Author: harrisclyde@hotmail.com

https://facebook.com/events/s/beyond-the-door-art-exhibit-an/1164395347695501/

Amidst world devastation and uncertainty imposed by President Putin and the Russian regime on, not only Ukraine but the whole world, we all try our best to maneuver our way through this thing we call, LIFE. For some it ‘seems’ that life is a walk in the park. While for others, it’s a never ending battle to just survive. I won’t speak any further on the horrific war in Ukraine because I am certainly not an expert in that area. I certainly won’t turn a blind eye to what’s happening in the world but right now that can be just a little overwhelming. But I will speak on what I know best, that being my journey through life with a mental illness and how that affects every area of our/my life.

Today and for the pass several days, I’ve been in isolation in the bunker of our basement, cut off from the rest of my family and the world, fighting this horrible virus that we are all too familiar with, COVID! I haven’t been able to comment on this virus personally because I never had it before. But now I can! For those who have minimized this variant called omicron and have let down your guard, please remember our most vulnerable and our death rates; these people matter too! I am doing what I have to do to protect both my kids, especially my daughter who has CP and my elderly mother in law (who is staying at our house) both who are extremely vulnerable. My own personal experience with omicron is far from mild; I can barely lift my head off the pillow, therefore I’ve been out of production for days, unable to function! And believe me when I say, I cannot be sick, Lisa and I are Lauren’s 24/7 caregivers and yesterday Lisa tested positive for Covid. So I’m praying Lisa won’t get really sick, at least not until I am well enough to take over the care for everyone in our household. This has yet again been a nightmare!

I guess if I can say, ‘there has been a little flicker of excitement this week, despite everything else.’ My book, ‘Beyond the Door’ is now published and available for distribution. The best place to purchase your copy would be at Amazon.ca. This book will never make me rich, it was never about that. It was time, time to tell my story, time to find a source of therapy to release the raging war within my mind, a time to let others know that they were not alone and to help them to realize that the light will shine again for those who are in the depths of darkness. Then lastly, this book should give those who have never suffered a mental illness, a better understanding, a new way of looking at this so stigmatized, prejudicial and isolating illness. So please get your copy and let’s break down some walls! Let’s talk!

I guess my purpose in writing today is threefold. One, it’s something I can do without having to lift my head off my pillow. Two, writing helps with my mental health, which at the moment I wouldn’t say was that great, isolation does nothing for one’s mental well-being. And thirdly, to remind us all that we need each other, we must never take our health for granted and do whatever it takes to protect ourselves and others from harm, no matter what the cost. War can teach us one thing and that is the selflessness of those who so freely give of their lives to save the lives of others.

“Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”

I may have ‘thought’ I had this thing called depression all figured out. But I’ve come to the realization that there is really no figuring it out. After my long life of living with, sometimes just surviving, this maddening disease, I have come to the conclusion that there is no such thing has letting my guard down. And even if I did, it would make no difference; this monster could attack at any time.

The last few days have been a fury of unsettling depressive symptoms. My will to just move felt impossible; my body was in a paralyzed state as it were. Depression had invaded my mobility and mind to a point where I just did not have the ability to move. Not that I didn’t want to, because I knew I had to, if I were to overcome this tsunami of overwhelming emotions, then I had to move. But not even moving would awaken the desire to do anything that I would normally love to do; not even painting or writing. I needed to do either for therapy but I could not. I felt numb, lifeless and worthless. And try as I might, I could not fight my way back to ‘the moment’.

There is a large discrepancy and many misconceptions when referring to; mild depression and clinical / major depression. One, major depression is a chronic disorder for which there is no cure, whereas mild depression only last a few weeks or months. Secondly, the severity of your symptoms for major depression are far greater then those of a mild case of depression. Thirdly, an episode of mild depression is usually brought on by a distressful life event, whereas a relapse of major depression may be triggered by a traumatic experience but not always the case. Sometimes a debilitating relapse can occur for no reason at all. This is more the probability of what is happening to me at this point in my illness. Lastly, with mild depression the duration of the episode can last up to six months but there is hope of a complete recovery. I remember when I was officially diagnosed with major depression, I was told there was no cure and the best that the medical field could do was to get me back to a functioning level, not a full recovery. To this day I still get angry at this diagnosis but I am desperately trying to live at a functioning level, one day at a time, and there are some days when that’s not possible. And the past few days that’s where I am.

I hope this blog has given you a better understanding of my illness, an illness that I believe is so misunderstood, so stigmatized and so belittling. I talk about my illness, certainly not for the fame it would bring me but to educate others, encourage others and to just TALK about this , what some would call, a shameful disease. But on my ‘good days’ I feel I have nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to hide, nothing to make me feel like a failure, a hopeless cause, a nobody. Because the reality is, this disorder will convince your brain just that. But today I’m reminding myself; I’m a somebody, I’m of worth, I’m not hopeless.

The campaign for BELL/Let’s Talk is soon getting underway once again and this has proven to be a great tool. The ironic thing for me when I am not feeling well, is that I don’t want to talk, it’s the last thing I want to do. But I am so thankful for the times when I am well enough and I do want to talk about my illness. And then there are times when I don’t want others to talk to me, I just need someone to listen. If someone you know is suffering from depression, please be that listening ear, sometimes that’s all is required!

I can’t remember the last time I wrote a blog. Blogging was always a form of therapy, a way to unleash my crowded mind of its unbearable thoughts. I was doing fairly well, fairly meaning still struggling but holding it together. But lately my “holding it together’ was falling apart. My depression and anxiety disorder was playing havoc on my life; I’ve been fighting to keep it all together, sort of speak. But fighting is leaving me exhausted, so tired of dealing with this beast every day of my life.

It’s been years now since my last breakdown. And no, I don’t mind saying , ‘breakdown’, or mental illness, depression, anxiety, suicide, etc. It’s no secret I have a mental illness; major depression and anxiety disorder. I suffer everyday, I fight everyday, some days more then others. The last few days I am really fighting, at times it seems I’m fighting a losing battle. Each morning I get out of bed I pray that today would be a ‘good day’, I cannot lose hope, for hope is what keeps me going. So this morning when my eyes opened to face another day, I knew I just didn’t feel ‘right’.  My body felt like it was carrying a heavy load, a heavy burden, a load that I just didn’t have the strength to carry anymore. Worn out, beaten down with life and it’s many struggles, hardships and uncertainties. In a world that was not an ideal environment for someone struggling with depression and anxiety. So much was happening, things that someone with good mental health would even struggle with. So here I am writing; writing to heal my broken mind but also writing to help someone else who is battling this awful illness, this stigmatized and misunderstood disorder.

I have questioned myself in those last few months of ever writing a blog again; I do so with great caution. Sometimes I wonder , what’s the point? Am I helping anyone? Or am I just giving others a reason to judge, discriminate and stigmatize me for my mental illness. It seems our world has gone a little crazy; the divisiveness, the outspokenness, harshness and hatefulness that have stemmed from the Covid pandemic has spread like wildfire. The push for vaccinations and now vaccination passports have given so many the “right” to fight. It’s gotten to a point where I’m hesitant to post on social media because it gives some the opportunity to lash out, to attack, to harshly respond and speak what they would never say to your face. The stress of this pandemic has made us all a little crazy, praying that one day we could put all this behind us and we can start living our new normal, whatever that may be.

Let’s get off the topic of Covid, I believe it has taken up too much of our time, our thinking and life in general. Don’t get me wrong, it is still our responsibility to do what is right to stop this virus and to just use our common sense. Now having said that, let’s move on. Yesterday was tough day to say the least. We all deal with our own pain, you may not be dealing with a mental illness but no doubt you have your own pain, not always physical. Life can bring so much pain, in so many ways. It was yesterday, I just had to get out of the house, so I went to Starbucks. It was my first time being there in years, as I sat there alone my mind travelled back to days when Lisa and I popped out for coffee whenever we felt like it, those days are long gone. The responsibility of caring for a disabled child certainly limits what we can do; even something as simple has going out for a coffee. Something that most just take for granted. We fail now to take for granted even those little things because it’s the ‘little’ things that mean the most.

Im not complaining, just saying it like it is. Life for caregivers of disabled loved ones is anything but easy. When Lauren was diagnosed with spastic quadriplegia cerebral palsy, our lives were changed forever, the bad and the good. Two of such caregivers that have taught me so much about love, selflessness, acceptance, caring and patience were my two Aunts;  Aunt Celia Vincent and Aunt Lily Williams. They were angels on earth and if I could learn from them the true meaning of giving; they devoted their lives to caring for their disabled loved ones. They could have become so bitter but they chose to live life and love life in spite of their circumstances. There’s a very special place in Heaven for my two Aunts who gave so freely of themselves and lived a life of Christ-likeness. May I live up to their example of what a true Christian should be, what a true human being should be. The hardships in their lives did not break them but only made them stronger.

So today I’m fighting to hold it together, today I’m not feeling all that strong, afraid that if I let my guard down for just one second, I would fall apart. The pieces of my brokenness would be forever shattered and nothing could put me back together again. And that is what depression and anxiety can do, it can destroy your very soul, your very being and leave you without a will to live. That my friend is the danger of this illness, for you see, no other illness known to man can steal your will to live. It is this instinct within us that gives us the will to live, gives us the strength to fight for our lives. But when this will to live is taken from us, stolen by this evil called depression; then we are left powerless, empty, alone and hopeless. So in my weakness, I will still fight, I will not lose hope, I will live in spite of my illness. And for those out there who have experienced or are experiencing what I’m talking about, from the words of Dr. Fitzgerald (NL’s Chief Medical Officer), “Hold Fast” we will endure and never give up! We can “Hold it Together”, even when it feels we are falling apart!