel really alone when it comes to my family. So alone I cannot even express it in words...

Will This Pain Ever Really End?

2009-09-15T21:00:00.001-07:00

(William Blake, "Pity" 1795, Tate Gallery)

Like in Blake's painting...I feel like a woman who has had her child, albeit in my case, her inner child, ripped from inside her. Is it wrong to feel angry...even enraged, about my situation? Today I felt like walking into the hospital screaming, "HELP ME!...SOMEBODY FUCKING HELP ME!" I cannot take it anymore. I don't know how to get better.

Of course, I fucking "know" how to get better. Do all the goddamn things everyone tells me to do to get better. Get some exercise, see my friends, make more friends, call the friends I have, call old friends, smile more, look straight ahead, not at the ground, quit shuffling your feet, clean your house, challenge my negative thinking, stop thinking in black and white, go to church, read, go to school, take art classes, connect with my family, eat less, eat better, cook better, draw, paint, teach, take better care of myself, bathe more, dress better, tidy my house, get back to work, budget my money, breathe properly, let go, stop thinking about myself, stop crying, stop being self absorbed, do more, think less, drink more water, take vitamins, take supplements, go to sleep early, get up earlier, stop coffee, drink no alcohol, canoe, ski, hike, camp, work sing, paint, create, love people, stop being angry...STOP BEING ANGRY! STOP BEING DEPRESSED...you have everything you need. So many people have so much less than you and they are happy. Stop thinking about suicide. Participate in therapy, Do what you are supposed to do. Take your medication/s. Depression is treatable. You are just not trying hard enough.

So they say...but how do these things if I am so depressed I cannot do these things. How do I do these things if nothing I try, including medications, ever helps for any length of time?

I love Dr. X. I love him as a therapist, a clinician, and on some level, as a valued friend and family member. I trust him, his knowledge, his ability to help others, his ability to help people manage their mental illnesses. I know he cares about me and my welfare. He wants to see me well. I know he tries so hard to help me...but I think I am "unhelpable".

When I met him I felt so relieved that finally someone was helping me who knew how to help me. I felt so lucky to have met such a patient, compassionate and caring psychiatrist. Finally, I felt I was in good hands. ...and I was, and I am.

I still think I am in good hands. I still think Dr. X is extremely intelligent and knowledgeable about Major Depression and Bipolar Disorder, other Mental Illnesses and their treatments. I still believe he is a great psychiatrist. I even think that for many with a "treatment resistant" depression he is likely able to help them.

I think the problem is that my depression is not "treatment resistant", rather it is "absolutely unresponsive". I feel angry because if I had a physical illness that caused this much pain I would be given something to at the very least stop the pain. If my illness was physical, I could get some relief. I have no idea what a similar "pain medication" would look like for severe depression...maybe morphine to knock me out, to not allow me to feel, or some kind of heavy duty tranquillizer combined with an extended stay in some kind of long term care place...like what a sanitarium was supposed to be.

I completely understand why some people with mental illnesses, especially chronic ones, turn to hard drugs. Last night even I was thinking...maybe if I got some heroin, and just injected enough to relieve some of this pain...even for a while, it might be worth it.

If there is nothing out there that helps me...how will I keep going? Better question is WHY would I keep going. I do not understand what I did to make this be happening to me. I always tried to be a good person. I feel like I must have done something really bad in my past life, or in this life, to be left feeling like this for so long. I feel like I am in Hell.

Diary of Obsessive or Intrusive Suicidal Thoughts

2009-09-13T19:18:00.002-07:00

Rembrandt van Rijn Abraham and Isaac 1634. Oil on canvas 158 x 117 cm (62 x 46 in.)

may trigger...includes suicidal thoughts.

My sister called me and told me my 9 year old niece had been told about sex by a couple kids at school. My niece got it into her head that it was an awful thing to know about and that she would get in trouble for knowing about it. She began acting really strange and my sister asked her what was wrong...and she blurted it all out..full of all her nine year old angst about thinking such bad thoughts.

She told her Mom that when the kids told her she could not get the images and thoughts out of her mind and the more she tried to get rid of them the more she thought about them.

My sister, being the loving and level headed Mom she is asked her what thoughts she was having. At first my niece was horror struck by the thought of sharing such awful thoughts with her Mom. So my sister explained to my niece that we all have tons of thoughts, some even awful, going through our heads all the time. They are just thoughts. They can't hurt us.

To prove the point she said to my niece, "I'll show you...over the next few minutes, while we are driving I will say out loud all the thoughts I have. So she began:

What was she thinking...that dress is awful (seeing some woman dressed in a "bad" dress.
Look at him!
I'm so hungry
Brandi made me so mad today
argh, why are people such crappy drivers
etc., etc.

My niece started laughing at how her Mom was being so nosy about other people's business. So my sister asked her what the thoughts about sex were. What did the girls say? My niece looked straight at her horrified. "They said babies are made by kissing. That is so gross. It's not true is it?"

I wish my intrusive thoughts were about kissing. Here is how they manifest themselves in me...over and over and over again. I spend a lot of time considering, planning and trying to push myself to commit suicide. I notice, now that I have seen the thoughts written down, trying to find reasons why that might not be a good idea (at least for my dog).

Here is a stream of consciousness example of the thoughts that have gone through my head in the last 5 minutes. I have these thoughts throughout the day, almost everyday.

Please know they are only thoughts. I have had these kinds of thoughts during every depressive episode I have ever had. I have never attempted suicide.

On a huge level I know they are only thoughts...but I feel so worn down by both them and my depression. I wish I could get rid of them. Also, while I am having them I don't feel I am aware they are only thoughts...it feels like I am trying to compel myself to commit suicide.

Your life is a waste.
kill yourself.
do it.
you have the means
you could take all your hoarded pills.
my head is so heavy.
I feel sick.
I don't want to live anymore.
why live when everyday is a struggle to live.
kill yourself.
you could leave a note on the door for someone to get your dog afterwards.
Or you could e-mail dr.x and let him now you are dead and the dog needs help.
but that's awful, how could I even think doing that would be okay.
imagine how he would feel if I did that.
After all he has done for me.
I'm evil for thinking the way I do.
I just don't know how to keep trying when I feel so depressed.
Why do I have to feel like this.
I'm not evil, I just can't take it anymore.
Why do I never get better.
I have done this to myself.
I have destroyed my life.
I wish I would die.
Why do I have to live?
Why can't I just go and have everyone know it is better for me to go.
I could hang myself.
It would feel so good for my head to be gone.
that tree in the park.
the one with all the huge limbs.
I could climb up to the top and...
what about Skookum.
I could tie him to the base of the tree.
Someone would find him.
What if a bad person found him?
I could leave a note on myself with my sister's #.
my sister would take him.
what if no one found me soon enough.
What if got attacked by coyotes?
what if he starved to death before someone found him?
I can't do that to him.
How can I die and make it be okay for everyone else?
It's not like there are many "everyone else's".
The people I do love really matter.
I wish I could get better.
God I am so sick of myself.
imagine what it is like for everyone around me.
I wish I could be put to sleep.
Euthanized.
Then I would die and not fuck up and end up brain-damaged and still alive.
I couldn't handle that.
WTF...I can't handle this.
Please make all this stop.
etc., etc., etc.

I really am amazed I have lasted this long with such ideas in my head. I just noticed too that I talk to myself in the 2nd person...like I'm distancing myself from my self.

I'm an Afterthought...and that hurts.

2009-09-11T10:16:00.001-07:00

I feel like just sitting in my corner chair and staring, or laying in bed all day...waiting impatiently for each minute, each hour, each day to end.

Dr. X says...(I am paraphrasing with my understanding of what he said...I can't remember exactly what he said), I need to hold on to the moments of happiness, or the moments of joy I do have. That if my mood remains like this I need to try to recognize there are moments that I enjoy.

That is not the life I want. I do not feel a life with extended periods of intensely painful and severe depression symptoms punctuated by brief moments worth experiencing is, for me, a life worth experiencing.

I know, and believe that for some people this might work, or sustain them. I think I used to manage by knowing this would pass, and things would get better. I no longer believe that. I am so tired of trying, and failing to get well.

I am so sick of trying treatments, therapy, medicines that never work, tired of trying to explain what is going on to my family (who I love so immensely it hurts). It hurts so much that I love them and need them and want so badly for them to understand me, to reach out, to help me...and they don't seem to get how much I need them.

I was thinking about why, at 44, I still so desperately need my family's approval, love and support. It feels so childish. I realized yesterday that a life is worth experiencing and living if you have someone who thinks of you on a regular basis. It is as though you really exist if someone wants and needs you here. I mean really needs you...in the way I desperately need my family.

I used to feel my Mom was like that. She would call me and ask how I was, and as if I was okay, or wanted to talk. She always had time for me. She went out of her way to love me, to visit me, to include me in all family functions. I remember thinking there was something pathological about how much I needed my Mom all the time. I was very independent and too care of myself, but always there was an underlying need to be loved by my Mom. It seemed unadult like on one hand, but on the other hand her love sustained me through even the worst of the worst.

Now I feel like my Dad and Stepmom see me as the "problem child" and have taken a ..."wait til she hits rock bottom stance"...as though I were an addict in need of toughlove, rather than mentally ill. I feel as though they actually avoid me.

note: I don't believe addiction is treatable with toughlove...I think it is an illness too. I think all humans need love and compassion to fulfill themselves.

My sisters' have their own family's to worry about...so I am a passing thought. I feel so alone. I feel lie a burden. I feel like I am an afterthought, a sister and daughter who has completely disappointed her family. I feel avoided. I want my Mom back.

What if Nothing Ever Works? Is Life Worth Living?

2009-08-25T19:36:00.006-07:00

This post is just another blah, blah, blah about how desperate I feel. Please do not read if you are annoyed by me and my morose being, or if you are triggered by dark thoughts.

I am not writing this to reach out, or to help anyone. I am writing this because the urges and images inside me are overwhelming me. I need to get all these bad thoughts out of my head...I guess in a sick way my writing like this is a coping strategy.

Given my decision to write this blog, not just for myself, but for others to read, I often find myself afraid to write what I really feel. I try really hard to be genuine and honest, but sometimes I feel my unrelenting, chronic illness, its symptoms, my thoughts and behaviour might annoy, overwhelm, trigger, or burden other people.

This feeling of overwhelming and burdening others happens in my "real" life too. I feel if I share the truth, speak the truth, open up completely to my family and friends it places a heavy load on their shoulders. What the hell are they supposed to do with the information? It feels selfish to share such detailed and frightening imagery and information with them. So I keep the heaviest part of my load inside me, and then days like today happen and I feel like the load will tip me over and flatten me.

I have been sitting here on the verge of tears for the past few hours. At one point I called my Dad, ostensibly about something he might be able to help me with, but really I wanted to scream..."help me". Reason took over. My Dad doesn't even think I need help...definitely not the person to reach out to.

When my Stepmon asked me how I was, I so desperately wanted to reach out for help. I heard my voice quiver. About to break into tears I managed to squeak out, "fine". She did not notice and took my "fine" at face value.

I am not fine. My suicidal thoughts are so strong right now. I was in the gas station today, staring at the packages of rope. My brain kept saying buy it, buy it, buy it...do it, do it, do it. I managed to move away from the rope, only to be drawn to it again...three or four times. I left the gas station with no rope, but not without an intense desire to die.

How do people survive chronic MDD. As the years go by with nothing able to help me for any length of time Iam losing my resolve, my will to fight, my desire to live. I cannot see how it is possible to keep trying when I still feel so much severe depressive pain, isolation, fatigue, attention difficulties, memory loss and amotivation...these things have completely destroyed me.

I had lots of friends, went to school, worked hard, , both physically and socially. I did everything you are supposed to do to have a happy life.

I am not the person I see inside me now. I have become some monster. I have become the epitome of hell. I have become an empty vessel, an inanimate being, the living dead.

I am a zombie; dead inside, but walking directionless, searching and praying for a way to make the death destroy my shell as well. Why did this happen to me. I always tried so hard to be alive, vivacious and passionate about my life, and other people's lives.

Now, everywhere I look I find myself searching for a way out of this life. I see an car accident taking me away, a truck running me over, a rope hanging me in a tree, a dog leash and choke chain slipped around my neck and over the bathroom door, a leap from the Alex Fraser Bridge, a fall in front of the train, ...a note pasted on my door...someone help my dog.

What's Wrong?

2009-08-21T20:42:00.001-07:00

I adore and love my boyfriend "I". He is one of the most interesting, funniest, warmest, sweetest and sexiest men I have ever known. I am at a loss in one area though. I feel really confused when the topic of my mood disorder comes up. It is as though he is in complete denial that I am depressed.

He "knows" I am depressed. We met at an art clubhouse for people with severe and persistent mental illnesses. That is one of the criteria for joining this particular art program. We both have mental illnesses. We have talked about how important it is for us to support and care for each other both when we are well and when we are ill.

"I"'s perspective on mental illness has been extremely complicated by his father committing suicide when he was a child. It becomes even more complex when you learn his father was a psychiatrist.

This is how the conversation that confounds me goes:

I: How are you.
Me: I am not feeling well.
I: Why not?
Me: I am depressed.
I: What are you depressed about?
Me: I don't know. No reason. I just feel intensely depressed. It never seems to be about anything. It just comes upon me for no reason.

This conversation may seem innocuous, but the fact that I have to tell him I am depressed, and that he wonders why I am not feeling well, and what I am depressed about...over and over and over...makes me feel really misunderstood.

I have tried to explain my symptoms to him; my suicidal ideation, my severely low mood, the fatigue, the amotivation, the anxiety etc. He sees me cry, and unable to clean, or cook, or do much of anything, but he keeps telling me I am not depressed and/or asking me why I am depressed. Having all these symptoms is depressing. How can he not understand that.

I have to admit that I hold back when I tell him how depressed I am. He is still traumatized by his Dad's suicide. I do not want to trigger him by talking openly about my suicidal ideation; especially because I ideate about hanging myself over and over throughout the day, everyday. His father hung himself.

While I do not relay the vivid details, I do express that I am desperate, that I want to go in for ECT, and that I cannot manage this illness much longer. He sees that I see Dr. X each week. For some reason he thinks I do not need to see a psychiatrist. He says I am not sick.

I think he sees me as being funny, supportive, loving and functioning maybe on a level above many who have the same symptoms I do. Maybe what he sees and experiences does not match what I feel, or what I tell him I feel. Maybe his experience of his own depression is different. Maybe this suggests to him I am not as depressed as I think I am.

He is so wrong. I am so depressed I feel like I might not survive if something doesn't change very soon.

What's wrong?

I have to take so much medicine, just to still feel this bad...a Mood Stabilizer,an antidepressant, sleep medication(another antidepressant), thyroid medication, and a stimulant)
I cannot stay out of bed I am so exhausted.
I can't eat properly both because I cannot walk, or drive three blocks to the grocery store to buy decent, healthy food, and because I have enough energy and motivation to eat Cheetos and cereal...that's it.
I feel sick inside all the time...physically sick, like I can barely move, am nauseous and I feel blah.
I want to crawl into a fetal position and pray my life will end
I see ways to kill myself everywhere I go: a car crash, pills, a bus running me over, being hit by a car as I cross the street, falling from a bridge, drowning in the ocean etc...
I feel dissociated much of the time; detached, depersonalized.
I feel desperately isolated, alone, lonely. I feel so alone through this. It is impossible for anyone to understand what this feels like. There is no one who understands the level of depression I feel.

I want to kill myself, I want to die, I don't want to live if this is what my life will be like...that is what is wrong.

Invalidated

2009-08-20T15:00:00.002-07:00

Sometimes my therapy works to help me understand why certain patterns repeat in my life over and over again. Today's therapy was like that.

Therapy always leaves me feeling "heard", and (mostly) understood. This is something intensely important for me. I think today's session revealed why these two things are extremely interconnected and even more importantly, why they are so important to me and my well-being.

I just returned from a short vacation at a horse ranch and spa in the B.C. interior. I went with my beau, my friend E and my sister and 2 nieces. I haven't seen my sister for a while. When she came to my house in preparation to leave she told my boyfriend and I that my Dad might "pop in" to the ranch to visit.

This information put a damper on my vacation from the start. I love my Dad, but he is often not very nice to me. I find him very difficult to be around. To me it seemed intrusive for him to jut show up.

When I mentioned my stress about Dad coming my sister began saying things like:

"He's not like that".
"You need to give him a chance".
"He does not treat you poorly".
"He is always nice to you".
"You know Dad, he just doesn't know how to talk, and you make it worse by getting hurt by him"
"You have to get over your problems with Dad"

I felt completely letdown by my sister. She has seen my Dad reduce me to tears more times than probably I can remember. She hears and watches him ruthlessly tease me and belittle me. I thought she recognized why I so often feel hurt by how it treats me. Apparently, according to her, Dad isn't the instigator, in fact, he does not treat me poorly at all. It is just my wrong perceptions that hurt me.

I am willing to concede, that after years of emotional, and at times when I was a child and a young teenager, physical abuse, that I am sensitive to how he treats me. I know sometimes I overreact to small triggers. I believe though, that this overreaction is not my fault, but the fault of a man, who is supposed to be my father, continuing to abuse me, and destroy what little self-esteem I have left. At times I think he belittles me, and holds back his love from me, for the fun of it, just to watch me fall apart and cry.

It is funny (not ha, ha...but strange funny) that this weekend when my sister and I were canoeing near my Dad's canoe, we sped up really fast and in unison yelled, "Dad, look at us". We both cracked up when we realized some small child inside ourselves was still screaming, "Daddy, Daddy, look at me, look at me".

To make things worse my sister also began lecturing me on how:

"no wonder you are depressed. you sleep so much, how are you ever going to get well if all you do is sleep?". (this comment came 1/2 way through the vacation, just when I was marvelling at my ability to do as much as I was, when I felt as depressed as I felt)
"If you did more you would get better" (neglecting that to do more I would need to have the missing motivation, energy, and mood, and ability to do more...all these have been ripped from me throughout this MDD
" You are never going to be someone unless you get doing things." Translation: your life will never amount to anything if you do not get back to work. You are choosing to stay depressed. You are only an important person if you are working and contributing to society.

There were more comments like these throughout her lectures...the thing that really hurt me, was that I thought she was the sister that understood how hard I try. I thought she understood how depressed I am, and how that impacts my ability to do things.

On top of this my boyfriend talked to me about how, "You are not sick, nothing is wrong with you" A statement that left me feeling really unheard, and misunderstood. It is not that I want to be sick, or seen as sick, but I also do not want others to think nothing is wrong with me, and I am just to lazy to try harder in my life.

I talked to Dr. X about what went on with my sister and my boyfriend, but I could not really place why I felt as hurt as I did. Dr. X said maybe it was because I felt invalidated by their comments.

That is EXACTLY what I felt and feel when these kinds of discussions take place. My family is not listening to me. They are not understanding how difficult this battle is for me. I feel like I am battling for my life, but they do not even acknowledge I am in a battle. They see my difficulties as a character flaw.

Dr. X and I discussed how both my sisters', and my Dad's expectations of performance are mirroring the malevolent feelings of guilt I have about not working; how the family belief system is so ingrained in all of us that it just keeps replicating this guilt, and guilt inducing, behaviour in everyone in our family. It is true. I belittle and poke and prod myself to do more, do something, get going, get active....Get better...get back to work. I have become the voice of my father, and the voice of my sister...that why it hurts so much to hear. I am hearing the same guilt producing words I hear every single day from myself.

I know my sisters both love me. I think my Dad probably does too. When I realize their voices are replicating negative patterns that are held deep within our family's psyche. I recognize these thoughts and feelings are held unconsciously, and so deeply they may always be there.

On many levels I know my sisters, my Dad, and my boyfriend are really trying to help me. I understand they may see their comments as encouraging, and helpful. I think they want what is best for me. Sadly, when I hear these kinds of comments I feel he exact opposite: I feel unbearably guilty, alone, unheard, and invalidated.

20 (More) Things I Love

2009-08-15T08:42:00.006-07:00

I am sitting in a black pit of depression. My sister and nieces are coming over tonight and her, my friend E and my boyfriend are going on a vacation together. I hate it when I am this depressed around my favourite people (well her and her kids are "one" of my favourite families...my other sister and her family are my other favourite;>))

When I feel this depressed, even with all the love, all the people I love, and all the things I love to do surrounding me..I feel nothing but my emptiness and almost an intensified depression. I don't know why, but sometimes I feel even more alone than when I am really alone.

I do not believe in "the power of positive thinking". I think those who suggest that thinking positively will make good things happen are suffering from a bout of magical thinking. This does not mean I do not believe positive thinking is a good thing.

I definitely believe that gathering all the good things in my life together and making lists of things I feel good about, grateful for, or that increase the likelihood of my being happy, if only for a while, even a brief moment; I absolutely believe that focusing attention on the things I DO have helps me at least momentarily. I also know that for me it sometimes takes my attention away from all my morbid and self loathing thoughts.

These lists are never easy to start, but once I begin I can usually think of more things than I expected I would be able to. This list was started because I read Eliza Jane's post about reading my post of the 20 things I love...kind of funny, but here I go:

I love the smell of the dirt in the early evening, on a hot summer day

I love long walks in my bare feet in the wet sand left behind by a retreating tide

I love tidal pool full of starfish, sea anemones and all kind of tiny little creatures.

I love seeing wildlife when I go for a walk, or am on the ocean; white tailed deer, elk, raccoons, squirrels, chipmunks, skunks, crows, whales, dolphins, all kinds of fish...and a couple times a black bear...I love all animals.

I love it in the morning when my dog wakes up and pushes his head into my belly and gives me a "hug".

I love a (reasonably) warm summer day.

I love a crisp autumn day...sweater weather is my favourite time of year.

I love looking over at my boyfriend in bed and seeing him sleeping like a baby. he is so beautiful I wish I could capture that moment forever.

I love those flitting, seductive kisses where you look into your partner's eyes and kiss softly, and pull back, and kiss lightly again, and tease, and touch lips, and so on, and so forth. I love the feeling that rushes through my body during these kisses.

I love the intense and deep kisses that happen during lovemaking, when you and your partner are trying to take each other deeper into your being.

I love sharing stories with friends and/or partners late into the night. It is the feeling of growing closer and closer with each shared story that intensifies my relationships with others. (sort of like logging and reading blogs).

I love my family: my boyfriend, my two sisters,my nieces, and my dad and stepmom.

I love going for coffee with my girlfriends E and H. Actually I love spending time with them anytime.

I love, and look forward to seeing Dr. X. Even if I feel awful he always calms me and helps me feel a bit of hope. He is such a beautiful human being. Very much like my Mom.

I love seeing the moon in the sky. I see it as a symbol representing my Mom...so when I see it I always say, "Hi Mom". It makes me fell like maybe, just maybe, some part of her still exists and is loving, watching over and protecting me.

I love an interesting movie. Here are a couple I recently saw and found fascinating... "Chapter 27"(about John Lennon's killer's state of mind...very interesting. Despite what he did, I found myself feeling so compassionate for him), "Million Dollar Hotel", (about some mentally ill patients truly lost in a SRO hotel)

I love it when I finally get the energy to paint and hours go by and I find I was completely lost in my painting...not a single bad thought...just creative energy flowing from hand to brush to canvas.

I love reading my blogger friends blogs. They inspire me, and make me feel less alone.

I love cooking for other people. I can't manage to cook for myself, but on Tuesdays I join my boyfriend and we cook for about 20 people. I love it and always put a lot of thought and effort into the meal. For some reason cooking for all these people seems easier than even making myself toast. go figure.

I love the a good massage, the smells, sounds and feel of horses, a horseback ride and swimming...and that is what I am doing for a few days this week. I am going to a relaxing dude ranch to do some dude ranch stuff...like rides, and spa treatments and farm animal sightings, and multiple swims in the pool everyday...

Yeehah!! Ride em cowboy!!!"

Resisting Trust

2009-08-14T10:56:00.001-07:00

In my last post, "What a Difference a Day Makes", rather than feeling better, (I am not), I think despite feeling unwell I was able to have some insight into how my perception of other's motives might be skewed by my own beliefs about how I want and need to be supported when I am unwell.
I feel like I had an epiphany about other people. It seems obvious now that I have embraced the idea, but I am NOT the centre of the universe. Ha, ha...sort of:>( I often worry that I am narcissistic...can you be narcissistic if you think you might be? Hmmm).

Given that others deal with their depression in many different ways, it is probable, and even likely, that if they try to support me or you, or help us, they will do so in the way they understand to be helpful to them. This may or may not be the way in which you want to be supported or helped.

I know I try hard to approach friends difficulties the way I think they might need supporting, but I bet I get it completely wrong much of the time, because of my reference point. I need love and affection, nothing that indicates dismissiveness, or anger, and honest feedback.

I realize now that I block people from providing me with honest feedback because I so often feel hurt and criticized by what others perceive as honesty and even support. Difficulty trusting others is a key component to my reacting negatively i.e. fearfully, or hurt) to honest feedback.

I have great deal of difficulty trusting others, even those who consistently prove themselves trustworthy, (eg. Dr X, my boyfriend, friends etc.). I think I have made progress in this area, especially with Dr. X, but I falter all the time.

I remember just last week how intensely hurt I felt by a letter he had written to my Family Doctor (in Canada specialists need re-referrals from the referring physician every 6 mos...seems ridiculous when a psychiatrist has been seeing me this long). In the letter to request a re-refferal he said something like (paraphrase), "Aqua's mood cycles. She sees this component of her mood and is afraid to commit to regular activities". Honestly, I feel okay about what he wrote now because he and I talked about how I felt hurt by his comment.

At the time, after I left his office and read the letter, I was so hurt and angered by his comment. I felt so bad about myself and the way I was, that when I wrote my post, "Concrete and Practical Help" I could not even write about the situation that lead to my needing this help.

I felt like he was saying that I "could" commit to work etc., if only I would; that it was ME stopping myself from committing and not the fact that my mood disorder, my depression, was so intensely unpredictable and severe. It felt completely contrary to what I thought he had been telling me for years; that my mood disorder and its cycling affect my ability to maintain the momentum, motivation, mood, and energy to commit to regular scheduled activities. As I read the letter, all the trust and honesty Dr. X had worked so hard to maintain dissipated in front of me.

Obviously, not ALL the trust disappeared, because I was able to discuss my anger and hurt with him in my next appointment. The discussion helped me understand what his intentions had been. I understood more clearly. What really strikes me today, as I write this, is how, after years and years of building a trustful relationship, I can so suddenly feel hurt and distrustful.

As I read the letter to my physician I tried so hard to tell myself I was mistaken in my interpretation of the words. I tried so hard to believe and understand that Dr. X was so good to me, was so compassionate, honourable and trustworthy. I tried to remember how consistently supportive he has been all these years...but the worm of distrust, suspicion and paranoia kept digging itself into my brain.

...and I wonder why Dr. X and others might be apprehensive and not completely forthcoming about providing me with open and honest feedback. Given my pathological difficulties with trust, given my fear of being punished and plotted against, how can he be sure I will accept his feedback is thoughtful, caring and therapeutic?

Why do I resist trusting people so much?

What a Difference a Day Makes

2009-08-13T20:12:00.006-07:00

I am okay. I will survive. I just so often wish I wouldn't. This is not what I thought my life would be like.

Last night my boyfriend called me and asked if could come over and help.

I have a friend coming in from England (actually she is moving back here) to stay with the next couple days. I had not cleaned my house in a long, long, long time. My floors were filthy, dishes literally ALL dirty, my kitchen a mess, bathroom disgustingly dirty...basically my whole place needed cleaning and I had 24 hours to do it.

Given I had months prior to this to clean and tidy my houset and hadn't been able to, things were not looking positive on the "clean the house" front. My boyfriend asked if he could come over and help me clean the house.

Can you believe that? He's a keeper...really!!!

When I was upset yesterday it was mostly because I was so depressed and needed so desperately to be heard. My friend E called me yesterday and really, really listened. We went for coffee this morning and she listened again. I hope she knows how much that means to me. I feel heard by her, and being heard makes me feel like others get me and can relate...and that I am not as freakish as I feel.

The people who commented on my last post heard me too. Thank you so much. I needed to be cared for and understood.

I know "I" (my b'friend) cares for me. He is so funny and cuddly, so passionate and charming, so thoughtful and kind in so many ways. Today I can see that maybe he approaches my depression and my reaching out the way he needs to be supported or cared for when he is depressed?

Maybe he needs people to tell him he is okay, or to tell him to try harder, or to tell him he can challenge his depression, to tell him it has no control over him? I suspect we each have different needs when it comes to feeling supported. Maybe he was supporting me the only way he knows how? Who knows.

The funny thing is that last night he said to me, "I am sorry I came across as a jesus freak last night" (apologies to anyone who has god in there live)...

I was a bit perplexed until he reminded me that, when he was trying to "help" me, he kept telling me to pray. When I said I didn't believe in god he kept saying sure you do, what is the first thing you do when something really bad happens? I had to laugh because he is right...the first thing I do is say, "Please god, don't let this be happening". Last night he told me that when he was really depressed, after he tried to commit suicide, he went to the mosque everyday and prayed to god.

We support, and show others support in a myriad of ways. I need to know that sometimes my depressive perspective skews my ability to accept feedback. I so often feel criticized when I am depressed. I need to think less about what is actually being said (from my perspective), recognize others have a different perspective than me, and think more about what the person who is speaking to me is like. If they are trustworthy, compassionate, honourable, loving and kind towards me the rest of the time, it is more than likely there ways of supporting me are intended to be that way as well.

Suicidal Ideation

2009-08-12T14:17:00.003-07:00

Last night my boyfriend looked at me and said, "don't go to the hospital. You are not that depressed". A few days back I told him I was thinking of having ECT done again. He was adamant that I not do this.

If I try to express how depressed I am he has a tendency to say, "You are okay", "You aren't depressed", "Your not that depressed". I have tried to explain what it feels like to be inside my head. It never seems to register with him. Either he does not understand how desperate I feel, or he does not want to understand.

I know some of it might be that I try hard to be as okay as possible around him. Two reason drive this: my fear he will leave me if he knows how messed up I am, and my respect and support for his own difficulties with mental illness.

He has attempted suicide before, years ago, and I see the external and internal scars from his internal pain, his sadness, the scars on his arms from cutting. This, and my knowledge that his father committed suicide, stop me from openly and honestly expressing how I feel. I also know he was hospitalized against his will; so I recognize his distrust of the system. I do not want to add to his stress in these areas.

Our relationship feels strong and intensely beautiful in so many ways, but it is new for both of us. I do not want to risk losing him by exposing myself as fully as I need to for him to see how desperate and depressed I feel, for him to understand what I am fighting against, for him to know I need to get better than I am to survive my illness.

He kept saying over and over last night..."you are okay", "You are not that depressed", "We are all depressed", "Just get more exercise", "Push yourself, you just need to force yourself to exercise and it will be better". I found myself sobbing silently beside him, looking the other way, feeling completely misunderstood; my symptoms and their power over me dismissed outright.

Last night, as I sat beside him, I could not say "I am so depressed I want to hang myself". I did not express how my wanting to hang myself is a desire gaining so much power I am afraid I will succumb to it. I did not say these things because his father hanged himself to death, and he attempted suicide in this manner. I was afraid the information would be too much for him to deal with.

I want him to think I am strong and powerful. I want him to feel attracted to me, not repulsed by me...so I cover my true feelings up, and then cry and feel isolated when he does not understand me.

In my life talking about wanting to commit suicide is so taboo that I feel intensely alone in my thoughts. This divide, this avoidance of the awful suicidal ideation I deal with on a regular basis, creates a cavern between myself and the people I love. It makes me feel intensely alone in my struggle to survive my depression. It makes me pull away and isolate myself from those I love.

Today my mood is crashing again, after lifting for a few days. In part I think the fall is a reaction to feeling misunderstood and isolated from my boyfriend and family. When I crashed a few weeks ago, and as I was crashing last night, I tried to reach out or support. Both times I hit a brick wall with my family.

I rarely mention my suicidal urges to my sisters, or my boyfriend. If I do try to be open out of fear and desperation for myself , I sometimes try to explain how depressed I am; "so depressed I don't want to be here" might be what I say to my sisters. Instantaneously they brush my feelings off with an, "Oh, don't say that. How do you think we would feel if you did that?" I know it would hurt them if I commited suicide, but what about me? I hurt all the time.

My sisters do not want to hear how sad I am, and my Dad, he has never once ever asked me if I am okay...not once. He has phoned me to say my stepsister was depressed and needed help. He has told me how crazy he thought my going in for ECT was...4 years after the fact. He has never asked if I was okay, or if I needed help, or if I was having any success with my treatment. He has certainly never asked me if I was at risk of committing suicide. I am.

When my Mom wasalive she was a nurse. She used to talk openly with me about suicide. She would even ask me if I was having suicidal thoughts or urges. With her I would always leave the phone call feeling heard and relieved that someone knew, someone wanted to know. Someone loved me enough to ask and actually listen to my answer. Why is it so important to me that others understand how depressed I am, and how hard it is to be this depressed? I have no idea why.

I wish my family (and my boyfriend) understood how desperate I feel; how much I need and want them to understand me. I want so badly to be able to tell them my truth, for them to talk openly with me even if it is difficult to do, and for them to acknowledge that I am ill. I want them to say this is not my fault. I want them to say, "I AM trying hard enough". I don't want them to feel hurt by me and my awful thoughts, but I need help with them or I am not going to survive.

Whatever...I don't know why I need so desperately to be understood; maybe because I don't understand either. Last night my boyfriend kept saying, "you need to address what is making you depressed. Nothing will get better if you don't change those things".

At that point I began sobbing so hard I had to leave the room. I have been in therapy for years a fact that screams to others and to myself, "things" are causing my depression, and I need to change those things." Despite a sense that there must be things that are making me depressed...I honestly feel like all the things I want to change, would fall into place if I was not depressed.

I would get a job, clean my house, do more things, isolate less, stop obsessing about suicide, dance, play music, ski, eat well, sleep less etc...if only I weren't so severely depressed.

No one wants to acknowledge this raging rhinoceros, named "Suicide", rocketing towards me and racing after me every where I go. So I write here, because at least I can say how I feel.

Things That Make You Go ...Huh???

2009-08-09T14:21:00.001-07:00

I usually let these kinds of ideas wash over me, but this article, "Depression is Not an Illness" is so draconian, and, from my experience, mistaken that I had to respond.

The writer claims to be a retired , licenced psychologist. I worry others will read his post and feel their illness is their fault, or that somehow they are to blame for being depressed. I find it hard to believe that a person could be in the field of helping others...especially as a psychologist, and be so judgemental and mistaken in their understanding of a very difficult to deal with mental illness. My experience has always been that the major depression always shows up before all the activities he suggest cause depression show up/or disappear. My depression leads to my eating poorly, isolating, becoming inactive etc. Not the other way around.

This was my comment to him about his article...long-winded, but in support of all who struggle with MDD (or any other mental illness, I needed to say what I said...

"[My comment on his site...]
I am actually flabbergasted by this post. Not sure if it is satire (I hope so) or for real. I hope you post my response so others like me do not feel blamed for not relieving and avoiding their MDD. In case you don't I am going to post it on my website.

I struggle with MDD. I have had numerous clearly defined episodes throughout my life. Until this current episode I was the epitome of what you suggest makes a person happy, yet I still fell into severe and often lengthy depressive episodes:
good nutrition
- fresh air [I routinely biked, skied, swam outdoors and indoors, hiked, camped, canoed, gardened, walked everywhere was outside much of the time]
- sunshine.[.see above]
- physical activity[...ditto]
- purposeful activity[...worked(loved it), went to school(really, really loved it), danced, played music, created art, wrote, helped others]
- good relationships, [beautiful friendships, very open, nothing we could, and did not talk about.]

For me severe depression really did just pop out of nowhere. There was nothing wrong with my life during these episodes...I had a great life. It was the depression that stopped me in my tracks, not the other way around.

When you wrote, "When things are going well in our lives, we feel good"...I understood immediately that you misunderstand MDD. The sad thing about MDD is that even if things are going well this illness destroys a person's ability to feel good.

I find it difficult to understand how you treat people with depression when you place so much distance and dogma between yourself and your patients. When you say,

"Many of these individuals lived on a diet of soda pop [I can count on my hands the number of sodas I have drank in the last 5 years], cigarettes[don't smoke], and salami sandwiches[I think the last salami sandwich I ate was in high school...I'm 44]. Others drank enormous quantities of alcohol [I used to drink periodically...like many other happy people I know...until I got as severely depressed as I am now. In which case it drove me to drink more to try to help my symptoms]. Few ate vegetables regularly[ was vegetarian.so did well here]. Many stayed indoors almost all the time [see my above list of favourite and common activities]. Physical activity was almost always minimal [ditto]. Purposeful activity – i.e. activity directed towards some kind of goal – was seldom present [university? , and good honest, open relationships almost non-existent...[great friendships?]...

...Chronically depressed people, however,are individuals who have been neglecting these areas for years. They spend the vast majority of their lives indoors, watching television and eating snack food. They are often over-weight, have no goals other than the next TV show, and although they may have many acquaintances, they do not share their concerns and worries in an open and honest manner"

...it struck me that you believe very strongly that "we"are so very different from you. We just don't try hard enough to be happy. If only "we" would try harder, "we" could be as happy as "you".

Have you ever really worked with someone with clinical depression? Contrary to your statement that we are indoorsy, crappy food eating, inactive, solitary, lazy, unfocused, fat, slobs.. [actually slob is my word...it's how i sense we seem to you) people with MDD are a wide range of people...some of us even active, outdoorsy, friendly and friend supporting, anti-t.v., fit and interested and interesting people.

It becomes clear you have never understood what it is to be depressed when you state, "Depression or despondency is not as acute a sensation as pain". In the past I broke both my elbows at the same time, had a severe case of CMV related hepatitis that required hospitalization, have broken my leg, my ankle, my wrist, had three concussions, was injured in a car accident, had a doctor drill into my leg bone for bone marrow, basically have suffered a lot of physical pain.

NOTHING is as painful as severe and chronic MDD. When I broke my elbows I had just come out of the hospital after having ECT. For the first time in years I felt mentally well. I REFUSED any pain medication for my physical pain, for fear that my psychic pain would recur. NOTHING hurts like mental pain...NOTHING.

"It is the Relationship That Heals"

2009-08-07T12:59:00.000-07:00

If this is your psychiatrist or therapist run...

I am always struck by how much support I get in my comments and how many thoughtful people comment. This was going to be a response to the comments in my last post, but it has turned into its own post instead...

I love to hear from people who comment on a regular basis. I feel like over the years I have developed relationships/friendships with many of these people. I also feel really good when I hear from those who rarely or never write. It feels like the beginning of a mutual support system. I am glad my writing reaches out to people. I hope it continues to do so. Your comments often inspire posts...like this one, so comment away.

I write this blog, not just for myself, but also for others trying to work through and battle the same or similar issues and demons. People sometimes comment about how open I am. My original intent for my blog was to try really hard to make this as close to therapy as possible. I wanted to push myself to be open and as completely honest as I thought I needed to be for therapy to work for me.

I also planned to use it to prepare for my therapy sessions, to debrief after my sessions, and to push myself to become brave enough to talk about deeply personal, and often scary thoughts I have. In writing I hoped I am able to show others that therapy is a rewarding, and helpful process, even if it is sometimes really, really hard to fully participate in.

I was hoping that if others could be "insiders" in another person's therapy sessions, if they could see my process, my difficulties, my struggles, my successes, my cycling, my wingbat thoughts and ideas, my creativity, my attempts to get better, and even my failures: I was hoping others might take a chance with their therapist; try hard to open up in therapy, to go to therapy if they never have, to address there darkest secrets, to address any patient/therapist disconnects in therapy, and to find the therapist or psychiatrist that truly fits their needs.

Before I met Dr. X. I had already been to therapy numerous other times each with varying degrees of success, and sadly often failure. With most of the therapists I saw there was either a complete disconnect between myself and them, or if it worked I was in need of a longer course of therapy, and I believe medication which no therapist ever mentioned was available.

I now believe I needed to somehow muster up enough energy to be more of an advocate for myself...Though I know, when severely depressed that may not be possible. If I were to have a second chance to be start at 19 again, if I needed to see a new psychiatrist/therapist, I would approach it as a customer trying to find the best "product"/"service"/treatment for me.

I would be more assertive, have greater expectations, ask more questions and not settle for the first person who comes along. I would have looked for someone like Dr. X from the start. Of course, that is easier said than done.

Below are some of the things I would look for in a psychiatrist/therapist if I had to look again:

When meeting a new psychiatrist or therapist, make a list of the types of behaviours that are important to you in someone you are seeking help from.

Be open to new ideas and approaches.

Ask them questions.

Listen to how they answer your questions. Are they welcoming? Do they sound put off by your questions? Are they caring?, or pushy?, or short?

Do they have time for you?

Are they just medication oriented?

or Do they provide therapy? (I find it really helpful to have a psychiatrist who does both).

Do they LISTEN?

What are there credentials?

What kind of experience do they have treating people like you?

What type of therapy do they practice? I find the less dogmatic about a particular therapy style the better....Use whatever works!

How flexible are they?

Do you feel comfortable around them?

The last sentence...Do you feel comfortable around them? ...is tricky, because many many times, probably during each of my sessions, there is some degree of feeling uncomfortable around Dr. X. Even 8 years into therapy I feel guilty, or ashamed, or afraid, or even angry at him periodically. The test of being comfortable lays in whether I can talk about my uncomfortableness...even if it takes a few sessions.

If I feel he has said or done something I am uncomfortable with, and I can safely work through and see this as an opportunity to discover something about myself and others...then it is indeed a powerful and psychically "comfortable" relationship.

The question I try to ask myself when this happens is whether these feelings are coming from me and my mood or experiences, or whether the psychiatrist or therapist is doing or saying something, that promotes my feeling ashamed, afraid, intimidated etc

I "understand" (in my rational mind) Dr X. is NEVER judgemental, or angry, or pushy, or authoritative, or any other way that might increase or promote my feeling bad in therapy. That does not mean I do not ever feel these things. Who I am, what I have experienced etc. impact my reactions towards all my relationships' experiences and interactions

Some Psychiatrists/Therapists (like some people of every persuasion or occupation) are pushy, or arrogant, or sure whatever they say is right, and the patient knows nothing about helping themselves. They tell the patient to just do whatever they tell them to do etc. This is the kind of therapy/doctor, that I always found did not work for me. For me a good therapist and/or psychiatrist forms a partnership with their patient, values their patients ideas and lets the patient know they are valued

Some of my readers have expressed difficulties, or difficult relationships with, with their psychiatrists and/or therapists. I believe it is important to delving into into why I might feel that way. What kinds of behaviours, exchanges, actions, thoughts are taking place both in and out of therapy that are leading to your feeling a disconnect?

In his book, "Love's Executioner" and in his novels and psychotherapy textbooks, Psychiatrist Irvin Yalom writes and expands upon the idea that, "it is the relationship [between patient & psychiatrist or therapist] that heals". My experiences in therapy with Dr. X have reinforced and proven this to be the case for me.

I try to remember therapy is sometimes difficult. During some phases it can see impossible a lot of the time. As people with depression, or other mental illnesses, (really as people even with no mental illness)... as people period, we may have difficulties with some relationships in the first place; maybe that is even why we are in therapy.

If I find something happening in my sessions that disturbs or perturbs me I always ask myself is the difficulty in therapy the therapist, or have I not opened up and taken the chances I need to take in therapy.

Is it my issue clouding the session,
Are my symptoms such that they are affecting my judgement (not always easy to know)
or is the therapist doing something hurtful that negatively impacts my ability to open up?
Is my therapist a good therapist?
Did they just make a mistake,
or is their attitude always this way?
Is it my approach to therapy?
or is it the therapists approach that is making it not work?

The most important thing I can do as a patient is talk to my psychiatrist or therapist if I am feeling uncomfortable, or hurt, or diminished or disconnected in any way. I may not have the courage to bring it up while it is happening, or even during the next session, but if something about my therapy is festering inside me...I always bring it up.

Everytime I have brought difficulties up he is completely open to discussing what went on. He apologizes if a mistake was made on his part, or we discuss my reaction if we discover my perception might be coloured by other things. He accepts and encourages my feedback no matter what. This is part of what makes our relationship so important and the bond so strong.

I guess what I am trying to say here is that the first therapist you see, even the fifth and sixth therapist you see, may not be right for you . Don't give up because your therapy does not seem to be working for you.

Therapy, and good relationships in therapy, is/are hard work. If the relationship between you and your psychiatrist or therapist does not seem to have a positive impact on you maybe try approaching your therapy a different way, or try a different kind of therapy, tell your therapist how you feel. If it still is not working perhaps trying a different therapist or psychiatrist would be the positive change you need.

Concrete and Practical Help

2009-08-04T19:46:00.003-07:00

The idea for this post came from Eliza Jane's comments about sometimes needing "concrete" help...thanks EJ

On Sunday I left a message at my pdoc's office to see if I could get an appointment before my scheduled appointment. They called me this morning and booked me in for 4pm. Even as I spoke to the secretary I thought maybe I don't need the appointment now. I was still depressed, but not as acutely so as the past few days. I went against my avoidant self and took the appointment.

A few "concrete" things helped me in my appointment today:

Dr. X's welcoming attitude when I expressed how I was happy to be able to see him earlier in the week. He said he was glad that I felt comfortable enough to call when I needed to.
Both his offer to write, and his taking time after my appointment to write, a letter for me to take to the emergency room if I ever felt I needed to go to the emergency because I was suicidal

This letter was brought up after I explained to him how I was afraid to go to the hospital because I felt like I might get there and my mood might lift momentarily, then the Dr. would dismiss my symptoms, reject my cry for help and send me home, where I would feel even more depressed that no one "heard" me, recognized how depressed I was and that I needed help.

In the letter he wrote about my mood disorder symptoms and the intensity and severity of my suicidal ideation. He also said that I would not bring myself to the hospital if I was not ready to put my suicide plans into action.

As I read the letter it became really clear to me that he really did understand how much I was hurting; how much pain my symptoms were causing me.

I feel now, that if I were to be suicidal I would take myself, with the letter, to the hospital.

We discussed possible medication strategies...this gave me some hope that there are options we have not explored and many combos we have not tried.

Thanks Dr. X for listening and helping me take care of myself. It really helped me to see you today.

Thanks too to my friend "E" who encouraged me to see him in the first place.

How do I Keep Trying if Nothing Works?

2009-08-03T15:32:00.004-07:00

I have been both afraid to write and too unwell to do much of anything. I want my blog to show how I keep trying, but I am having trouble with that right now. A therapy appointment a week and medications that do not work are not enough to support me. I am really struggling to continue.

Why is it with physical pain they give people in excruciating pain some type of pain relieving medications? Yet when a person is in intense psychic/mental pain there is nothing that can at least numb that pain until the medications work? In fact for me, it seems, nothing will ever work.

Do you know how many years of my life have been spent in Major Depression? I wasn't diagnosed before, but I figure it works out to close to twenty years altogether. That is almost half my life.

The irony is that until this MDE of 8 years and the 4 years prior, I saw myself as a pretty happy person, except during the periods of depression: Happy go lucky, funny, charming, loved life, a bit wild, creative, outdoorsy, ntelligent, flirtatious, well read etc..

I am no longer happy go lucky. If my mood switches upwards I spend all my energy trying to maintain that mood. I don't have time for happy go lucky. I am fighting a brutally difficult and deadly battle now.

I don't want to keep trying. I am worn out. I am so exhausted by all my trying and failing. I am so sick of using every ounce of my energy to complete the smallest of tasks. So often I find myself unable to muster the mood, motivation and momentum to even do those.

I am not talking about tasks like getting back to work . I mean things like doing my dishes, my laundry, cleaning my bathtub, cooking food or eating better than Cheetos and peanut butter oatmeal cookies, even walking my dog sluggishly around the neighbourhood, or visiting friends who I truly love. For years these have been intensely difficult tasks for me.

These past few weeks I have been even more intensely depressed than my usual. I do not know what to do. I think of suicide, and plan how I am going to go, much of my waking hours. I have written my goodbye to my sisters, I feel so depressed that I feel sick to my stomach. My body aches. I feel like I can barely move. I have been sleeping, or trying to sleep much of the afternoon. The rest of the time I sit in my chair and stare at the wall. I am completely unmotivated, so fatigued that getting up to walk the dog takes me forever, just to get out of the chair, I sit in my p.j's all day. I am even too tired to put my suicide plans into action. It is possible to be to depressed to kill oneself.

...so I cry and cry and cry. I feel so alone. I feel hopeless and exhausted.

I am afraid to really tell people in my life how depressed I am. I am afraid of them leaving me because I am too difficult to be around. I feel like life is impossible to continue. I feel it is not worth continuing. I have tried so many things and still here I sit severely depressed faced with the rest of my life continuing like this.

Please there must be something to stop this pain. How the hell do I keep trying when nothing works?

Hidden

2009-07-29T11:03:00.006-07:00

I know there are people who are depressed who are depressed around everyone; people who are melancholic, or outwardly irritable. I am generally not one of those people. When around others I usually can either fake it and be sociable and pleasant, or my mood actually does lift for the time
I am interacting.

I suppose many would see this as a gift...the ability to pretend, or actually become "normal", i.e. my pleasant self, when I need to. It may seem something like a superhero's ability to become an ordinary human when walking amongst the general public.

There are costs to this way of being. When I am severely depressed the energy it takes to be what I think others need me to be is exhausting. I often leave a social function feeling so much fatigue I want to throw up. The second I walk out the door intense depression sets back in, and I feel exhausted; even more so than my general day to day exhaustion.

The other difficulty I encounter, and this one I find so frustrating I want to scream, is that people don't believe I am sick, or depressed. If I reach out, or open up and bring up how depressed I am, I often (more often than not, hear so many stories about how friends, relatives, family members of the person I am talking with suffer from a depression much worse than mine.

Sometimes I just let the comments go, because it is not a contest...if they think that is the case who am I to argue. So often though I feel like my pain is being dismissed as mild, or not worth worrying about, or even worse, that I am being told I am not depressed at all.

This happened last night. I managed to open up to someone about my mood disorder and they immediately told me their sister had a depression "...much worse than {mine}". The sister had had a breakdown, ended up in care and during one episode became catatonic and had to be hospitalized.

That sounds like a very severe depression to me. It is very sad. How though is it worse than mine...years and years of cycling, no medications that consistently help, or if medications help side effects that impact my life, isolation from most of the people I know, loss of my job, paranoia, fear suicidal ideation loss of pleasure, fatigue, inability to motivate myself...and an increasing sense that I want to die all the time?

Last night every time I would express what my struggle was like this person would interrupt half way through to explain how I wasn't that depressed. Eventually I just became quiet and listened. I felt really dismissed and vulnerable for opening up myself only to be told others are far more depressed, and that I really had not experienced a "real" depression, not like other people have.

I am sure some others are far more depressed, though I do not understand how a person would manage to stay on this earth much more depressed than I feel sometimes. It is a brutally difficult battle at this severity.

I am sitting here right now, just trying to hang on. I feel so isolated and scared. I cancelled a volunteer luncheon I was supposed to go to because I am so depressed I feel physically ill. I know I will be in trouble for cancelling, because I have missed so many meetings recently, but I just don't have it in me to be fake, or for my mood to increase to please others, only to make me more intensely depressed and tired later.

I know it is weird that I care that others see how depressed I am. It is not that I want others to see how depressed I am, or to say yes you are severely depressed, or even to empathize or sympathize. I just want others to know I am not slacking, or lazy, or using the system, or getting disability for something that isn't that difficult to manage. I want others to know I am struggling against an illness just as severe and real as any physical illness. I want others to know I am trying as hard as I can, but my enemy is vengeful and strong. Maybe too, I am reaching out for help.

This needs to End...NOW.

2009-07-28T20:46:00.004-07:00

I am scared of what is happening to me. My mood is cycling all over the place and the switches are shifting suddenly into either my behaving in weird ways, or I suddenly become so intensely and severely depressed I fear I might hurt myself.

I woke at 7am this morning. The second I woke I felt that black pit of hell in my stomach. I was so depressed I felt physically ill...and it got worse. At 7:30 I was trying to make a coffee, and I picked up a knife (the only thing close) to stir the water and coffee in my french press, and suddenly I had an intense urge to end it all; to stab myself over and over 'til it was all over and finally I was at peace.

It felt so urgent; as though stabbing myself was my destiny. I stood there frozen, helpless to stop myself, and the urge kept getting stronger and stronger. I felt compelled to do it.

I don't know what happened because one minute I was feeling compelled, and the next I was crying. I sat down and stared at the wall, unable to manage even a thought. I sat there so tired/fatigued I couldn't move. I sat there dazed and empty, in some kind of void...maybe in a dissociative state??

Even at 8:00 am it was so hot and humid. I wasn't feeling safe at home, but I had no one I could call. It was too early in the morning. I pulled myself out of the chair about a half hour/hour later, dragged myself and the dog out the door, and went to the ocean for both of us to cool off. It took every single ounce of my energy to get up and leave the house.

I sat on a log and cried. I felt, and feel, so lost; so completely and utterly confused, hopeless and unsure about what is happening to me.

Just the day before I was feeling pretty okay. Maybe a bit better than okay. All day the day prior, I was extremely sexually charged. To the point where I just could not get enough. When my boyfriend left for home I started looking at porn on the internet...and did so for hours, until 1:00 pm.

I know I have expressed my having watched porn before, but, but then, as was the case yesterday, this both is not "typical", or "normal" behaviour for me. Also, I have never watched 7-8 hours of porn before. It's just lately I have this insatiable sex drive and I can barely manage it. There is more to this behaviour, but I am too embarrassed to write about it. Surprisingly I do have a modicum of modesty left in me.

So last night I am okay, and this a.m. I sank so low I didn't think I could make. This has been the type of cycling that is happening, and I can't handle it anymore. I don't know what to do, because at this point, 8 years into this episode, it really does look like here lies my destiny...to be completely out of control of my mood for the rest of my life. I can't handle that.

Wide Awake

2009-07-27T03:40:00.002-07:00

It's 3:40 and I have been wide awake since 1:00am. I am (sort of) trying out the sleep/wake system some indigenous people in the world use: If I am awake and cannot sleep, get up, do something relaxing and go to be when I am tired again. I say "sort of", because I did lay in bed for 2 1/2 hours fruitlessly trying to get back to sleep.

I do not understand why I cannot sleep when I take so much medication, some of which, 1000 mg of Tegretol (a mood stabilizer) and 300 mg Trazadone (an older, sleep inducing antidepressant), is meant to help me sleep.

They do help me get to sleep. Within 1/ hr of taking it I can barely stay awake. These medications also, sometimes, seem to help me stay asleep, but like my shapeshifting (read:cycling) mood, there effect seems random.

Dr. X. has spoken with me about my alcohol usage. He's never judging, or paternalistic, but it is clear he is attempting to sway my beliefs, that alcohol helps me, away from the "darkside. He says alcohol may lower anxiety initially, but that there is a rebound effect, a withdrawal of sorts, later on. So if I drink to much I will initially fall asleep, but when the alcohol wears of I will be wide awake. It makes sense. Often I experience exactly this effect, but not always; which makes it difficult for me to think this may be the problem sometimes.

The trouble now, and often when I have these random sleepless nights, is I have not been drinking more than one drink (measured as 1 1/2 oz. vodka, or a small glass of wine, or a bottle of cider) a night all week. I am still not sleeping.

I also have wondered if my insomnia is mood associated. On some level it is. When my mood gets too high I sleep much less. I often sleep much less (at night) when I am depressed though too, due to ruminations, worries, anxiety etc. When depressed I usually sleep more in the daytime due to fatigue...so perhaps the daytime sleep affects my nightime sleep, but again this is not consistently the case. Not being able to sleep is so frustrating.

Now I am feeling sleepy again, so I think I will pop back to bed. Sweet dreams everyone.

Random Shapeshifting

2009-07-26T09:44:00.006-07:00

I have been trying hard to figure out what happened to me on Thursday (and the few days prior). Thursday though seemed to be the day I was pretty sure I couldn't go on. Why then, did I wake at 3am on Friday in a completely different mood state?

Throughout the day on Thursday I made myself crawl into bed both to protect myself and to relieve the intense fatigue and anxiety (is it possible to feel both???) I was feeling. By the evening I was spiraling into such brutal suicidal thoughts that I didn't think I was going to manage to survive them.

Nothing happened between 11pm Thursday and 3am Friday. I had not read my blog and the supportive comments on there. I simply had switched into an okay mood; not high, but okay.

I do not get it. How am I supposed to work on changing myself to help my mood, when it really appears "I" have no say in the mood I have any given day? If I have no control over what affects my mood, why even bother with therapy, or trying to change, or doing any of the things to help myself change?

For me, mood changes appear to be random. Is that strange? Do other's moods switch in a similar manner? Am I the only one who has this experience? It is disconcerting to have such little control over one's self.

The Power of Virtual Friends

2009-07-24T05:38:00.004-07:00

I've been awake since 3am at 5am I decided sleep was not going to show up and got out of bed. I rose to support and caring from some Internet friends... Thank you.

I think people underestimate the power of communication found among people connecting via the Internet. My blog has always created a sense of belonging for me, a sense, and often instantaneous feedback, that I am not the only one struggling with mental illness. I know that should be obvious, but when depression grabs hold of me my first reaction is both to isolate, and to feel alone. My blog provides me with a connection to others that I find invaluable.

I have been really struggling this past week. This morning I woke and found cookies on my virtual doorstep from Eliza Jane, a new?, or previously silent? (forgive me if my memory is mistaken) blog visitor, and another reason to live and cyber hugs, from Valerie, another Internet connection. Harriet sent me words of encouragement yesterday, and a couple days prior EJA, HBW, xthedestroyer and Harriet showed up to provide support and kind words.

This is a constant for me; "strangers", or rather cyber friends, showing up when I need a helping hand. These gifts provided me with a different perspective this morning (and do anytime friends comment). Thank you.

Throughout the past few years I have felt an incredible and truly powerful connection with many people who comment on my blog. These are people I would love to meet: People I can see are full of love and caring for their fellow human beings. I feel blessed to be a small part of each of their lives. I would jump at the opportunity to meet almost any of the people commenting on my blog.

Thanks for the support. I really appreciate it.

On another note:
...I looked up "dialectics"...just in case I was jumping to conclusions about Dr. X's use of the word...(Moi? Jump to conclusions? I am an idiot. It simply refers to an "argument"
...http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dialectic

I'm Tired

2009-07-23T16:55:00.005-07:00

I sat in front of Dr. X today, so sad and lost and empty. I felt like I was going to crumble into a pile of nothingness. I told him I have had thoughts of suicide. I want so badly to be able to speak this truth out loud to someone without fear of hurting them, or their rejecting me for my intensity of pain and depth of failure to become "well".

I try hard to believe this person is Dr. X. He's trained to deal with this stuff. Something inside me make me hold back the details with him too. I am scared my thoughts/plans/ideas/visions will hurt him, in the way just having the thoughts seems to hurt others.

While we are talking he says something using the word "dialectics" and alarm bells go off in my head. I think he is referring to helping someone with Borderline Personality Disorder. One of the treatments for which is DBT...and I immediately think he is mistaking my having these thoughts for borderline behaviour. I feel scared; completely misunderstood and misread.

I can't speak the entire truth to anyone.

The thoughts are intense, powerful and detailed. I suspect they will disappear only when they have been successful. I want the detailed plans and visions out of my head. I want the thoughts to disappear.

My sister calls and asks how I am. Usually, I can feign a, "fine". When she calls I am so depressed I have no energy to outright lie..so I say; "I am so depressed right now, I can't take this anymore". She is silent on the other end of the phone. The silence feels cold and it draws a clear line: "do not tell me anymore!" I was about to say, "I want to die", but instead say, "I'm okay".

Then the niceties begin...both of us knowing what I did not say. An invitation to visit her place is forthcoming, but I have no energy to cook, or eat, or stay out of bed, let alone drive for 5 hours. What I really want is her come to me, like my Mom might have. The empty space, between small talk, on the phone only proves to heighten my sense of loneliness and despair.

Dr.X asked me to find reasons to live. I thought of three:

My dog...he needs me.
My sisters would be hurt if I died
I don't want to hurt Dr. X

But, I could provide for my dog to be taken care of, I could write notes to my family and Dr. X assuring them I know they tried so hard to help me. letting them know I love them, but I can't manage anymore. On some level I am certain it would be a relief for my sisters to see my pain end.

That is what I want. I want this pain to end.

Rivers Run Through Me

2009-07-20T10:00:00.002-07:00

I'm just tired, depressed and worn out. I used to believe I would get well again; I mean almost completely well like I have after my other depressive episodes. I don't believe that anymore, and even Dr. X. has told me it is likely I will always have to manage some cycling up and down.

I know he is right. I see others having to manage cycling, even when it appears their illness is being well managed with medication

I have been having intense thoughts of suicide off and on all weekend. I envision myself hanging myself: how I will hang, where and what it will feel like. Most of all I daydream about all the relief I will feel as I slip into unconsciousness. I watch myself lift up a gun, arifle and shoot myself in the head. The violence of both ideas points to how anxious I have been all weekends. The more anxiety I feel, the more violent the methods of suicide I imagine.

My boyfriend told me to stop worrying the other day. He asked me why I worry so much. I don't know. I cannot remember a time when I did not worry. I remember, even when I was 5 or 6, worrying about all kinds of things. It seems like I was born worrying.

I told him, for me, worrying is a symptom of my illness. I think it is a material structure in my brain that makes me worry. Some kind of negative feedback loop in my brain has worn a path so deep into the forest of neurons and dendrites, the chemicals flow like a river down these worn paths; rapidly exchanging negative thoughts, beliefs and ideas down this canal. It is difficult for any positive ideas to cross the deep riverbed created by years and years of bad thoughts.

I feel like I do not want to keep trying; like trying so much takes all my energy. This past week I have slept, and slept and slept. I have slept in, slept late, napped in the afternoon, in the evening and then gone to bed early and slept in late. I want so badly to just disappear, for it to end, for my life to go away.

All and Nothing

2009-07-16T14:49:00.001-07:00

Today was one of those therapy sessions that was all over the map, covering everything and nothing at the same time:

How much I am drinking,
Why I am drinking more,
My mood is lifting
My mood is down
I am detached
I am tired all the time
I am having trouble doing things
My attempts to catch at reverse my feelings of being watched and judged,
My feelings of paranoia about my landlord
My inability to successfully stop my paranoid thoughts
My extreme worry (read major anxiety attacks) about my application for separation and divorce from my husband; my husband wants a detailed ironclad agreement between us, meaning I have to provide statements, tax info, asset info ( the list is 3 pages long)...This kind of scrutiny and information gathering is intensely disturbing and difficult for me to manage,
That I had unprotected (no birth control) sex twice this week despite having had a birth control failure the week before last and knowing exactly how stressed out I get about the chances of getting pregnant,
Why I had unprotected sex despite having had...blah, blah, blah,
How I am making poor judgements
How only the birth control write off an example of poor judgement
I had two dreams,
What I thought the dreams meant,

And then finally..about 7 minutes before I have to leave Dr. X's office, what is really bothering me comes up: Am I going to be able to work again?

Shoot me now, but I cannot manage my life with the uncertainty of not knowing what I am or am not going to be capable of . On one level I recognize Dr. X is not a "mind reader" ha, ha...but on another level I want to know, at the very least, the odds of my being employable again.

What got me thinking about this again is my boyfriend. He has a M.I. too and has been chronically ill since he was very young. I asked him if he ever thought he would ever be well enough to be off disability. He just, matter of factly said , '"No".

I then asked him if it bothered him and he said, "No", I have accepted that I can only do what I can. I work when I can and don't when I can't.

In many ways I see how his knowledge of the incapacitating nature of his illness protects him from the type of feverish get back to work type schemes I come up with...like volunteering even if I am really sick, and being unable to say no to teaching, panicing about not working/not being able tpo work etc.

On the other hand I worry that if I were like that it would be a kind of complacency that would make me give up life all together. What am I if I am not a worker? My whole life (until I got so sick) I was a worker.

Dr. X enthusiastically explained (once again) that I am working...but he knows, and I know it is not the way I mean. I mean getting off disability contributing to the social well being of our country and fending for myself.

He says I am contributing to the country and community. He says all the people I teach art to are benefiting from my volunteer work. He says if he was working for the insurance company he would be proud to see someone the company is helping, do as much for the community as I was.

I just sat there protesting and bawling. I feel so much like I have failed; like I am a failure. Like I will never get better, never get well enough. I left his office sobbing and went into the washroom and cried. I just want to know what to expect for my future.

2009-07-15T18:43:00.003-07:00

Sleep,
Sleep tonight,
And may your dreams,
Be realised,

If the thundercloud,
Passes rain,
So let it rain,
Rain down on me,

Mmm mmm, mmm,
So let it be,
Mmm, mmm, mmm,
So let it be..."
(U2 MLK)

I know I wrote of early morning wakings only 5 days ago, but since then I have become Sleeping Beauty. I spent the weekend with 'I'"(my boyfriend). He has a very different sleep schedule than I do. His regular bedtime is 3 or 4am and he wakes around 2 or 3pm.

His schedule works for me, because it allows me to keep up with my other friendships. This is super important to me both because I love my other friends, but also because in the past I have had a tendency to isolate myself from my friends when I have a boyfriend/husband. It always seemed too much to manage both friends and lover if that makes sense.

This weekend, unlike any other, I found myself getting out of bed around 11am (unheard of for me). At 2ish pm I was crawling back into bed until 4pm. As I lay there I knew at least one of the reasons I stayed in bed so late and climbed into bed later. 'I' wraps himself around me when he sleeps.

As we lay together spooning he is so close to me it almost feels like we are one. I am surprised that I enjoy cuddling like this so much, because before, when I was with my husband, I hated it.

In fact, for years we slept in separate rooms because I couldn't sleep with him in the bed. I thought it was because my husband snored and moved around too much, but 'I' snores and it does not bother me at all. Instead, I find it comforting.

I think in part this difference is bred by how ,'I's actions are always warm , loving and caring. He is always supportive, never yells at me, and lets me know he values all I do, or try to do. He kisses me frequently and passionately. He hugs me and and reaches out to hold my hand. His hands wander over my face and body as we talk. He doesn't pull away when we become close.

In short he acts like he cares deeply for me. I need to remember this about him, because I have a tendency to doubt people; to doubt there positive intentions and feelings towards me.

Last week I was in my session worrying about how maybe 'I' didn't really care for me the way it seemed, or the way I did for him. Dr. X reminded me of the possibility of phenomenon called projective identification if I continued worrying this way/or acting like I was worried about all this.

If I doubt 'I's feelings towards me and keep projecting that kind of worry in my conversations/actions with him, it may very well happen or become like I believe: Not because I believe it, but because my actions may begin to reflect my fears causing the other person to react accordingly.

This past weekend I opened up and loved, and kissed and hugged and made love like I knew 'I' was as madly in love with me as I am with him. It was so beautifully perfect.

You know that feeling when you kiss a lover and your whole body reacts and a lustful wave of passion flushes over your whole body? Or when you make love and you want to cry it feels so good? That was how being with 'I' felt to me.

It seems like he feels the same way too...and that felt so good; so good to each of us that he stayed over an extra day.

Hmmm...is it Possibble I Have Been Mistaken?

2009-07-13T13:52:00.004-07:00

In my appointment on Thursday I talked with Dr X. about how I think people think bad things about me all the time. One example of this is when I am walking my dog I always feel other people are judging me as a dog owner, and my dog as a dog breed.

My dog is not that common. he is a white boxer and you don't see very many of them. Because of his odd colour and his very square jaw people often mistake him for either a pitbull or an american bulldog. They seem scared of him and avoid us if we are walking.

Given I spend almost every waking minute with my dog by my side I feel, by association, avoided and repugnant.

In my appt Dr. X. asked me if I could challenge some of my thoughts about people thinking bad things about me; challenge them in the moment. So this morning, when an opportunity came up I tried it.

I was walking my dog in my neighbourhood. I know I looked both a bit disheveled and maybe a bit unapproachable (...as I was almost completely inside my head thinking about how much amorous fun I had last night;.)) I looked up and saw an older Sikh woman (maybe 65-75) staring at my dog and I.

The woman kept looking furtively at us, and then away from us like she was dismayed to see such a person, and such a dog on her street. I could feel myself suddenly becoming extremely self conscious and defensive. I suddenly wished I had taken the time to put a bra on, to wear more modest clothing, and to look a bit more conservative. I became annoyed that she was looking at me and my dog the way she was.

Feeling defensive I decided to show her I was a nice person...and I said hello. As I did, she smiled brightly and said, "He is so gorgeous, your dog".

When she said that I remembered Dr. X. telling me to challenge my beliefs and thoughts in the moment. I had challenged them, but not consciously...I was flabbergasted at the words that came out of the woman's mouth. She wasn't judging my dog. She was admiring him.

I felt very humbled by what was really happening. I believe some of my perception was coloured by my own prejudicial beliefs about how "conservative" thinking, and/or judgemental of me an older Sikh woman might be. I like to think I am more open-minded than this, but I think at times we all make assumptions based on not necessarily correctly held beliefs about others, other cultures etc.

So based on my experience today I have challenged two possibly wrongly held beliefs...one cultural and one very personal. I can see how my judgements about others, and how others perceive me might reflect back in how I expect them to perceive me, and in fact how my expectations might actually influence their perception of me.

For example, maybe I act standoffish if I feel I will be judged.
I get stressed out that people are judged, maybe they misread my fear and stress as danger, or threatening and act accordingly. A while ago Dr. X. spoke to me of something called, (I think) "projective identification". It is where how you expect others to treat you actually becomes how they treat you...not magically, but because you send out signals to others about what you feel and they interpret/misinterpret how you are. I think this happens to me.

I will address this phenomenon in my next post.

Early Morning Wakings

2009-07-10T07:07:00.005-07:00

It is 7:07am and I have been out of bed since 5:00am; wide awake since 4:12am. Usually I would stay in bed when I wake that early, but Dr X. was telling me about a book he read. Part of the book...unfortunately I cannot remember the name...talked about how different cultures sleep, view sleep and manage waking earlier than expected/needed.

The author explained that in some indigenous cultures, when people woke in the middle of the night they did not stay in bed and wait impatiently for sleep to come, but instead got out of bed, made some tea, talked with others, and when sleepy, went back to bed

I know for many of us with mood disorders sleep regulation is an important component to working towards a healthy, or healthier, mood. So talk with your pdoc before trying this...but I have been trying this the past few

Normally, if I woke before I wanted to get up, I would lay in bed, get annoyed and frustrated I couldn't sleep, and then, of course, fall asleep right before I needed to get up. The past few days I have been getting out of bed much, much earlier than normal. I have then been crawling back into bed for a nap around 11 or 12 am; and trying really hard to just let that be okay.

I love the early morning. The light is beautiful as the sun creeps into the sky. The sun creates a light that heightens the red tones and brightens the green in anything that crosses its path. The natural world looks and feels more vibrant, even more miraculously glorious than it usually appears.

Yesterday morning I got out of bed and went out to the university where my pdoc appointment is an hour early and I walked my dog for about 45 minutes around the campus. It was gorgeous and there were few people about.

This morning, when I woke around 4am I was going to get out of bed, but my boyfriend, sound asleep wrapped his arms around me instead. To be held and silently and subconsciously loved by someone I care so deeply for felt too good to interrupt. So I pulled closer to him and lay quietly in his arms. At 5am though I was so wide awake I clambered out of his arms, got up and made some coffee.

It was then I had the brilliant idea to take my dog to the park for a run. During the day there are too many people around and I risk the city by-law officer 's wrath if I have my dog off-leash in the park. This morning at 5:30 hardly anyone was around and I let my dog run free. It was so great to watch him so free and funny

I am going to try this wake up idea for the next few weeks and see how it goes. I can see problems with the theory in a country like mine, where if I want to work, napping at 11am isn't going to work. Right now though, my schedule is such that most days I can manage a nap in the late morning or early afternoon. So why not try it.

A Brain Tornado

2009-07-08T10:29:00.003-07:00

Yesterday (and for the past few days) I have felt so wound up and wired that I cannot slow my brain down. It is racing all over the place from thought to thought to thought to thought...etc. The thoughts aren't good, they are angry, sad, irritable and downright annoying. I really would like my brain to just stop once in a while and be. Do "normal" people's brains take a break once in a while?

My brain goes from, "I am never going to be well" to "maybe this is normal", to "I cannot take this anymore", to, visualizing myself hanging from my bookshelf, to being afraid I wouldn't die (just end up brain damage) to, feeling like "no one can help me (least of all myself)", to "maybe I am making things not work", to, I am overwhelmed", to, "God I overwhelm others, to, " I think I am overwhelming my new boyfriend", to, I am scared I will scare him away", to, "I am scaring him with my wierdness", to, how do I stop this? to, "maybe it would be best for others that I disappeared", to, I focus too much on myself", to "if I focused less maybe I'd get better", to "how the fuck can I not focus when I feel so bad" to, "no one who is not me can truly get what this is like", to "I am selfish", to, "I am bad", to "I am wasting Dr. X's time" to, maybe I should stop my medicine, it doesn't seem to help anyways", to, "nothing helps", to "others need help too I should leave therapy and give others the opportunity to try to get well", to, Why am I stuck here?" etc., etc.

...and that was just the past few minutes. My brain does that over and over all day long.

So yesterday I thought I'd try smoking some pot again...to slow my brain down. It was not a good experience.

I got so high that all I could do was climb into bed. As I was lying there I began to here all the minute components of "white noise". I could hear every little sound that made up the background noise in my air. It was so loud; all the noises were so loud that they were hurting my ears. I couldn't grasp how I could hear anything else while all this noise was going on. The noise became more and more overwhelming. I became so scared that I began panicking. The noise wouldn't stop and I began to hear someone knocking on my window over and over. It scared me so much.

When I looked no one was there. I looked at my dog too and he gave no indication that anyone had knocked or was nearby. I pulled the covers over my head and listened, my heart pounding. Eventually I fell asleep. Three hours later I woke up. I don't think this is my drug of choice. Sure it slowed my thoughts down (at least I focused on one thing)...but I felt terrified almost the whole time.

Insatiable

2009-07-06T11:55:00.004-07:00

I have been absolutely insane these past few days. I do not understand what was going on, but here goes...

This weekend, since Thursday I have been on a sex, drugs and rock and roll bender. Thursday night I decided to try to stick to my plan of having one drink that evening. I had one, then another and another and another. I began feeling like my old self...free. My boyfriend and I cranked the tunes and sat back and talked until 2 or 3 in the morning. It was great and felt so good: until the next morning.

I woke up at 9am with the worst hangover I have had in a long time. I managed to walk the dog and visit with a friend, but then disappeared under the covers, beside my sleeping boyfriend, until 2 or 3pm.

I know I spoke of my difficulties with antidepressant induced anorgasmia a couple days ago. This in no way means I have lost my sex drive. I woke feeling insatiable. I worked to satiate the both of us then got out of bed around 5 or 6pm.

I decided not to drink that night (again)...given how awful I had felt after the previous night. I managed to stick to that, except as we went for a walk around 10pm I asked my friend for a puff of some pot he was smoking (something I rarely do because it makes me crazy). I haven't smoked pot in years and I bet I have only tried it 2-3 times in the past 20 years. It is not something I have enjoyed in the past.

There is something about my new boyfriend that makes me feel safe to try new things, safe to experiment. So, with that feeling I smoked some more, then more, then more again. By the time we got home I was so stoned , but it felt so good. The only other time I remember pot feeling that way was with my best friend when I was 23 or 24.

When we returned home, the second I walked in the door I pulled out a canvas I have been working on, turned up the music and painted and painted and painted until 1 or 2 am. It felt so good to be lost in my art and to be swallowed up by music again.

The next day I wanted to get high again, so I went and got more pot...I cannot believe I did this, Honestly, I have not done this since high school. I am not sure what was/is happening to me.

On Saturday I got high, then I got high again, and again. I spent most of the day high, painting and having sex. It was great. I felt like my old wild self was appearing again. I have not seen her for a while.

Yesterday morning Sunday) I woke up around 9am and all I could think about was having sex. I started looking at our magazines, looking up porn on the Internet (there is a really good woman friendly site called "I Feel Myself"). By 1pm I was dying to have sex so I went into the bedroom and began slowly waking my boyfriend with some loving touch.

He didn't want sex..and something happened to me. I had a bit of a weird meltdown. I guess I felt rejected or something, but it was really out of character for me.

I felt, and I feel today this intense love for him. So intense that it scares me that I desire someone so much. I am afraid by how intense my love feels. I am afraid I will let myself, and have allowed myself to become t0o close to someone. I feel intensely vulnerable. It is at this stage when people always leave me because I overwhelm them or scare them. How do I stop this?

Anyways, today I feel insatiable still and I feel vulnerable too, but I can see I was a bit crazy this weekend...I slept until 11am this morning (pretty unheard of for me) yet I feel an intense speediness in my thinking that is becoming really uncomfortable. I feel crazy out of control, while at the same time feeling my depression intensely too. God...when will this crap end.

Narcissistic Nightmare

2009-07-05T12:07:00.003-07:00

This is a post about being conspicuous, standing out in a crowd, feeling like you are always being stared at and judged. It is how I feel when I go anywhere outside my house. It is different from my sense I am being spied on.

When I leave the relative safety of my house I always feel this sense of being stared at. I say relative because even in my home I feel I am being watched, and take precautions to help people not see me (online, window coverings, sit in certain places in my house etc.). Outside my home I begin feeling like I am being watched and judged by everyone who sees me; and everyone does see me...it is an awful, stifling and suffocating feeling.

I feel embarrassed to have this feeling because it shows others how self-centred and narcissistic I am. My belief people actually spend their time watching me feels bad. I say "bad" because it reeks of my being the kind of person who feels worthy of being looked at all the time; a vanity that doesn't sit well with my Judeo-Christian upbringing's beliefs about ensuring one is not "self-important", or egotistical; ensuring one remains humble about one's self worth and importance.

My sense of being watched or stared at is not a feeling that others are staring at me because I may be special, or beautiful. It is a feeling like everyone is trying to catch me doing something wrong, or strange, or embarrassing.

Unless my mood is extremely high; in which case I feel stared at because I am on, attractive and desirable, anytime I am out o my house I feel people are just waiting and watching for me to make a mistake or a fool of myself. They are watching to see me trip or fall, or laugh at the wrong time, or make a stupid comment. They are disgusted with how I look; my weight, my height, my face, and my attire. I look out of place, like I don't belong. They are waiting and watching to see me embarrass or demean myself.

It is an awful feeling being stared at, being judged all the time. What makes it even more so is the shame I feel for thinking these thoughts. This shame makes the fear of embarrassment and judgement even worse than it could be without it. Why is life so hard to manage and go through? Why can't I just "be"?

Anorgasmia

2009-07-04T12:44:00.001-07:00

(may be a bit explicit)...)

The reasons for this post are threefold: To share my experiences both with anorgasmia (the inability to achieve orgasm/climax) and intercourse before I began taking antidepressants, and to express my current experience with SSRI induced anorgasmia. I want others to see and understand they are not alone, to encourage others to not give up on the chance for a great sex life.

I am sure others have difficulty with not being able to orgasm, or help their partners orgasm, during sex and/or intercourse. These difficulties may be caused by you or your partner taking antidepressants, or maybe you never learned, or are uncomfortable talking about, how to help your partner or yourself achieve orgasm during intercourse, it may also be that you have some kind of medical condition that contributes to your difficulty, or maybe inability to orgasm. I hope some of my disclosures can show you it is possible to get help, or help yourself, if you approach your difficulties orgasming with an open mind.

What is an orgasm? It's hard to believe, in a world where sex is promoted and flaunted everywhere 24/7 that some people have never experienced an orgasm. Wikipedia says, "About 15% of women report difficulties with orgasm, and as many as 10% of women in the United States have never climaxed. Even women who orgasm regularly only climax about 50-70% of the time." What is with that?

The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines an orgasm the following way:

"Orgasm:
The crisis of sexual excitement in either humans or animals".

Those of you who have never had one...it is much more enjoyable than what MW makes it sound like. I had to laugh when I read the definition of orgasm in the dictionary. My entire life I have never considered an orgasm a "crisis". In fact I experienced orgasms as what I thought was the opposite, as an intensely pleasurable release, or often a relief from external crisises. It feels like for a few moments everything is beyond perfect; as though the body has achieved momentary Nirvana.

Curious at the MW definition I looked up crisis in the dictionary...thinking a crisis was something unsettling. I was sort of right, but so was my dictionary...

"Crisis:
an unstable or crucial time or state of affairs in which a decisive change is impending..." Yes, I suppose an orgasm is that, or at least this definition describes a state of being seconds before an orgasm.

There was more to the Merriam-Webster's definition of orgasm, a sentence that made my current experiences with orgasms, (or rather my NOT having any orgasms)...my SSRI induced anorgasmia, fit more with the definition:

"Crisis:
an unstable or crucial time or state of affairs in which a decisive change is impending; especially : one with the distinct possibility of a highly undesirable outcome".

I have have never had difficulty with orgasming with masturbation/mutual masturbation/oral sex/toys etc. Orgasming during intercourse has been a different story. I did not have an orgasm during intercourse until I was in my mid-thirties. It was then I recognized I needed love and trust to reach climax during intercourse. I needed to let go, feel safe and free, and feel it was okay to focus on me and my needs. Most times, on top of this I also needed to use a vibrator to help me along.

No one ever told me this little secret. In my mid-thirties, 8 or 9 years into my relationship, was also a time when I felt okay about using vibrators and other toys during intercourse as opposed to using them only during foreplay. Toys can be a girl's (or boy's) best friend if you have difficulty orgasming during sex.

Sure I had sex ed, but sex education in school falls down in a huge way. The educators always describe male sex organs as the penis, and female sex organs as the vagina and leave out the fact that the clitoris is our primary sex organ when it come to pleasure.

Some men never learn that lesson. Sadly some women never do either. Why is that? I have a friend who, in their forties asked me, "Why is it women don't have orgasms, or have difficulty orgasming during sex (intercourse). I was baffled that at 40 they did not know why. It wasn't because they did not want to know. It wasn't because they weren't very sexually active. It was because no one had ever explained how the clitoris and vagina work. In all those years of having both and they couldn't explain why they were having difficulty orgasming. Strange, but I am sure, not uncommon.

For myself, and I understand many women, most positions during intercourse do not allow for both penetration and the direct stimulation of the clitoris. Vibrators and various other sex toys can allow and facilitate both experiences in almost any position. While for some people there are strong taboos, or beliefs about the use of "toys". If you are having difficulty achieving orgasm during sex (intercourse or otherwise) toys really can help.

Besides the strange location of the body's clitoris (why the hell is it way out there, so far away from the vagina?), something that frequently interrupts our body's ability to orgasm is some of our medications. This is what I am trying to deal with right now.

It is very annoying and depressing to go from very easily achieving orgasm, to either not being able to climax at all, to being able to climax a tiny bit if I use toys and focus only on achieving climax for a very excruciatingly long, drawn out period of time with intense direct stimulation; most often leaving me still anorgasmic and "overstimulated" . Even with direct stimulation I'd say I orgasm (maybe) 10% of the time.

I am really struggling with this problem, because while Prozac seemed to help my mood somewhat, and sometimes, it made it next to impossible to orgasm. I spoke openly with Dr. X about this and went of Prozac and am now trying Cymbalta, which is supposed to be less prone to blocking orgasms than some other antidepressants.

The problem is that for me, (remember this may not happen to you if you try this med), the Cymbalta is neither helping my mood, or any better at allowing my body to orgasm. I struggle with the idea that I have to choose between an increase in mood, or an ability to orgasm. Are orgasms worth being depressed over? Am I crazy for wanting to both heal and orgasm? I don't think so. For me a healthy and robust sex life is part of a meaningful life. For me a meaningful life is my only hope for long term wellness. So I guess for me orgasms are a must.

If you are struggling with this issue there are things that can help. Some antidepressants do not seem to cause this anorgasmia problem (Wellbutrin and Remeron are two I have read about). Unfortunately, I have tried both. I am trying to let go and enjoy sex without orgasms right now until I can get back on track.

Contrary to what many might think or experience, intercourse without an orgasm, is a highly enjoyable experience if you are with the right partner. I am taking this time to learn new ways to become stimulated with the hopes I will be able to increase my odds of orgasming. My boyfriend and I have been sharing late nights in bed looking at sex magazines together. The pictures stimulate both of us and it almost always leads to sex. I have been dressing sexy for my boyfriend. It makes me feel sexy and contributes to my eagerness to have sex, and to enjoy it regardless of the outcome. I have spoken in depth with my boyfriend about why I am having difficulties orgasming,so he doesn't think it's him, or think that because I don't orgasm I don't want sex, or that I will never orgasm.

This last point, talking to the belle or beau, is probably the most important thing I have done and you can do to help your sex life. Nothing kills a sex life faster than miscommunication, or no communication, about sex.

Get out there and work to enjoy the experience of sex with or without the orgasmic outcome. This is not to suggest you and your pdoc and your partner shouldn't work towards helping you discover, uncover, or recover your ability to orgasm...that is an important part of being a sexual being; of being human. Please talk openly about this with your psychiatrist, there are things they may be able to help you with. They know this happens.

Rather I am suggesting, for now, you work with and enhance what you do have available to you. What you can do. The more you put yourself out there, (no pun intended) the more you have sex, talk openly about sex, get involved in sex with your partner/s the more you will enjoy it regardless of the orgasm

Spies

2009-07-01T11:09:00.003-07:00

I haven't talked about this much; both because I feel scared it is true, and because if it is true I want to stay under the radar. I have strange thoughts beyond my depressive thoughts much of the time.

The most consistent, and the most limiting/difficult to deal with strange thoughts are thoughts and beliefs that I am being followed, spied upon, watched, photographed etc.

These beliefs are very powerful and real, yet I do recognize on some level they may be symptoms of my depression. Thinking that however, does not stop me from believing them to be real most of the time.

When they are at their worst I see people following me, or taking my picture, or watching me. I get scared they are spies from work, or from the insurance company trying to prove I am not sick, and that I should lose my job/insurance. I shut myself in my house and don't go out because I feel scared I will do something wrong.

I sometimes write less openly on my blog because I feel their are two people from an employee investigation company following my blog on a daily basis. I discovered their organization has done investigative work for my insurance company. They freak me out. I have labeled them spies on my Sitemeter. They read every single day. This reinforces my fear.

My landlord works for an insurance company. I have seen him with a giant lensed camera in his car. We share Wifi. He seems really nice, but he scares me. I am afraid he reads what I write, watches what I read, spies on me; is on to me.

On to me for what I am not sure. I am depressed. I do need help. I am not doing anything wrong. I always feel like I am bad though. Like I AM doing something wrong. Like no one is sick for this long. Like I must be taking advantage of my work and insurance company, because no one stays depressed for years do they? No one has so many medicine treatments and therapy and stays sick do they?

It's because he's on a leash...

2009-06-30T17:20:00.000-07:00

God some people irritate the hell out of me.

Scenario: Me and my dog at the off leash dog park. I have left the leash on my dog as he plays, because if I don't I cannot catch him when we need to leave. I'm using it as a training tool.

A pitbull begins playing really rough with my dog. I understand the "establishing dominance" theory, and that some dog play is pretty rough. I watch and it gets too rough. The Pitbull's owner says it's okay, the dog won't hurt my dog, but I see the pitbull hanging onto and pulling at my dog's lips and soft areas of his skin. I intervene. The owner gets huffy.

After a short time out I release my dog again, this time the pitbull and two other big dogs gang up on him. This sometimes happens when too many dogs get too rambunctious together (sort of frenzied behaviour).

My dog is tired and I see the play is getting out of control. I step in again and pull my dog up and out of the frenzy. I hold my dog close to me in a heeling position, but the dogs continue to attack and now even more aggressively than before. None of the owners pull their dogs off.

The pitbull's owner yells at me: It's the leash. They are attacking because the dog is on a leash. Remove the leash!

WTF? I don't give a shit if that is true (that dogs attack dogs on a leash). As an owner, even in an off leash park, it is your responsibility to control your dog and ensure it does not hurt another dog or person.

The idiocy and of the owner continuously reprimanding me for having a leash on my dog, and then having the gall to suggest I was responsible for her dog's viciousness because of the leash, irritates me so much I can't stop thinking about it.

...I fucking hate people sometimes. It seems too many people have, lost their ability to be neighbourly, thoughtful and responsible.

Why does it keep playing through my mind and making me more and more and more irritable? I was irritable all day today and yesterday and the day before. Every little thing is angering me and setting me off. I have that sense of heartburn in my chest because the anger has become a very physical symptom...I feel on edge, easily annoyed, overly sensitive to even small injustices. I hate this feeling

Choose to Reach Out For Help: That is Truly a Choice

2009-06-27T09:11:00.007-07:00

Today's post is a philosophical look at suicide and life. I believe, in most instances, choosing the latter over the former even when in your bleakest, blackest moments is both the moral imperative and the choice people would make if they were feeling well. This is my opinion, but I believe there are good reasons to hold this belief. I hope the reader sees those too.

I am a great proponent of personal choice. I do not believe the State has any business interrupting a person's choice to do whatever it is they wish with their body and their life. As long as you are making your choice of your own freewill, and your choice is not harming another human being, or any sentient being, you should be able to do what you want in any given situation.

Your choosing to commit suicide may seem like it should be your choice. It is after all your body, and your life. In some instances, I believe it truly should be your choice. However, in many, probably most, instances suicide both is not a fully informed choice, nor is it one of those choices in life that harm no one else.

Even a Libertarian, those avid endorsers of freewill and choice, might agree. I suggest this because based on my initial criteria: "You have the right to choose any action as long as it is a choice based on freewill", and, "As long as it harms no other sentient being". Suicide as a valid, moral choice is limited by both.

Is suicide a choice based on freewill? I argue most times it is not. I say this in a moment of clarity, in a moment where suicidal thoughts are not floating through my mind enticing and often imploring me to end my life. Many times over the years (even a few days ago) I would have argued the opposite. When my brain is thinking clearly I can see living is important for so many reasons.

When I feel well, or even if I have brief remissions from my symptoms, I recognize my capacity to "choose" suicide is severely limited by my depression and its symptoms. It is not me who chooses to end my life. It is my illness.

I never plan or decide to commit suicide, or have suicidal ideation, or start pulling out all my hoarded meds, or plan to hang myself when I am thinking clearly. I do these things, think these thoughts, when my illness takes hold of my brain, when it renders me helpless and makes my life seem worthless and hopeless. When I believe suicide is a choice; when I believe I should be allowed to decide to die, I cannot truly choose because reason has left my mind and fear, sadness and desperation have taken over.

The scary thing is the thoughts and plans seem perfectly reasonable, and of my own freewill, at the time. It is only afterwards that I understand my capacity to choose has been impaired by my depression and my cycling mood. I cannot tell the difference between reason and false reason while in the midst of my suicidal sufferings. This is where I have learned to listen to my friends and my psychiatrist, Dr. X. I understand my brain is not "well". I need medication and therapy and extra support. I have learned that when my mind is moving, or stuck in this direction, I need external support and help. When depressed, mentally unwell, or thinking about and planning suicide I need to trust and accept an other's support and opinion.

What about the criteria of not harming another sentient being? The choice to commit suicide, actually the action of committing suicide, cannot fulfill this criteria either.

A very close friend's father committed suicide when my friend was 9 years old. He is 43 right now and he thinks of his father's suicide, is saddened by it, every single day of his life. His father's suicide led to a chain of events that may have been avoided had his father sought treatment and support rather than hang himself.

I won't go into details, but every single person in my friends family, and his family's life has been devastated by a choice his father made while his father was severely depressed. The sad thing is his Dad should have known he was not thinking clearly. His dad was a psychiatrist.

Even professionals who treat others with depression, or any mental illness, may lack the capacity to reason, to clearly choose, when it comes to their own suicidal thoughts, urges and actions. The thing is there are always people hurt and affected when a person commits suicide.

I know in my darkest moments I have sat down and written letters to my family, believing I could explain why I needed to go, and how they would eventually understand that my "choice" was best for us all. I have been so sick that I didn't care if I affected others; times where I kept thinking over and over again I just cannot take it anymore.

When I become less depressed I see how much my suicide would impact those I love. Even if I have no one, which in my depressive episodes has sometimes seemed the case, maybe my death would impact others I am not yet aware of, others who need me, or want me to live.

When depressed, or mentally ill the brain sometimes attempts to, and sadly too often succeeds at, telling us suicide is a choice; that it is the right choice, that it will not harm others. This is an illusion. The choice is not free, nor is it true others will be left unscathed.

Please, please, please...before you make a decision that is not really based on freewill and unbiased choice, a choice all too informed by depression, or an untreated/or undertreated mental illness; before you make a decision that will devastate the people you leave behind (and it will) please seek help.

There are family doctors, therapists, social workers, nurses and psychiatrist who really care about people struggling like we do. I know because I have a psychiatrist who makes my worst days survivable and sometimes even worthwhile because I am able to learn something about myself and others.

Please seek help. Every human being deserves to want to live, to have the option to live, and to build there sad or difficult life into a life that is worthy of their beautiful selves.

Dear Anonymous

2009-06-24T10:27:00.003-07:00

Dear Anonomous,
(You posted a comment on my recent post, "Disorganized, Disconnected and Despondent"),

You started your comment with the words, "I am struggling; I think about dying most every waking moment. I came here trying to find some reason to live..." I hope you will read more of my blog and know that there are so many reasons to live, even if the depression seems unbearable.

I am glad you felt safe post on my blog. I am very worried for you and the ones you once loved. It sound like you have so much pain inside. I feel for you, because I have so much pain inside me too.

It really struck me on two levels when you wrote, "They must sense it because they don't really enjoy being around me unless I am doing "fun" things with them such as movies, shows, or amusement parks. I don't think they enjoy being around daddy for daddy's sake. On one level I saw myself and how it seems my family needs me to be the happy, playful aqua in order for them to connect with me. Everyone wants and try very hard to avoid any reference to how depressed I am. So I feel like I need to be fake.

The other thing that struck me about your statement is that maybe I expected my Dad to play that role too. Maybe I have been too quick to judge him and too short on understanding that in divorce, and leaving the family he would have, and may still have a difficult time.

You mention both suicide and avenging those who hurt you. Those thoughts are difficult to have. I really hope you have the support you need to help these thoughts remain thoughts. Please reach out and find a therapist, or a psychiatrist who can help you.

Many many people feel like you do, or have felt like you feel. Medications and therapy can help you strengthen your love for yourself, and your compassion and love for others; even others who have hurt you.

I am not sure where you live, but most communities have mental health resources like Drs, nurses, or social workers and many others who support people with mental health issues. Also, the hospital is always there if you feel you may harm yourself or others. If you have been reading my blog for a while you will know my stay in the hospital really helped me when I needed it. It allowed me the time to just be, and to have no other responsibilities to manage.

Know I am thinking of you and all around you. I pray you are able to reach out and make your life one you feel is valuable and worthwhile. It may seem impossible from where you sit right now, and so much of the time it feels impossible to me to, but change and positive growth is possible with the right support. This blog is a celebration of that belief.

You may be wondering how I can say that when, with really good support I am still depressed. Yes, I am still depressed, but my psychiatrist has really helped me create a life worth living. I forget that sometimes, but he is there to support and remind me, and keep me on track when I fall off the path. Someone can help you discover yourself too. I know it.

Please let me know how you are and

Try, Fail, Try, Fail, Try, Fail Ad Infinitum

2009-06-20T12:29:00.003-07:00

A strange dynamic takes place on a regular basis in my therapy. I will sit across from Dr. X. and protest that I can't cook, eat well, clean, keep up, take care of myself etc. (which prior to the protest is the case)...and then either later that day or the next I end up doing the very thing I could not do earlier.

This happened last night. On Thursday I proclaimed an absolute inability to cook, eat well etc. Last night I had two friends over, made a beautiful salad of various types of lettuce and garden greens, mangoes, avocados, eggs and black beans. I cooked fresh corn; melted brie with roasted garlic and served it with a fresh baguette. I made raspberry vinaigrette salad dressing. Both the food and the process of cooking was enjoyable and seemed easy.

I believe my whining in therapy about the things I can't do rallies the fighter inside me to actually do that for which I confess a lack of motivation and ability.

I am a fighter, but I get tired of fighting to survive all the time. Last night I ate more vegetables than I have this entire month. Unfortunately, based on previous experience I probably won't manage to succeed like that again for a while.

Despite a sense of connectedness with my friends last night, this morning I feel morose, detached, and wish I weren't here. I walked the dog and most of the time I was somewhere else; some of the time visions of my hanging myself; separating my head from my body, ending my struggle forever washed through my head. I really wish I could either succeed at getting well, or get the courage to delete myself from this life. I can't seem to manage either.

All these experiences of trying so hard to pull myself out of the black pit that is my hell, and all the experiences of failing so miserably at doing so have led to my feeling an intense sense of learned helplessness. Giving up seems like the obvious next step.

Disorganized, Disconnected and Despondent

2009-06-19T11:10:00.001-07:00

I had an appointment with Dr. X. yesterday. Thank god. I am not feeling well at all. Sometimes it really helps to just sit across from him and know even if I give up, he won't. That is what he told me yesterday. He never gives up, even if nothing seems to work there are always other things to try. He will never give up on me, maybe change the plan, but never stop trying to help me.

I feel like giving up. I cannot mange to do my housework. My dog is completely overwhelming me and I find myself sitting in a daze starring at the wall, or breaking out into tears because I can't keep up with life.

This is extraordinarily embarrassing, because I want so badly to have a clean house and to be seen as tidy and organized; or "together and a desirable human being. However, since I moved into my place in mid-April I have vacuumed once, I have made periodic attempts to tidy my house, but if I tidy the living room I return to the kitchen and it is a disaster. If I manage to clean my studio area I walk into the living room and it is a mess again.

I am having a difficult time grocery shopping for myself, and even if I buy groceries I cannot seem to cook anymore, or eat well. I feel exhausted all the time, so when I am hungry I grab something I can just eat.

On Wednesday my food intake consisted of 1/2 a cinnamon bun, 7-8 crackers with peanut butter on them, a very white sandwich consisting of turkey, white cheese and white bread, a store bought chocolate milk, and a very stiff drink. The piece of lettuce on my sandwich was my only vegetable that day. I barely had the energy to make the drink. Lame.

Dishes, dirty clothes, art supplies, books, newspapers, dog toys and treats, art props, easels and unfinished paintings litter my house. Anything I pick up, look at or use remains wherever I last touched it. Nothing gets put away. The mess grows in leaps and bounds.

My dog completely overwhelms me right now. He is big, powerful and extremely headstrong and disobedient at 1 year old. I thought I had been working so hard to train him and ensure he becomes a well behaved dog. I spend so much time with him, I socialize him with other dogs and people. I try to teach him the basics; sit, down, stay, leave it and come. He follows my requests when he wants to. When we are alone at home. The instant another canine steps into the picture I become a invisible and ignored. I get so frustrated with his jumping and tugging on the leash; his general unruliness and his misbehaviour. I do not have the energy, or patience for a misbehaving dog. Sometimes I just break out in tears at how much my training and love has failed. I am crying just thinking about it. How could I have tried so hard, worked so hard, spent so much time and energy to ensure I have a good dog, and failed so miserably,

My husband (we have separated) used to tell me everyone has to do all the things I have trouble with; everyone has to do things they did not like to do. He used to tell me I wasn't sick, just lazy, or angry at having to do all these things. He said it so often that I started to believe it.

My new partner is so supportive and understands. Last night when I was crying about how I cannot keep up with the housework he said, "It is okay, your house isn't that messy, and it's clean. your mess is a clean mess, just some things out of place, but it's not that bad".

He's sweet. I don't believe his assessment of the situation,, but it's nice to not be berated for being to depressed to clean. It's good to know someone is understanding and gets how hard it is to keep up with the basics in life.

Overwhelmed, Unable to Get Well, and Fed Up.

2009-06-17T14:54:00.003-07:00

Waiting for a friend in my car. I am legally parked just past a bus stop, but the road is really busy and cars are weaving in and out of traffic at about 20-30 kms over the speed limit...numerous buses (at least their driver's) honk angrily at me as the pull out and pass my car

Bus Driver waiting at bus stop walks past me, towards the traffic sign so he can gain ammunition to tell me, with authority, I am illegally parked. His plan backfires. He reads it and walks back towards me...

Bus Driver: I know you are legally parked here, but it is very dangerous to stop here.

Me: I am waiting for my friend. It says I can stop. Why is it dangerous? (knowing full well why, but feeling really irritatable, angry and overwhelmed by life, and really becoming annoyed at all the jerky bus drivers honking at me, and by the the condescending tone of the bus driver addressing me)

Bus Driver: Buses are pulling out, cars are swerving to avoid you. They are driving at 70kms/hr. They might hit you.

Me: The speed limit is 50km/hr.

Bus Driver: If I were you I would be afraid to park here. I'd be afraid a car or bus might run into me or run right over me..

Me: (In my head) I see all the crazy drivers wizzing by at mach speed, barely missing my car. I noticed that not a single other car is parked in this lane. I deduced it was a dangerous place to park. I don't care. I'm sitting here precisely because I am hoping one of these cars or buses will crash into me at 70kms/hr.

In Want of Nothing

2009-06-12T09:55:00.005-07:00

Me: If you could have any one thing in the world what would you want?
Friend: I do not want anything. I have everything I need.
Me: Really??
Friend: Yes, my life is perfect.

I sat there and listened incredulously to my close friend's answer to my question. "What do you mean", I asked. "You are on disability, you have a mental illness, you are depressed much of the time. You must want something?"

He replied, " I have a good place to live. I have great friends. I have enough money for what I need. I have the opportunity to help others each week, I have my art supplies for painting, and I have work when I am able to work. I don't need anything else.

I sat there thinking how remarkable it was that my friend felt so confident that his life was perfect. This friend had many more difficult things to deal with than I did. Their past had been much more hauntingly tragic than mine ever had. They had lived through a difficult childhood, bipolar disorder, severe drug addictions, sexual exploitation and homelessness and here they were very content with very little.

As my friend spoke it made me realize they had much more than me. They had a very strong support system in their friends and their home.

In my session yesterday morning I was expressing how empty and worthless and meaningless my life feels. Dr. X discussed with me the importance of the very same things my friend expressed were important: strong connections with a good group of friends, work (albeit not "work" in the traditional sense), service towards others, and a means of releasing and expressing my creative self.

My friend, and Dr. X are wise beyond their years. I am going to endeavor to find peace in friendship, service to others in my volunteering efforts and self expression through my art. I want to want nothing. I suspect I may find the peace I need in those three things.

Existential Nihilism

2009-06-10T09:35:00.007-07:00

I feel empty. My life has no meaning, no purpose. I am lost. I have been lost my whole life. I will be lost forever. Nothing fills me me up, makes me feel completely connected to my world for any length of time.

There are moments in my life where I feel connected, even happy, perhaps even joyous. Those times are always short lived, impossible to hold on to. As the moments quickly disappear I slip, once again, into an intense sense of existential nihilism.

I am nothing. I have been nothing. I will be nothing.

When I was a teenager, and as a young adult I used to believe these feelings were part of growing up, part of my immature self trying to discover its own definition. Why then does the emptiness and lack of a self definition continue into midlife? I still feel so lost and undefined. I fear I will always live a life like this.

My life will have woven its way through decades of experiences and I will have known no cohesive "me". I will not have been someone. I will have no one to remember me. My life will have been one long struggle to simply manage to be. My life will have been meaningless. I will disappear as though I had never existed.

The nothingness, emptiness and meaninglessness of life disturbs me

Paranoia and Social Anxiety

2009-06-07T10:57:00.003-07:00

Last night I went with my boyfriend to his house to celebrate a friend's birthday. I felt anxious about going beforehand, but have wanted to get to know his friends more so really felt it was important I go.

The party was taking place in the garden. When we arrived there was an incredible local bluegrass band playing. Instantaneously I loved their music. I really wanted to experience their songs fully. However, as I stepped onto the deck and was introduced to a few people I had this intense sense of panic and fear. I wanted so badly to leave, get out of there, disappear.

I stayed. I continued to panic. no one talked to me and I was to scared to talk to anyone. In fact I felt too frightened to even moved lest someone was watching me. I felt like if I move everyone would look at me. When they looked at me they would think bad things about me.

The more I experienced these thoughts the more socially awkward I became. The more socially awkward I became, the more anxious I became. After about 1/2 an hour of this I went into my boyfriend's room too calm down and get myself together. As I stepped into the room and shut the door tears began to well up in my eyes and I began to sob.

I cannot manage these feelings. I was feeling like everyone was waiting for me to do something bad. I felt as though the second I moved or talked or tried to participate I was going to do something intensely embarrassing or stupid.

I managed to go back to the party and sit on the garden wall, alone on the outside edge of the garden; an outsider looking in. I listened quietly to the band and tried to remain as innocuous, as invisible, as possible. I do not understand feeling like this given earlier in my life I loved parties, meeting new people, and experiencing new things.

My boyfriend came and sat next to me. He seemed to feel the social anxiety too. He invited me upstairs to the upper deck, away from the people, but still technically, at the party, albeit from a distance. I became so intensely relieved I began to cry again. He understood, and said he felt the same way.

He asked if I wanted to leave. I did not really want to, because I understand how I need to face these fears to get over them. I said as much. He told me he could not stay any longer and needed to get out of there as he was intensely anxious.

Secretly I was relieved he wanted to go. We came home and took my dog for a late night walk. Quietly, alone together on a warm spring night; only the darkness surrounding us...that was relaxing and fun.

Control

2009-06-05T11:32:00.003-07:00

Me: I feel completely out of control
Dr. X: What do you have control over?
Me: (Thinking hard, but finding nothing) I feel like I have no control. My mood is out of my control, my anxiety, everything.

...so went a portion of my therapy appointment yesterday.

Most of the time I feel completely out of control, yet control; over myself, my life, and my finances, my destiny is one of the things I desire most. It is also one of those qualities I believe to be so important to my happiness.

To me control over me and my life means I am driving my life, not the other way around. It means I have both personal freedom to choose the life I want, and a responsibility to make this life the best it can be; both for myself and others. It means existentially I am responsible for creating a life I want to live.

My seeming inability to do this; my being driven and directed and thwarted by my mood disorder and its symptoms, adds elements of anger and frustration, stress and anxiety, to all the depression and mood cycling I experience.

My symptoms create intense and never ending death anxiety in me; the anxiety, sorrow, fear and anger that I will not succeed in making my life, and living my life, the way I want it to play out. I will never understand, experience, discover or live the life I am meant to live. I will stagnate in this version of purgatory or hell for the balance of my life.

I will die. I will not have accomplished anything that is real; anything I chose as opposed to activities, ways of living, occupations, and the failure to have an occupation. I will experience nothing except those things that were chosen for me. My life will have been a lesson in predetermination, rather than the freewill so many of us covet in the 21st century. That is not acceptable, desirable, or even an option for me. I want to choose my life.

So I fight, and I battle against nything that threatens to take my freewill away from me. This means I rage against my mood disorders symptoms. I battle its pull on me, its hold over me. I want so badly to believe I have a choice; to show myself I can change. I do not have to be this way. Unfortunately my belief in freewill means I must be choosing this way of life. I do not understand why I continue to be so depressed after all these years when I want so badly to change.

Do we have the power to change and direct our lives? Do our mental illnesses control us? If our mental illnesses are chronic, cycling, or always return, no matter what we do...is it worth fighting to create a life based on freewill, or is our life's path predetermined by our broken brains?

An Outcast

2009-06-03T19:43:00.004-07:00

Caution: May trigger. Suicidal thoughts/plans

I am severely depressed right now. I have been crying off and on. I feel disconnected, detached and isolated/isolating. I feel as though I am not really here and have not been for a long, long time.

I feel alone; that aloneness that comes from always feeling like an outsider, like an other, someone unknown by others and someone unknown to themselves.

I have had thoughts of suicide more frequently over the past few weeks, but yesterday and today the thoughts felt unbearable; unendurable.

Today I spent a long time thinking how to commit suicide and have my dog taken care of. The thoughts had no content about how to care for myself, only my dog.

I'm not sure how to protect him and allow myself to go. The worry is that I will kill myself and no one will find me for a long time and my dog will starve or die of thirst. No one will find me because I am alone. No one ever looks for me.

Today I kept looking at all my hoarded meds...thinking if I took them all surely I would die...but as I thought that and prayed for an ending my mind moved into more violent thoughts.

I kept thinking about maiming myself, stabbing myself, slashing myself. It seemed so easy to do. I kept envisioning how the slicing and stabbing would open me up, pour all my bad blood out of me, cleanse me, calm me...the blood flowing out of my body slowly draining me of sadness and pain.

I crawled into bed and fell asleep for a few moments. When I woke the pain and the thoughts were still there, but had lost some of their magnetic pull. I laid there for 1/2 an hour and decided to see if I could visit a friend, just to get me away from myself. I called her and invited myself over.

I didn't tell her exactly how much pain I was in, but I did ask for company and caring. She helped me immensely, just by being there and listening. I feel although I have slipped in terms of mood and returned to the dark side today I utilized a healthy coping technique at the end of all the unhealthy ones...I called a friend for help, and she was there for me. Since I returned home my thoughts have slipped into darkness again, but I remember the time spent with my friend felt good.

Authority Figures

2009-05-31T10:12:00.003-07:00

This is mostly a rant...with some relevance to my mental health:

I recently moved from a huge farm outside the city to a house in the city. As my husband and I have separated I needed to bring my dog with me. When I adopted my dog as a puppy last year I thought long and hard about the ease of accessibility to a place he could run. He is a boxer; a breed which requires a lot of exercise. The farm was a perfect place for him to run, and run and run in a safe environment...no cars, no people, no kids etc., just acres and acres of pure puppy joy.

I never expected my marriage to fail, and staying on the farm was always a longterm plan. Well of course that failed and here I am in a small home, in the city, surrounded by potentially dangerous dog situations: cars, lots of people everywhere, kids running up to the dog, all kinds of things to chase and a difficult environment for a young dog (1 year) to navigate without lots of structure, secure running areas and tons of training.

So I walk my dog 2-4 times a day on a leash; but he needs to run and play and get out some of his energy. So I tried taking him to the dog park. The last three times I did he was either hurt or became severely ill for days after the park with some kind of flu like illness. One of those times I had to take him to the emergency vet to rehydrate him. It cost $1000.oo; too much for my pocketbook.

I began taking him up to this big beautiful park by my place. There are tons of fields and two fenced in ball fields. I took him into the fenced area so he could run freely without getting hit by a car, or jumping up on some stranger, running towards and scaring some mother and child. He ran and ran, played, frolicked, jumped and I was able to do some great obedience training with him. That all ended Friday.

A city bylaw officer approached me in the field. He stood more than 6 feet tall, approached me with the swagger of an angry policeman and promptly told me I was in contravention of the animal bylaws and was to be charged $250.00 for having my dog off leash and $150.00 for having him in a city playing field.

Everything about the situation felt suddenly terrifying and traumatizing. I could feel intense fear, anger and a sense of being treated unjustly well up inside me. That awful feeling that I was going to cry sat in my chest, throat and on my lips overtook me. I felt that on top of all the fines and lecture and intimidation I was about to let him see how much he had hurt me. I felt sick.

He lectured me for about 10 minutes. All the while standing far too close to me and looming himself large over me. I felt like a bad kid. I felt like I did when my Dad was punishing me. I felt scared it would escalate; frightened and powerless.

Eventually he told me he would give me a warning this time, but as I walked away I began to sob. He scared the crap out of me. The fear of punishment, the belief that I would lose $400.00 from my already limited and over-run budget, the anger that I was trying to do the right thing and was to be punished for it anyways was too much. The bullying behaviour of the officer as he asked me why I was in the park and where I lived, and my inability to express my right to privacy, made me so angry at myself. As I walked away from him, head down, tail between my legs...I had a complete meltdown.

Pain and Tears

2009-05-29T10:02:00.009-07:00

I seem to have a never ending supply of tears. Why is that? It becomes especially apparent in my therapy sessions with Dr. K (or any other "therapy" sessions, formal, or informal),even if someone asks me how I am and actually wants me to tell the truth; and not say some lie like "fine.

Some people have told me they cannot go to therapy because it is too painful, or because all they ever do is cry. In some ways I look forward to therapy for these reasons.

If I don't go to therapy all my pain stays inside me and eats away at me and makes my symptoms worse. There is something comforting about knowing you can share your otherwise carefully hidden pain with someone else. It feels intensely powerful to be able to get all that pain out into the open, to toss the words that represent so much sorrow and anger and anxiety, out into the open room. To be able to share your feelings of strangeness, loneliness; "otherness" with another human being. To take a leap of trust and share anything you need to with another human being is cathartic and soul enhancing.

I sometimes think I should stop therapy. I often sit down in the chair across from Dr. X and think I have nothing to say, nothing to contribute. I sometimes feel I repeat my stories, my pain, my sadness, my struggles...over and over and over. Sometimes I sit in painful silence not knowing what to0 say, or not having the energy to say anything. Dr. X says that's okay. It is okay to sit silently in the room with him.

It seems counter intuitive. Therapy is for talking isn't it? For me there is also some kind of magical nature embedded in therapy with Dr. X. It never happened to me in therapy with anyone else. I sit across from my pdoc and often the anger, rage, anxiety and sadness quiets, dissipates, disappears. His demeanor, his patience, his attention, his acceptance and compassion seem to melt away some of my symptoms. I feel a sense of relief I rarely feel in the outside world.

I think my tears flow so freely in therapy, because I feel it is okay to let go, to cry, to not hide how I feel. I believe they also flow from feelings of inadequacy, guilt and shame that I need to address in therapy. I feel small and unworthy in front of people in authority. I cannot cry and let out those feelings in front of most authority figures. I can in front of Dr. X. He has worked hard to help me see us as equals, to help me learn not all men, not all authority figures, not all people in positions of power want to take me down, punish me, or hurt me.

I cannot believe how ingrained and generalized to almost the entire population (on some level I can see "authoritativeness" in everyone I know...everyone is better than me because I feel like such a loser for being how I am). So I cry because in situation when I am in front of other authority figures I feel scared, unworthy and afraid of punishment...I think I still unconsciously feel this way in front of Dr. X. I am so scared he will leave me, get sick of me, or think there is no point in continuing, or he will become unwell and leave.

I am so scared I will be abandoned because I am not a worthy person. This dynamic reflects my fears about others leaving me. The tears flow and flow and flow because I constantly feel afraid of rejection. My tears are defensive.

When I was little and growing up, I think I subconsciously learned that tears made my Dad stop belittling me. It stopped his teasing and torment of me. It stopped him hitting me. It decreased the pain in my life. I think my brain still makes me cry to protect me. I believe also I cry to release all the pain I experience or have experienced. Crying is a physical release for my mental pain. It feels so good to cry. It calms me.

So I hurt and I cry in therapy, but for me those are two huge reasons to keep going. I need to release all that sadness and pain. I need to share these with someone I trust and believe in. I need to know I am not alone in my struggles. I need to know that there is at least one person in this world who will support me and help me and care for me no matter what I am feeling. Maybe I will never be completely "well", but the support helps me continue to try.

Is This a Crazy Reason to Stop?

2009-05-26T07:38:00.003-07:00

Over the past few weeks I have decreased my Prozac from 60mgs to none.; not because the Prozac did not to seem to be helping increase my mood, but because I cannot orgasm.

While I decreased the Prozac, I increased my Trazadone to 300mgs to try to offset the decrease. It hasn't helped much, except overall my sleep has been better. On Thursday I began taking Cymbalta (Duloxetine) to see if it will help me as an antidepressant.

I feel like hell. It is as though I have been run over by a truck, maybe a steamroller, and on top of the physical pain, I am mad as hell about it. I feel gross, tired to the point of exhaustion. I cannot think straight, or clearly. I feel detached and always disappearing or dissociating. I am so depressed I am having difficulty managing. I am raging angry.

The anger has been getting worse and worse. I hate this feeling. I start grumbling to myself about all the misdeeds everyone is doing to me; cutting me off in traffic, saying mean things to me in class, being unhelpful in retail etc. I also feel much more paranoid about what others are thinking about me, what others ulterior motives are, what others are trying to do to me. I feel so angry I am raging inside. I know from previous experience this is a mood state, but I have no idea why it happens, or how to stop it from continuing. I feel so frustrated.

I think maybe the mood is part of my crashing from going off Prozac; either that or the new antidepressant I am trying. On one level I believe a healthy sex life for me is part of a healthy life. On another level I think maybe I am daft for stopping Prozac for the hopes of an orgasm. I balance wanting to live and orgasm and you'd think wanting to live would come out the clear winner.

Without overstating the value of an orgasm, it is difficult for me to picture a happy life without them at all anymore. Sex is important to me. It is relaxing, calming, soul enforcing, connecting. I enjoy sex without orgasms, but not if I never orgasm. When that happens I begin to feel frustration and anger at my situation.

So I am still unsure. Is a low mood the rest of my life worth a few orgasms here and there? Am I insane? Does anyone else have this problem? How do you deal with it?

Cycling Downward

2009-05-22T16:43:00.004-07:00

Sometimes life seems like a something I am forced to endure. I am, once again cycling rapidly down into hell despite all the help, medications, support and treatment I receive.

There have been so many times when I have believed euthanasia would be the kindest treatment. In the paper yesterday there was an oped piece about how people who believed in euthanasia were stupid. Her argument was based on someone saying an 18 year old depressed person should have the right to die. The writer wrote the piece as though it were impossible to be rational and hold this position.

I kept thinking how clearly I could see where this might be the kindest treatment for some 18 year old people, along withsome 20, 30, 40, 50 year oldpeople and older people as well. It doesn't come down to age for me, but for suffering.

I can understand how an 18 year old might have gone through so many treatments, attempts to help them, and nothing working. I kept thinking the woman writing the piece has no clue how painful depression can be or how it can destroy your soul and all your hope and desire to live..

Even when I feel okay there is always an underlying desire to die. Certainly, even when I become high I would understand if the other side of me ended it all. Life is just too hard to manage sometimes.

When I began psychiatric treatment, and when I was in therapy all the times before that, I expected to get" "better". My definition of better requires I become well like I am when I feel "right and good" AND that I stay that way forever.

It used to happen. I used to become better for really long periods of time, sometimes a couple years at a time. That created hope in me. It made me think that it was possible to live a normal life, to want to keep trying.

I think the reality is now that I need to accept I will cycle forever; accept my mood will go up, but crashing eventually is a certainty. So why bother trying? why stay in treatment? Why take medications when you aren't any more protected from your depression than without them. I am really wondering if it is worth trying anymore.

Disappearing Act

2009-05-18T12:17:00.003-07:00

Sorry for the disappearing act. My life has been turned topsy turvy over the past 2 months. I have reopened my blog to all viewers, so you should not have to sign in anymore. Thanks for the support and patience.

For those who were unable to view my blog over the past couple months, here is an update...

1) A couple months ago I became reacquainted with a man I have been really attracted to for a while . Given I was married I felt an obligation to my husband to remain faithful.

2) This time when we crossed paths (this man and I) there was an unbearably powerful electricity between us. I tried to stay faithful, but given the continuing and long term difficulties in my marriage and this new found intense attraction towards another person I began an affair.

3) Within a week or two of beginning the affair my husband discovered what was happening.

4) He kicked me out of our house.

5) I went to a hotel with my dog and began searching for a new home. This was extremely difficult because of the dog. No one wants to rent to a dog owner.

6) Finally I found a place, and over the past month have been moving in and getting organized and settled in my new home. I am almost settled thanks to the help of my girlfriends H and E and my new boyfriend.

7) I have been fraught with guilt about the way I left my husband and how much I hurt him. Despite our differences he was my partner for 18 years and I care about him. I feel guilty, but I also feel a sense of self and individuality that I have not felt in years. I feel like I molded myself and forced myself to become what I thought my husband wanted. Whoever I had become was not me. I feel I am on my way to becoming a stronger me. I feel my "power" coming back.

8) I really like my new friend. He is very approachable, kind, considerate, loving, open, and warm. I feel good about myself with him

9) Welcome to my new life, my new adventure, my times of intense and I believe positive change.

Thanks for reading.
...aqua

Health or Safety?

2009-04-19T10:19:00.008-07:00

So much has been happening in my life. I went to see my husband (J). The entire night before I was torn. I did not know what to do. Should I return to him as he had requested the previous day?, or should I move onto a different life?

Being with someone for 18 years creates an intense connection and "safeness", even if things are not the way you want or need them to be. I kept looking at my new friend (I) and thinking how do I know this is what I want? How do I know I want to start a new life? How do I know J will be okay? He sounded so sad, desperate and broken when I spoke with him. After 18 years I feel an obligation to help J be okay through all this.

I phoned my stepmom and talked with her about what I should do. Without telling me what to do she asked me: "Do you want to be safe, or do you want to be healthy?"

It struck me deeply. My marriage has been very difficult the past few years. My husband has been drinking a large amount everyday. I feel he is constantly mad at me. I feel I have to be someone other than myself around him. I feel constantly criticized around him. I feel so lonely when I am with him, more lonely than when I am alone.

I started to imagine what my life 10, 20, 30 years from now. I saw myself back with J still feeling disconnected, alone, dismissed, criticized. I saw myself still extremely depressed. I envisioned what it would be like to be sad the rest of my life.

I knew my health had to come before safety. Sure I do not know what my life will be like without J, but I know what it has been like with him. It hasn't always been that way, but it has for a long time. I have tried to make it better, but it never changes. I do not want the rest of my life to be that way.

I told J that I needed to be by myself. I asked if he wanted to go to counselling. He said no. I still would go if it would help him and he wanted to, but I do not believe he will ever want to see a marriage counsellor.

I am sad that we could not make it work. I am sad for J. I am sorry I did what I did. I am, however, glad I had the power to protect myself and not go home. It would have been the safe thing to do, but not the best thing for my mental well being.

Yesterday morning a disheveled man, speaking strange words and chattering to himself, approached me. He came right up to me, touched my arm and said, "Don't worry. Everything is going to be all right". I looked at him and said, "Thank god, because everything has been pretty bad lately". He looked at me like he had known that all along.

I Feel So Evil

2009-04-13T09:26:00.004-07:00

I thought I had a reprieve yesterday when my husband phoned and said I could come home until I found a place and he would move to a friend's house. So I left the hotel I was in with my dog and all my stuff. Unfortunately my husband did not remember saying that and kicked me out again.

I am exhausted and starting to crash big time. My biggest fear has always been being homeless and I am freaking out now. I was okay yesterday, but today I feel so scared.

E and I drove around looking for places all afternoon yesterday and ...nothing.

My husband phoned me yesterday and began crying. He says even though we will never get together again he misses me so much. My heart breaks when I think about what he is going through and what I have done to him. I feel so evil.

I think I need to see Dr X. before Thursday. I am starting to fall apart.

Homeless

2009-04-10T10:17:00.007-07:00

I am very worried and anxious.

My husband came back in the house and told me to get out with the dog by the time he came back to the house. So as of now we are "homeless". While Skookum and I have no home anymore we did check into the best hotel in the city. They allow dogs...even have a hotel dog you can take for a walk...very cute.

Yesterday I began the process of trying to find a place to rent. Thank god I have a great friend , E, who has been helping me. She is amazingly supportive. I hope I can return the favour someday (hopefully not for these circumstances though)...no one should have to ever go through this.

I called both my sisters to let them know where I was. Both of them are extremely angry at me, with my one sister saying: "What did you expect" and "You could have thought of me and the kids. We really love (my husband). I feel very distraught and alone; so scared that I keep disappearing into my bubble. It isn't helped by the fact that the two people in the world that I need to help me think I'm a bitch.

It is hard to explain to anyone why I cannot remain married to my spouse. He is a good man in so many ways. He just is not good for me. I need someone who lets me in; someone who is caring towards me in a nurturing way, someone who allows me to be the creative, loving, accepting, caring, singing, painting, teaching being I am meant to be.

Two of my readers, Shock and Jcat, two incredibly supportive people towards me, have given me good advice in my previous post...to seek counselling, and tell Dr. X. I did tell Dr. X yesterday. He was so caring and supportive. There is a huge part of me that feels so ashamed of what I have done. I asked him if I had destroyed his perception of me, (because I feel I want so badly to be, and be seen as, a good person). What I have done to my husband is shameful. Dr X said no, but he had the saddest look on his face. I don't know if he felt sad that I would think that, or if he felt sad about what I had done. I think probably the former. I have a hard time believing anyone cares for me as much as he seems to. I don't feel I deserve so much compassion and lovingkindness. I always feel I am such a bad person. I guess what I have done pretty much reinforces that.

I called my husband yesterday and asked if he wanted to try counselling. He said, "no, counselling is out of the question because I have destroyed his trust in me, and that is the only thing that matters. He said he would never be able to forgive me, or trust me again. He also told me that his friends had been asking him for years why he stayed with me. He said he always loved me and believed in me. He told them I was a good person. He said ALL his friends had been trying to talk him into leaving me for years,

This really hurts me, as I felt they did not like me, but went into my relationships with them, believing I was just sick and paranoid...that despite my fears I was an outcast, they did like me as my husband told me over and over again.

To know I spent 18 years visiting with, and developing "friendships" with people who really abhorred me all this time is really distressing. It feels like abandonment. It feels like all my relationships except the ones with my personal friends have been completely false. It hurts me very very deeply.

anyways...I managed to get my own phone yesterday and called a few places, but no one accepted pets. So I will try again today. Please send positive energy my way. I really, really need it,

Followed

2009-04-08T16:46:00.003-07:00

My husband came in the house just now and asked me how the my painting went. I said good. He said, W"hat would you say if I told you I followed you today and you didn't go to the arts Clubhouse?"

I didn't. I made love all day with another man. It was incredible, beautiful, breathtaking.

I just looked at my husband and said, "Why would you follow me?" He walked out of the house and slammed the door.

I want out.

Introducing Myself

2009-03-27T09:42:00.005-07:00

I am taking a huge leap of faith here. I hope you don't think it's too corny. I had to hold my voice back quite a bit, because my webcam's microphone starts reverberating if I sing to loudly, or powerfully. Also, sounds much better with a piano, but I can't play, so here is me singing "Nevertheless" all by my lonesome...Hope you enjoy.