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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!

 

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700,000 Reasons Why I Blog/Write

Summer surrounds me in all her glory, but why am I feeling the freezing cold of winter?  Why can’t I just for this once just soak in it’s brilliant rays, relax in the warmth of the summer season? The brighter the sun  shines, the more my restless mind spins out of control. Mental illness is fatal and I’m fighting for my life. Everyday, sunshine or rain makes no difference, I have to fight to calm this war within. I am tired, I am sick and tired of this disorder. When will it end?  When will this war be over?

Sometimes I’m so preoccupied with trying to help others that I forget to take care of myself. Most times I feel I have to be well because I have so many responsibilities and demands to care for others, that I forget I need to be well for me too. If I’m not well then how can I be of help to those around me, especially my sweet Lauren, who depends on me for most everything.. I need to be present for her. no matter how I’m feeling, a really bad day or not, there are no exceptions.

I desperately try everyday to be the best that I can be and lots of days I fall short. Mental illness has stolen so much from me that there’s so little of me left to give. But I do what I can with what I have. Writing as sure been one of my greatest avenues of expressing what mental illness is and helping to unleash my untamed mind. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother, are my thoughts and writing just falling on deaf ears. As this all been in vain?

What is to follow is a presentation that I was supposed to present at one of my book launches, that never happened. To say I was disappointed would have been an understatement. I wasn’t angry about it, I was hurt. For someone dealing with mental illness; this could have been the straw that broke the camel’s back. It was so easy for me to just give up, there and then. But I didn’t and here I am telling my story once again. You may say, “Why bother?” Well here are my reasons to not give up writing, maybe I can just help someone.                                                                                                                                                                           -In any given year, 1 in 5 Canadians experience a mental illness. (Centre for Addiction and Mental Health).                                                                                                                         -By the time Canadians reach 40 years of age,  1 in 2 have or have had a mental illness.                                                                                                                                                                                  -Young people aged 15-24 are more likely to experience mental illness and/or substance use disorders than any other age group.                                                                       -People with substance use disorders are up to 3 times more likely to have a mental illness.                                                                                                                                                               -June 17, 2021 – More than 700,000 people die due to suicide every year. (World Health Organization).                                                                                                               -Suicide is the fourth leading cause of death among 15-29 year olds in the world.                                                                                                                                                                                   -About 4,000 Canadians per year die by suicide – an average of almost 11 suicides a day.                                                                                                                                                             -Worldwide, every 40 seconds, a person dies by suicide due to depression!

These are reasons enough to write; to write a blog, to write a book, to share my thoughts and experiences on my mental illness. My writing will not change the world, but it will help change my little part of the world. It will make me feel; I have done my part. I have done something!

Imagine, just imagine you woke up tomorrow morning and you felt nothing but helplessness, hopelessness and despair.  Well that’s what it’s like for us who suffer from a mental illness, especially those with depression.

I’m not a doctor, I’m not a psychiatrist, psychologist, therapist, none of these. But I am someone who suffered from a mental illness for all my life. This lifetime with mental illness has provided me with a vast knowledge and experience that I would never have learned in a book or gained otherwise; I know first hand. Before you stands the face of mental illness. No masks, no put-ons, no pretending; nothing but the truth. The shameful secret. the silent killer, a broken mind. Total transparency! I cannot cure you, I cannot fix you but I can assure you that ‘I GET IT’ and you are not alone.  Remember everybody’s story is different. This is mine!

I don’t remember not being on an anti depressant medication for my whole adult life. I was 16 years old (1980) when I had my first breakdown. But in 2012 I had a mental breakdown that deemed me non-functioning, a walking corpse, crippled and disabled; not confined to a wheelchair but equally disabled. A brain that shut down, a body that refused to move. During the next few years I tried every medication out there, every cocktail of drugs available to the medical field. Nothing was working; NOTHING! ECT – Electro convulsive therapy was my last hope of escaping this living hell. But much  to my dismay, it did not work. I now had lost all hope of ever getting better.

I kept pushing forward, I had so given up on life. I did not want to live, this illness had taken away my desire to live. This was not living, I was barely surviving. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. I fought with every ounce of strength I had in me to fight this beast I call mental illness. I eventually fought my way back to somewhat of a functioning level. I began to write and found this to be a great source of therapy. I began to blog. It was here you would find what was going on inside this broken mind. Each blog captured my thoughts right in the moment it was written; raw, true, transparent and painful. It was through these writings that I eventually created my book; Beyond The Door – A Journey Through A Lifetime Of Mental Illness.

It is through my writing, my artwork and my faith; that I have found a channel to survival. While I constantly struggle with my illness, I have hope that tomorrow will be a better day. I couldn’t always say that and there are still days when it’s hard to believe but everyday I strive to live and help educate others, break down walls of stigma that have for  years, made mental illness such a misunderstood and taboo illness. The shame associated with it, sadly keep many from seeking help. I hope to put a face to this illness and keep sharing my personal story to help others.

If this book (available at Amazon.ca) doesn’t give you a new perspective and break down some walls of stigma, then I have failed as an author. But I know this book will do even more! It will stir within you a desire to know more, more about this illness, more about this machine we call the mind!

 

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Imagine, Imagine, Imagine!

Imagine if you woke up tomorrow morning to a complete feeling of utter hopelessness, helplessness and despair. Imagine that no matter how hard you try to get out of this dark hole of despair something within your brain/mind keeps pulling you back into this black hole of helplessness and hopelessness. Every thought is an effort, every action feels like an impossibility; you feel totally disabled. Life is happening all around you and you feel like you are suspended in midair; just watching, having no control. This has been my mornings for the past few weeks or maybe I should say years.

When I feel the onset of these thoughts and feelings, I fear that they are an indication of a relapse of a breakdown. And this is something that cannot happen, if there’s something that I can do to deter a relapse of the magnitude of my past breakdowns, then I must do it! There is the danger that I could not survive another shutdown of my body and mind. In my past experiences with the treatment of my illness; I feel little hope. Especially being diagnosed; treatment resistant. My life since 2012, which was my last total breakdown (meaning, deemed non-functioning) has been a struggle everyday. Some days worse then others. But one thing I know for sure, although I am highly medicated, I still fight to have  an okay day.

Having a mental illness with no cure, is frightening in itself but realizing within myself that there is very little help in my case, certainly exacerbates my situation. It certainly leaves me feeling hopeless and helpless, and that’s how I’m feeling right now. And that’s  why I’m writing today: I feel there’s nothing else I can do, writing certainly helps me to express my feelings and thoughts, no matter how horrid and fearful. Sometimes I feel I’m writing a fictitious story about somebody else’s life but to my dismay, this is my own non fictitious life story.

Imagine you wake to another morning and your first plan of attack for survival is, self talk. Self talk has been a tool that I have used to bring me through many very dark days. Self talk is where you repeat a mantra, an affirmation over and over again in your mind. Hoping that eventually you can convince your brain that you are going to be okay. My mantra for this morning is, ‘It’s going to be okay, you are going to be okay’. I just hope I can convince myself of this and I really am going to be okay. I have to be okay, I just have to be okay!

Imagine that this is your life and you feel you are losing control of your health and your life as you know it. Imagine, Imagine, Imagine! What would you do?

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My Untamed Mind

It’s mid afternoon on a beautiful sunny day; I’ve been tortured ever since my eyes were opened to this new day. I knew something was different about today, something more then usual. I felt scared, scared of what? Scared of my own mind and where it was taking me! Most days I can control my thoughts, but not today. My mental illness, my depression, my thorn in the flesh had unleashed its fury and I was in for a fight. A fight that I was afraid I would not win!

My feet hit the floor , I assumed position, knowing I had to face another day. But what was so bad about the day? I was alive, I had a great family, life could be a lot worse but my mind didn’t care about all the good stuff. It only wanted me to see the bad, the ugly, the dark and scary stuff. I tried with all that was within me to distract my dark thoughts but they were winning and I was afraid of where I was heading. Was this going to be a place that I could not pull myself out of. A place that I had no control over.

I hid my shame, my weakness, my fear. On the inside I was a wreak, fighting again this lion within. While on the outside I was a picture of health, a ball of energy, as I meticulously manicured the lawn; just like ‘normal’ people do. But I was feeling anything but normal as I tried my best to be just okay.

There seemed to be no end , the dark , distorted thoughts were holding my mind captive and I just could not escape. No amount of distractions could free me, even for a moment. Were these the same thoughts that invaded the mind of the young lady who tried desperately to take her life but did not succeed or the young man who felt he had no other options left but to end this hell, once and for all. I can’t say I don’t understand why they would do such a thing. I would be the last to pass judgement, the last to question why?

I am so sick and tired of this mind disorder, so tired of this chronic, hellish torment. Hate is not a strong enough word to describe what I feel toward this illness. It is the only illness I know of that steals your desire to live; you live in a body that the mind is trying to kill, a slow, silent death. It sucks your will to live out of you, to a point where life means nothing to you anymore. It makes me angry because someone with cancer are fighting for their life but someone with severe depression is just wanting to die!

I want to live life to the fullest, surviving is not living and when you suffer a mental illness; that’s all you are doing, just surviving. Major depression has taken so much from me, it has stripped me of my self worth, my confidence, my zest for life, my memories and time that I will never get back. And for that, I hate depression, I hate what it has done to me. But I still fight every day, no matter how exhausting, I will fight til I can fight no more. Never giving up hope that one day I will tame this beast of my mind! Hope is what keeps me going, hope is what gives me the will to fight.

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The Unseen Caregivers

I just finished watching a documentary called, ‘UNSEEN’. It was a documentary that was so eye opening, encouraging and was produced to show non caregivers an inside look at the lives of parents of a disabled child. It’s not about being selfish  or about complaining but it’s stating the reality of the unseen caregivers. When you have a baby you have dreams for that child, to walk, to talk, to see. Then off to kindergarten, junior high, play sports, make friends, high school graduation. Then off to College and maybe even get married and have kids of their own. It’s just one big ball of dreams.

But then you have this child with confounded disabilities! What Now? Then your big glass ball of dreams just shatters to the ground and explodes into a million pieces. You immediately fall into a state of unbelief and panic. This is not a path that the majority of parents have to walk on but yet there are thousands of us out there; they are just UNSEEN, sometimes by choice, sometimes its easier for the ‘perfect’ cookie cutter parents to just look the opposite way.

Then you wake up one day and realize – this world wasn’t created for your child and that’s the hardest to accept. But you do what you can to give your child the best life possible because you love them, you love them more then your own life. You want nothing less then the best for them, in this imperfect world that was only designed for the ‘perfect child’. You keep going, you have to keep going because your child needs you but you realize it’s a very lonely path.

Home is supposed to be a sanctuary, but it is sometimes far from that. At times it’s more like a war zone. Some days you find you are hanging on by a thread. The screaming, crying, pain, uncertainties, the worries go on and on, you can’t stop it. We thought that as Lauren would get older  things would get a little easier, but it doesn’t, and this can get very overwhelming. It eventually turns into a constant state of anxiety for the whole family. You are living on the edge, you don’t know what a day is going to bring forth. You are in a fight or flight mode. It affects every area of your lives, your family, your marriage. It feels like some days you are just existing.

Our lives as caregivers never ends and will probably never end. It’s not Lauren’s fault, it’s not our fault,  sacrificing your life for another person  for 24/7, 365 days a year; you love them but that doesn’t make it any easier. Parent caregiving never stops, you know you need a break, but how are you going to get it, it’s next to impossible. We need to decrease the stress in our lives but how do we do that? We need to find a balance but there is no balance in sight.

The system has failed us as parent caregivers, we require mental health resources (I’m not just referring to ourselves but all parent caregivers) , more continuous care and respite. There  is no burden of child, if you care about a disabled child, you have to care for the parent caregivers as well. Most caregivers are not fine and are not doing well and that’s a fact. The older we get the harder it gets. We can’t get sick ourselves, for who would become our child’s caregiver?  Our daughter needs us, no matter what and that’s so overwhelming.

Our glass ball fell and shattered into a million pieces, many years ago now. As life become easier? Not at all. We feel just has overwhelmed now as before., maybe more. We feel just as alone as we did on that dreadful day that Lauren got her diagnosis. But maybe one day some of the pieces of that broken glass ball can be put back together. Just maybe! And the UNSEEN caregivers can see a ray of light!

 

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Accessible and Inclusive

Two words that really weren’t even in our (Lisa and me) vocabulary before we were blessed with our little angel Lauren. Little did we know just how well known these two words would become a part of our everyday life. And certainly not in a positive way but in a fight for your rights kind of way.

Let’s begin by defining what each of these words really mean, what they imply. “Disability inclusion means understanding the relationship between the way people function and how they participate in society, and making sure everybody has the same opportunities to participate in every aspect of life to the best of their abilities and desires.” While accessible means, “ a person with a disability is afforded the opportunity to acquire the same information, engage in the same interactions, and enjoy the same services as a person without a disability in an equally effective and equally integrated manner, with substantially equivalent ease of use”. Those two words would change the world for so many disabled persons if only they were put into practice.

Having a child with a disability opens up a whole new world of challenges that we never knew existed before. Ever since Lauren was diagnosed with spastic quadriplegic cerebral palsy, we have come face to face with the many obstacles that she will have to face; not because of her disability but the roadblocks that society and the world has placed in front of her. Roadblocks that make it near impossible for her to consider her world neither inclusive nor accessible.

They say a picture tells a thousand words. So let me paint you a picture. A little girl sits anxiously in her wheelchair at the entrance of her school playground, while the ‘normal’ kids run freely through the sea of pea stone that covers the floor of the whole playground. She sits there knowing that it would be impossible for her to maneuver her wheelchair through this sinking sea of stone. Then she thinks, even if I could get pass this gate, then what?? She realized that there’s not one piece of equipment that is accessible. Someone had forgotten about those two words, accessible and inclusive, while making plans for her school playground. After all, it’s her playground too! Isn’t it? So she turns around and leaves…

I could paint pictures on top of pictures of examples where Lauren was unfairly and unjustly misjudged because of her being in a wheelchair, enough to fill an art gallery. One assumption that I must mention; that being, she’s in a wheelchair, therefore she must be delayed mentally. The only person that is mentally delayed is someone who thinks this way. Lauren is one of the smartest little girls I have ever met; she could teach the wisest among us a thing or two.

I won’t elaborate any further, there’s just no need. I think you get my point. If we are going to have an inclusive and accessible society then we have a lot of work to do. But in order to change our world, we must put those in a wheelchair and with other disabilities in the forefront, not on the backseat. Maybe ‘walk’ a mile in their shoes. It’s then we will see change; accessible and inclusive will become a normal part of all our lives, none excluded!

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Being Strong

Darkness falls around me like a shroud. It’s not the darkness I fear but the night. My dreams are haunted by the never ending trauma of my past. But yet I sleep to escape the torment of the day, a reprieve from reality. My nightmares devour my only since of peace. Maybe, just maybe, tonight will be different; peace and calm will flood my mind leaving no space for terror. How I long for peace of mind, the end to my battlefield, the never ending struggle to just survive. Depression and anxiety has stolen anything that resembles a ‘normal’ life. It is my deepest longing to just be okay, to just feel ‘normal’ for once, to love life.

Morning comes again bringing with it the light of a new day. But I know today will be a struggle, most days are, some worse then others. I know this all sounds horrible and who would want to read such depressing and hopeless accounts of a day in the life of a struggling mentally ill person. But it is what it is! Try living with it for day in and day out. Not much fun believe me. I guess when I say mentally ill, many people conjure up ideas of a ravenous lunatic, an out of control insane person. But depression/anxiety is probably the exact opposite. Depression for me can be compared to being in a constant state of grief, that never really goes away. And this so interferes with the function of life’s everyday tasks and stresses. Life as to move on but it’s like I’m always trying to play catch up, but I never really do.

I can’t remember how many times I’ve said I’m fine just because I didn’t want to burden others with just how I was really feeling. Ashamed to admit to the truth of how I really felt. So everyday I fight, fight to be okay. But I’m tired, tired of being strong when really I’m not strong at all. The ‘cover’ to my book may look great on the outside but on the inside it’s ripped and torn. So like the old saying goes, ‘Never judge a book by it’s cover’. Afraid that if I open the cover, the pages of my heart would fall out for all the world to see, and if they saw maybe they would judge me and consider it all weakness. When all along I know it can’t be weakness, I ‘know’ it’s not weakness but my mind tells me it is. And everyday I tell myself, over and over again, that it’s not what I feel but what I know. I cannot live my life by feelings but what I know to be the truth. And to live with this hellish disorder of the brain; I have to be strong in order to survive.

Tomorrow may be a ‘good’ day and by a good day I am not defining it by those who do not suffer from a mental illness, there’s no comparison. I live my life by hope, hoping that tomorrow will be a good day. If I lost my will to hope, I would have nothing left but an empty well of darkness. So I will press on, I will not quit the fight, even when overwhelming fatigue and exhaustion have left me lifeless; I will not give in. I will fight for my life. To those who are struggling and feel like you have no hope, take it from me, if I can do it, then so can you. I believe in you!

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This Thing We Call Life!

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.”

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Hey, check out my website, “Art by Harris” with this link: https://www.harrisartisticdesigns.com/