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My Mental Health Update

It seems like forever since I wrote about my mental health/illness/disorder. I guess that there’s so much else going on that there as been little time to write. But today I’m sitting on a flight to Montreal with not much else to do. So I guess this time gives me the opportunity to do a little mental health update.

Most days I must say are fairly well, I have certainly improved since moving to CBS. Not that life as gotten any easier but I think I’m at a different stage of my recovery. Notice I said, ‘recovery’ not cure. I know my diagnosis is a chronic, clinical depression and anxiety disorder to which there is no cure. By recovery I am referring to a more functioning level whereby I am in more control of my illness then it is in control of me. I guess you could say the tables have turned to some degree. This has certainly not happened overnight but over months of hard work, therapy and self discipline. I have had to work intensely in every area of my life; physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually and psychologically. Finding a balance in life and not forgetting about my own self care. Sometimes in our lives we forget to take care of ourselves when we are so busy taking care of everyone else. This is not at all being selfish but realizing that in order to take care of others we have to take care of ourselves first.

It was probably about a year since I had a panic attack, what I would call a full blown panic attack; the kind that frightens you to death. It happened on our last trip to Montreal, during Lauren’s trial baclofen surgery. I was abruptly awakened from my sleep at about 5am by shear panic, the kind that puts you into a fight or flight response and I was in flight mode. I just wanted to run but run where I had no idea. I tried to talk myself through it but it was not working, which only made the attack to escalate. I knew I had to do something and fast, so I jumped into a cold shower. And believe it or not, it really did redirect my thoughts and reduced my panic tremendously. But thankfully I have not had another one since that night. And that’s the scary thing about panic attacks; you never know when one can strike and how long it can last.

Right now I am so thankful that I am doing as well as I am. And I will take what I can get and enjoy the good days to the fullest, live in the moment as best I can, the past is gone and the future is not here.

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Lauren’s Next Journey

“When a train goes through a tunnel and it gets dark, you don’t throw away the ticket and jump off. You sit still and trust the engineer” Little did I realize when I posted this quote by Corrie Ten Boom, to my Facebook page, that it wouldn’t be long after that my trust would be put to the test. Trust isn’t something that I do easily. To trust is to put your firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something, now that is not easy to do.                                                                                                                                                                                                          A good example of trust would be; when we go for surgery and  are about to be put to sleep, you have no choice but to put your full trust into the medical team that they will do everything humanly possible to perform a successful surgery. Are we guaranteed beyond a shadow of a doubt that everything will go fine? No we are not! But we have to trust that it will. So we have to willfully surrender our very lives to the medical professionals and hope that all will go well. TRUST!

Just after I posted that quote, Lisa’s phone rang. Now it’s been months that we have been waiting for a call from the Shriners Hospital for Children in Montreal. The purpose of this call would be to notify us of a time when Lauren’s surgery would be taking place. The surgery itself would be the first of two, the other which would depend on the success of the first and would be done at a later date. This first surgery would be a trial surgery to determine if a baclofen pump would be suitable for Lauren. The actual baclofen pump implantation is a surgical procedure performed to permanently implant a pump that delivers baclofen to the spinal fluid to treat Lauren’s severe spasticity and dystonia that is refractory to oral medication in Lauren’s case.

I knew by the look on Lisa’s face, what this call was all about. As much as we were anticipating this call, you can never prepare yourself for it. We knew that this was just the beginning of another long journey that we so didn’t want to put Lauren through again. The call confirmed that Lauren’s surgery would take place on June 7th. You see, Lauren has already endured more pain in her short life, then most adults experience in a lifetime. Where is the fairness in this? Why do we have to expose her to this trauma once again? Why can’t God just release her of this horrible disease? Didn’t He say, “Suffer the little children to come to me and forbid them not…”? So many whys! Not a lot of answers. I believe we are well into our right to question. Who in their right mind would want to expose their child to pain?

But yet there are no other alternatives, no other choices! So we are left to, TRUST! Trust that the medical field know what is best for Lauren and that God knows best. Both of which require us to surrender our trust and faith into someone outside ourselves. Placing Lauren’s life into the hands of someone else other then our self. Now, that my friend,  is not easy to do. Being a Christian doesn’t make that decision any easier, doesn’t mean that we can’t question, and have concerns and worries. After all, we are human and God totally understands. Jesus himself questioned God when He said, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ WHY?

In spite of our human weakness, we realize we have to trust, once again, into an higher power.  For without trusting, what are we left with? Nothing, no hope, nothing. So we will trust and pray that everything goes well and this surgery will give Lauren a little better quality of life. It’s all we can ask for.

 

 

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I’m A Christian And I Suffer From A Mental Illness

I’m a Christian and I suffer from a mental illness. Many would say, ‘but how can that be?’ Aren’t Christians suppose to have it all together when it comes to their mental health? No they are not, there are no exemptions, just as we suffer from physical illnesses, we also may suffer from mental illness. We need to realize that mental illness is NOT a spiritual battle but an ILLNESS. And once we come to this knowledge we break down the walls of stigma, judgment and condemnation; which so prevalently surround someone who suffers from mental illness and who profess to be a Christian. We can live a Christian life and yet suffer from a mental illness. I am testimony to that fact. And I am not ashamed to admit that I still suffer from major depression and anxiety disorder.

Because I have something wrong mentally does not mean it affects me spiritually, no more than there would be something wrong spiritually if I had heart disease. To the contrary really; because of my suffering I depend on an higher power to strengthen me and guide me through each day. I have come to realize that there are things in my life that I cannot control and it is those things that I release and surrender to God. I realize that not all our sickness, whether mentally or physically, are healed. He did NOT promise us a life without trials and tribulation. But He DID promise that when we do, that He would be by our side, He would be in the storm with us. Isaiah 43:2 states it so clearly, “When you pass through the waters (and we will), I WILL BE WITH YOU; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.” He’s saying that when we pass through the waters, the rivers and walk through the fire; that He will be with us. And that is how I have endured the flames that mental illness has brought into my life; He has walked with me, every step of the way. Even in those times when I felt I was drowning in the floods of depression and felt that God was nowhere to be found; He was and is still there!

Many would also say, “but doesn’t the bible say in Philippians 4:6, Be anxious for nothing…” Yes it surely does say that. But anxiety disorder is completely different from everyday anxiousness. Most anxiety disorders can cause such distress that it interferes with our ability to lead a normal life. This type of disorder is a serious mental illness which can be disabling. Anxiety disorders include panic attacks, social anxiety, phobias and generalized anxiousness. If we as Christians could see this again as an illness, then there would be no need for us to feel guilty or ashamed and want to hide our illness but would talk about it openly and without judgment.

But sadly, even in 2023, many Christians hide their illness and the way they are truly feeling for fear of being misjudged, stigmatized and treated as being ‘different’. When in reality we are normal, ordinary people who are suffering and hurting from a mental illness. If you are one of those Christians who are suffering in silence, be assured that you are loved, understood and cared for by an Heavenly Father who is ‘touched by the feelings of our infirmities’. He will never leave us or forsake us!

In conclusion I would like to quote an excerpt from my book, “Beyond The Door – A Journey Through A Lifetime Of Mental Illness.” (Available on Amazon.ca). “For centuries, the Church has often looked upon mental illness as a spiritual battle; good vs. evil. It is not a character flaw, a weakness, a lack of faith, or an unworthy relationship with God.” It is what it is, in reality, mental illness is just that, an “ILLNESS”. And yes I am a Christian and I also have a mental illness!

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Let’s Talk

Mental health matters and so does each person with a mental illness. We are not  alone, 1 in 5 Canadians suffer from a ,mental illness of some form or another, I believe that over the past few years, especially during Covid, that we are in a mental health crisis. Mental illness has no respect of persons, no one is exempt, no one! Mental illness has touched the lives of all of us, whether that being ourselves directly or someone we know.

Today is “Bell Let’s Talk” day. So, let’s talk! My name is Harris Tucker and I suffer from a mental illness! I have nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to hide; I have an illness, it’s that simple. No need to be stigmatized, no need to be misunderstood, no room for prejudice, no need to feel alone. This is why I have talked about my illness with openness, transparency and truth; hiding nothing. My advocacy for mental illness can be found on my website at www.harrislisa72.com and also through my book, “Beyond The Door, My Journey Through A Lifetime Of Mental Illness”, available through Amazon.ca. It’s through both of these avenues that I have shared my story, my life and my experiences with;  major depression and anxiety disorder. Bell’s campaign, ‘Let’s Talk’ certainly motivates us all to share our story. How else will others know and understand what mental health is all about, if we don’t  talk about it?  So let’s talk and talk some more, let’s never stop talking. And eventually the walls of stigma will come down and all those who are suffering, will suffer in silence no more but will talk of their illness has free has talking about any physical illness.

In the last few months I have worked on my mental health so intently because if I didn’t I would once again end up in that dark hole with no end in sight. I have to give some credit for my improvement to my medical team; my family doctor, my psychiatrist and therapist who have so caringly given me the tools and encouragement that I needed to get to where I am today, which is a much better place. A place where I can find some light, a place of hope and a reason to love myself and live, in spite of my  mental illness. It’s been a long journey back to a form of recovery, I know I’m not cured, there is no cure, but I am so thankful to be able to say that I am at a better place then I have been in years. And much appreciation also goes to my family and my heavenly Father who have walked this journey with me and have never left me and I’m sure will continue to walk with me.

I am especially drawn to those who suffer with depression and anxiety because I know how they feel, I get it. I have been where they are. But I want to tell you now; no matter how dark the day – there is light, no matter how hopeless you feel – there is hope, and no matter how worthless you feel – you matter, you are worthy! Just hang in there; after the darkness comes the dawn. The light will shine again!! I know because I have been there!

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Tomorrow Will Be Better

I can’t believe that today is December 1st and before we know it it’ll be Christmas once again. Time seems to fly no matter what. It only seems like yesterday that I wrote my last blog entitled, ‘ A Relapse?’ I have hesitated to write an update to that blog simply because I wonder: why? Why bother, why take the time to write, why make my illness an open book for all to see and read? And in so doing opening myself up to judgement by others, being stigmatized, misunderstood and exposed to much prejudice by those who don’t understand or just don’t care to understand. But then I remind myself, I do this to help others, especially for those who suffer in silence, to those who don’t have a voice because it’s through speaking out and sharing our own experience with mental illness that others will begin to understand and break down the walls of stigma. So here I am again with an update on my mental health status after my relapse.

A couple of months ago I realized I was relapsing when I started having panic attacks, I lost interest in doing anything that once brought me such joy, not only did I lose interest, but I lost the motivation to do them. These were sure signs that I was rapidly spiraling down a dark hole, a place that I could not visit again. So began the hard work of keeping myself from going any deeper into this dark hole. I was determined to fight this beast with every ounce of strength that I have in me.

In my last blog I introduced you to my plan of attack. First I had to admit and realize that I needed help and I had to reach out to others who could support or give me direction I needed to take to overcome. My family doctor, my psychiatrist and therapist gave me the tools I needed, now it was up to me to do the work and work I did!

Once the kids were off to school, my work began. No matter how cold it was outside, I pushed myself out the door and went for a 30 minute walk. Now to those who are well this doesn’t seem like much but to me this seemed like a mountain, a marathon. I also practiced mindfulness and meditation throughout the day; I constantly reminded myself to stay in the moment. This also may seem easy to do but for me, it was near impossible but I had to do it. It’s now been about six weeks since I started my uphill journey to getting well and by well I don’t mean cured; I wish! By well I mean being able to feel in control of my mental illness and not the other way around. There’s nothing more scary then feeling you are not in control of your own well being and life. I have already accepted the fact that I have a chronic illness, not unlike any chronic physical illness, where both need constant medical attention.

Today I’m feeling hopeful, I haven’t had a panic attack in about two weeks. I know I have a long way to go but I find hope in the little things; each small improvement is a milestone for me. So it is with great determination that I keep moving forward and upward. That I make the best of each day, one day at a time, weather that be a good day or a bad day. If you are struggling today, don’t give up, keep fighting, tomorrow will be better!

 

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A Relapse?

When I finished writing my book; my story did not end there, my struggle with depression and anxiety continued. I still continue to blog my journey at www.harrislisa72.com. I write as therapy for myself, a means of helping others who struggle and also a way of challenging those who may not understand this illness. This blog will take us down the road of the last few months of my painful and frightening journey.

A relapse? Oh no, that cannot happen and will not happen, I won’t let it happen. Weeks have gone by and I’ve really struggled; I mean REALLY struggled. To make a traumatic experience even more traumatic; I now experience something I feared for years now, that would be panic attacks. They are so frightening, making you feel you are losing ‘it’, you are losing control, your body temperature rises, you break out in body sweats, you panic; really panic…. you cannot breathe. You want to run! But run where?  I have learned so much over the years about panic attacks, that I thought I had them under control but I was wrong. Here I was in a full blown panic attack, how could this be happening? After all, didn’t my medication have this horrific symptom of depression and anxiety under control? Now I was really afraid, afraid of returning to an hell I knew I would never survive again.

Life was tough as it were, every day a struggle, every day a challenge. Nothing came easy and I was fighting for my life as it were. I certainly didn’t need anything else to make it even harder. My mornings became my nightmares, I dreaded for my eyes to open, given my present state I didn’t know how I was going to make it through another day. But I knew I had to, there were people depending on me, especially my two children; who became my will to live. Consumed by my depression, anxiety and now once again my panic attacks. I have to survive, somehow.

My nights have become my reprieve, it seemed a cloud would lift once evening came and darkness settled in.  I felt if I made it past daylight then I had survived another day. I longed for bedtime, for I knew sleep would help me escape this never ending battlefield of my mind.

So how do I survive? I have to believe I will get well; I done this before and I will do it again. Please God! You have to talk to someone, don’t suffer in silence, so I tell Lisa (my wife) what’s going on. Then it’s back to my psychiatrist who increased my effexor from 300mg to 375mg and just hope that this increase is going to work, now it’s a waiting game. But while I wait it doesn’t end there, I visit my family doctor who orders bloodwork to make sure there’s nothing physically wrong that can cause these symptoms. Next its finding a good therapist, which I did, and now starts the cognitive behavioral therapy once again. Has scary as all this is for me I know I have to keep moving forward, being gentle on myself and taking baby steps. To help my progress I also go for a 30minute walk, I do a lot of self talk, self affirmation and just believe I’m going to be okay.

This journey has been anything but easy. I have to believe there is a higher power that is going to walk this journey with me because there is nothing that feels any worse then feeling you are alone. With my family support, medical support and spiritual support; I WILL SURVIVE!

 

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Make Me An Instrument

I sit in my office desperately trying to catch my thoughts as they race around my head in a halo of madness. Fighting this war of the mind seems like there is no end. Suffering from clinical depression and major anxiety has left me in survival mode, trying to make sense of my broken mind; and yes, it’s broken. It took me a long time to come to this realization, that it’s okay, I’m not a lunatic, I’m just ill. On days that I’m feeling I’m losing this fight, to remind myself that I need to be kind to myself. Just as I would if I had a physical illness because at it’s most fundamental, depression is a physical illness. It’s an illness that affects an organ of my body called the brain and it’s ability to work properly, just as diabetes is a problem with the organ of the body that we call the pancreas. And when I look at it in that light, it makes me feel more ‘normal’ and my depression is an illness; not a character flaw or a personal defect.

My heart goes out to all those who are suffering from this horrible illness. Especially those who have little or no support and those who are suffering in silence who are ashamed to tell someone, in fear that they would be looked upon as weak. This is not an illness of weakness but of constant torment that physically drains your body to a point of exhaustion. So let’s stop looking at ourselves has weak and realize we are strong and courageous because if we weren’t, we would never survive.

I know this illness steals from us the mere glimmer of hope, light and joy; the fundamental aspects of what life is made of.  If we lose hope, we are left with nothing, if we cannot see the light we are left in darkness and if we lose our joy, we will drown in sadness. Today I want to encourage those who are walking this road of discouragement caused by depression and anxiety that there is hope, there is light, there is joy…. there as to be!

And lastly I would like to leave you with this prayer by Saint Francis called; “Peace Prayer Of Saint Francis”. It is my prayer too, may it be the prayer of all our hearts;

Lord, make me  an instrument of peace :

Where there is hatred, let me sow love;

where there is injury, pardon;

where there is doubt, faith;

where there is despair, hope;

where there is darkness, light;

where there is sadness, joy.

O divine Master, grant that I

may not so much seek

to be consoled as to console,

to be understood as to understand,

to be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive,

it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,

and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

AMEN.

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Every Life Matters

I often thought throughout my lifetime that there was something that was just not right. Even as a child I had emotions and thoughts that a child need not have. I would worry over the least little thing, I would often cry myself to sleep; but why?  Anxiety flooded my being, even when I didn’t know what anxiety meant. Behind those big brown eyes, there lived a child in despair, a child dealing with what should only be adult worries and concerns. Looking back over all those years, I realize today that I struggled with a mental illness, even then as a child, I suffered with a broken mind. And sad to say, that little boy still struggles today. There was never a cure, never did my wounds heal and what did heal left unimaginable scars.

Fifty-seven years have come and gone, yet today I’m still struggling; fighting an illness that is genetically hidden in my DNA. Not unlike someone that was predisposed to some other neurological, physical or psychological disorder/disability. I may not be confined to a wheelchair, but none the less; disabled. Depression and anxiety changes who you are, the person who I was is long gone. Now I have to accept my new ‘normal’; a normal that is so far from anything but ‘normal’. A normal that I hate but so far out of my control. I struggle so much just to do the simple things, that once I just took for granted. Just driving my car, the anxiety that creates would stop me from driving at all; if I let it. It may not stop me but it sure limits to where I can drive. Then there’s the anxiety of being in a crowd, I can’t breath, I’m overwhelmed, but no one knows because they cannot physically see what I’m feeling inside. Those are just two examples of what someone experiences who struggles with an anxiety disorder, and believe me there are lots more.

The news came once again recently, that someone I knew died by suicide. The tragedy in all of this is not only the passing of this person but the stigma, the shame and the judgment that comes with it; and that’s the biggest tragedy of all. We are so quick to pass judgment, when in reality that is not our place to do so. Majority of people that die by suicide are certainly not in the frame of mind to make such a decision if they weren’t suffering from some form of mental or neurological disorder. The disorder has changed who that person really is and was before their illness. So please let’s not judge anyone, because no one is exempt, no one! But let’s console those who are grieving, and allow them to grieve with respect and honor , without shame or embarrassment. That would be the thing to do, every life matters, so be kind and compassionate.

So today I live on, I fight with all that is within me. I try to help those who are struggling themselves, to help them see that maybe tomorrow will be better, just maybe.

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Start All Over Again

It seems like summer is flying by and before long the kids will all be back to that hateful word they call, “school”. But having said that, both Logan and Lauren just love school and are anticipating going back, I think Lauren loved it so much that she would have skipped summer holidays altogether. Now as their parents, I think we are kind of looking forward to getting back into a routine and a scheduled daily practice. Whatever the case, before we know it Fall will be on the horizon. Maybe one of the most beautiful seasons of the year with it’s exquisite array of earth tone colours blanketing the landscape all around us.

For now, let’s stay in the summer season and not wish away the time. I certainly wouldn’t do that, I wish summer could last forever. This has been one of the better summers I had in a long time, mentally speaking, not saying that it hasn’t had it’s share of struggles and challenges. The Spring and early Summer for me was a tough time, my mental health wasn’t what I would call great; I was fighting just to be okay. It got to a point where I knew I had to do something medically or if not I was spiralling downward into that dark hole of despair. As I already alluded to this in my previous blog, my doctor did prescribe 2mg of Abilify to my already existing regimen of medication.And to my amazement I believe it has helped me in a way that I have more energy, I now want to do things, I don’t have that hopeless and helpless feeling of utter grief. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not doing any cartwheels but neither am I nonfunctioning; there are some things that I now can do that I couldn’t do before. And sometimes it’s those little things that matter the most, the things that most people probably take for granted. But for someone like myself who suffers from chronic depression and anxiety, every little thing matters so much. The reason being, that in a moment all of that could change. But that is why I live in the moment or at least I desperately try to. I try not to dwell on the past or the future but I live for the moment because really that is all we are guaranteed and all that we really have.

Having a predisposed genetic mental illness leaves you with that fear that you are not totally in control of your own mental health. Yes, you can do everything right, everything that is medically available to you, everything that you know that could improve your mental health but there are no guarantees. Although I’m feeling okay right now (I didn’t say perfect or great or cured); I’m okay. But down in the recesses of my mind lurks that ever present monster, just waiting to pounce, waiting to devour you and leave you mentally drained and exhausted.

I live with that fear every day, does that fear always win? No, but on bad days, days that I have no control over; I lose my battle. But then I start all over again. And that’s what I have to do; start all over again! Never give up, never give in! Fight!

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Today is a ‘GOOD’ Day

Ten years have flown by since my mental breakdown in 2012. And for those years I cannot recall having what I could say was a ‘good’ day. Everyday was a struggle, everyday a fight, everyday a battle to just survive.

The past couple of months had me in a frenzy, I was in a state of panic, a fear that I was getting worse or even on the brink of a relapse. I knew I had done everything possible to keep my mental health at a functioning level but I realized I was loosing this war once again.  And I was heading back to hell but I was determined never to go there again.

So I took matters into my own hands and realized what I had to do at this point to prevent a relapse. I wasted no time in making an appointment to see my doctor. I sat in her office and unleashed my bent up emotions and talked to her about every thought that was causing my brain to race like an hamster on a spinning wheel; running but going nowhere. She listened with an undivided attention, soaking in every word. She was listening!

Once I was done my ‘speech’ and looked at her with the eyes of a dying puppy; she knew I needed help, I was desperate. My heavy eyes told a story of horror and hopelessness. But she reassured me that it was going to be okay, that there was hope. Her advice to me was to first start by increasing my mirtazapine, which I had no objection to. Nothing else was working for me and I was totally helpless, drowning in a sea of despair. But this was going to be my first plan of attack; to increase one of my medications.

Two weeks went by, I felt nothing, no change either way. I knew deep down that this wasn’t working. After a little over three weeks I could take it no more, something else had to be done. Once again I made a virtual appointment to talk to my doctor again. She knew before I could even tell  her that this wasn’t the answer. The next tool from her toolbox was to add another antidepressant (Abilify) to my already existing maxed out Effexor; I was at the maximum dose that a patient could take. So she decided to cautiously try me on a very low dosage (2mg) of Abilify. I hung up the phone and prayed to God to please let this one give me at least a little relief; a little was better then none at all.

To my amazement and optimistic anticipation, I felt something that I haven’t felt in years. I was and still am afraid to get my hopes up, to be hopeful because I have had my hopes shattered so many times over the past years. I will take this one day at a time. If I get a good day here and a good day there, then I’ll take it.  Anything is better then what I had lived with for the past ten years. But this medication seems different, almost like nothing I experienced before. It has settled my racing mind, maybe even giving me a feeling of hopefulness. But deep down I’m scared, scared that this is not going to last, that it is all just wishful thinking. But I  pray I’m wrong and this medication really is going to be my miracle, my light in the darkness, my sunshine in the rain.

Even if this reprieve doesn’t last, I will remember this short but amazing sense of freedom from my mind, even if it’s only for a few weeks. My heart is filled with so much gratitude and thankfulness that my cup overflows. Is my days of fighting this horrible illness over? I don’t know but today I’m having a ‘GOOD’ day and as the tears flow down my face, for once they are tears of joy. Like any illness, we are never guaranteed a complete cure; there is always the fear of it’s ugly return. But for today I’m having a ‘good’ day!