Because He Lives I Can Face Today

I awakened with that ever abiding voice of depression. I pushed myself out of bed, not because I was lazy and didn’t want to get out but I was paralyzed, disabled by my broken mind. The thoughts of facing the day scared me to death. How can I do this again?  Can’t this just stop, can’t I just live a ‘normal’ life for a change. I dragged myself to the kitchen table with my caffeine fix in my hand and threw myself onto the chair. My head was in a total fog. I looked at my wife and said, “Can’t I just have one good day?’ But I knew it wasn’t going to be today. To wake up every morning and have this overwhelming weight of the world on my shoulders, I was exhausted even before my day began.

We just celebrated the Easter season, a time of victory, joy and celebration for the Christian. A time when Jesus provided for all humanity the only way to the Father, that being the shedding of His blood. Romans 10:9 ‘If thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shall believe in thine heart that God hath raised Him from the dead, thou shalt be saved.’ Having a mental illness has taken away the ability for me to fully experience the joyous feeling of the resurrection but I have learned that I now live by what I ‘know’, not what I ‘feel’. 2 Timothy 1:12 ‘For I ‘KNOW’ whom I have believed and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed unto Him against that day’.

It’s very difficult for me to sing the song, ‘Because He lives I can face tomorrow. Because He lives all fear is gone.’ I would be lying if I said there were times that I am not fearful. Because there are times I am fearful.  I’m fearful of my mental illness and what it can do to me and my family, the fear of a total relapse of my illness, the fear of Lauren’s ever changing health, not knowing what tomorrow is going to bring forth. But I try not to let my thoughts go to tomorrow. I live one day at a time and this morning the thought came to me and it’s pertaining to this song, ‘Because He Lives.’ But for me , who lives with a broken mind, I can say with confidence, ‘Because He lives I can face today’. We are not promised tomorrow so I try not to go there but live today; one minute, one hour, one day at a time. This I know to be true!

I know there are so many out there who feel they can’t go on, life is too much, God wouldn’t have anything to do with me. Don’t believe that, God takes us just as we are, in our brokenness , our messed up minds, our addictions, our broken marriages, our hurts, our abuse, our fears; He takes us just as we are. When we feel we’re a nobody, a nothing, useless, ugly, unlovable human being; He loves us. We are never alone, even when we feel God is nowhere to be found (I know the feeling, I won’t lie), He is right there, standing somewhere in the shadows you’ll find Jesus. He’s the one who always cares and understands. When others have turned their backs on us and we feel all alone, He is there. “Never will I leave you, never will I forsake you”.

You may ask, ‘why do I bring God into the picture when it comes to my mental illness?’ Because I believe the first step to any level of recovery is, we have to admit to ourselves that we have an illness and that we are powerless over it. This is one battle that we cannot fight alone. That is why we need to turn to a Power greater then ourselves, to help us survive this hellish illness. Much like the second step in the AA Program for alcohol addiction. As with any other chronic or terminal illness, we need to turn to a spiritual power that is able to strengthen and walk us through our journey. It’s then we realize that we are not in control, in our own strength we could never make it. Let’s just put things into perspective; when we know we have no where else to turn and we are at a dead end; I believe we quickly realize who we have to turn to. And guess what? He’s there waiting; waiting for you! God is not he enemy, He’s the answer. No matter where you’ve been, no matter what you’ve done, God loves you!

In spite of my constant fight to survive this battlefield in my mind, I still live my best life with what I have and not dwell on what I don’t have. Hoping that today will be a better day and one day I will find peace again, peace of mind.

The Silent Killer

I wouldn’t say that Winter is my most favourite time of the year. The freezing cold, slippery streets and sidewalks, back breaking shovelling of the snow and the claustrophobic confinement inside your home because of a monstrous snowstorm. None of which make for the ideal situation for someone suffering from chronic depression and anxiety. I would call Winter, ‘One big trigger for mental illness.’ And then there’s the relentless hours of darkness, where daylight savings time is at it’s cruelest.  We require, as human beings, a certain amount of daylight each day in order to produce enough vitimin D, which  in turn increases our mood and helps combat anxiety and depression; that’s not always possible this time of the year.

But I’ve been doing fairly well and by fairly well, I don’t mean cured. But it’s been managable for the most part, with a lot of daily work; it certainly doesn’t  happen naturally. But at least I can function, to a certain degree. This functioning level recently was misinterpreted falsely by someone’s ignorance and boldness. When she stated in an email that I was more then capable of working and that I shouldn’t burden my family, friends and Community with the financial responsibility of Lauren’s needs. Our hearts were broken and torn that someone could be so cruel and insensitive.

In reality I have no obligation to explain the status of my health to the general public. Nor do I need public clearance for when I go back to work. I think this would be my doctor’s area of expertise and the public should keep their opinions and comments to themselves. It’s really sad that I feel the need to even justify my illness. I guess that’s why it’s sometimes referred to as the ‘hidden/silent killer.’ It’s an illness that you don’t always see on the outside. And when I go in public I’ve mastered how to act ‘normal’ despite an abnormal illness. The public will never see my worst days; it’s those days I hide; I isolate. But in the end , it lends significantly to the public’s misconceptions about the severity of my illness because just maybe what they are seeing and what the reality of my illness is, are two different things.

I’m telling this because it’s easy to judge a person’s well being on what you see; and you certainly cannot diagnose the severity of my illness or the wellness of my being by what you see. But when you see me, you aren’t seeing all of me. I write this because I want people to understand that when someone looks okay on the outside, certainly doesn’t mean that eveything is fine on the inside. Sometimes we are so quick to judge someone else and to dictate what we think is right for that person. But if we don’t walk in their shoes, we have no right to judge that person. So if we can’t say something nice about someone, it’s best to say nothing at all. And for a lot of people that is near impossibe to do. I have to live with this illness, every fighting day of my life; as does so many others who are fighting this battle called mental illness.

I believe (I know) we have been the topic of conversation around many supper tables. I have never experienced such cruelty, gossip and backbiting in all my life.  And the topic of conversation being our fundraising efforts in order to give our six years old little girl, who has cerebral palsy, and who’s needs far outway the needs of a ‘normal’ child. We were told we were a burden to others and society. It’s attacks like this that make it near impossible for us to live a normal life. Life is hard enough as it is while trying to raise a child with a disability, 24/7 365days a year and no government funding. But then to have to deal with such cruelty, added stress and humilitation is beyond humane.

But we will move forward, with courage, strength and hope; despite adversity, hatred and insensitivety. We are so grateful for those in our lives who support us with their love, compassion and encouragement. It’s those people that help us each day to put one foot in front of the other, without them we could not survive. I am sorry that I have to write such a disturbing blog but I feel exposure is the best and only remedy.

Defining Depression

How do you put on paper what your heart is yearning to say? Words are just that; words! But putting those words in a sentence that makes sense and expresses how you feel, well that’s not so easy to do. Words can only speak, but only the heart can truly feel what it is you truly want to express. I have tried so desperately to portray my thoughts and feelings in my Blog: www.harrislisa72.com entitled; ‘Life and Times of The Tuckers.’ With the caption attached; ‘Living with depression and anxiety. Raising a child with cerebral palsy. The ups and downs of life; the rain and the sunshine.’ I have written a total of 173 posts/blogs on this website and I feel I have only scratched the surface (written from January 2017-November 2019).

I won’t lie to you and tell you that life is wonderful and easy. When I’m having a very bad day, and I’m just referring here to my depression and anxiety, life is anything but wonderful and easy. Each moment of the day is a fight, a fight to just survive. Each day is a challenge, nothing comes easy anymore, not even the little things. I would just like to elaborate on some defining symptoms of this battlefield of the mind.

For me, when my pain is so intense, I feel like I don’t want to live anymore, that’s what depression can do to you, but yet I don’t want to die either. The constant pain and torment lessens your will to live. It would be so much easier to die and escape this living hell. But yet deep down, you really know that’s not what you really want. You just want to live, but really live without the constant struggle to survive. Life should be so much more then just surviving. I’ve often said to my doctor, ‘if this is living, then I am not living.’ Depression steals the joy, enthusiasm, your reason for living, your purpose; it steals ‘YOU’! And everyday you are constantly trying to find that ‘you’ that once you were. He’s in there somewhere but just can’t seem to escape the prison of the mind.

Depression can be defined as the overpowering need to isolate yourself from the rest of the world. There’s the inability to socialize, the wanting to just hide under a rock. That outgoing, social ‘icon’ that once I was is now turned into somewhat of a recluse. But that is the last thing I want, the last thing I need. When you suffer from depression you feel totally alone, you could be in a crowded room but feel like you are the only person there. Lonely is your constant companion. But we know we are created for companionship, we  crave affection and love. Living in isolation will only make our depression worse and that is why I need people around me, a form of support.

And then there’s the worse part of the day; the morning! A major defining symptom of depression is the fear of the day to come. How am I ever going to survive it? Constant fatigue and tiredness overwhelms my body and mind. I wonder how I can get out of bed, but then I say; ‘Okay God, it’s me and you, I can’t do this alone. So let’s do this! And the day begins. On the not so good days, I long for night to come. I know then, I have survived another day. Maybe sleep will provide an escape; a reprieve. And yet in spite of my depression and anxiety, I live my best life with what I have and try to make the best of everyday.

I can define/describe depression in so many other ways; living in a dark hole, loss of memory and concentration, having no desire to do the things you once loved to do. Depression has the power to redefine who you are (if you let it); It can consume your every thought and lessen you to a different person; to someone who as lost all confidence in oneself, convincing you that you are worthless and useless. No matter how hard I try, life becomes unbearable and overwhelming to a point where you don’t know how you can go on. But you know in reality, that is your illness talking; it distorts your thinking patterns.  The American Psychiatric Association defines major depressive disorder as ‘a common and serious MEDICAL illness that negatively affects how you feel, the way you think and how you act.’

We are presently experiencing the ‘Season to be Jolly.’ I love Christmas, a little too much sometimes; I don’t know when to stop decorating. I was warned to tone it down this year, but how do ‘I’ tone down Christmas? My idea of toning it down is someone else’s idea of being overdone, too funny! But that’s not what Christmas is all about, there’s more to it then just decorations. For a lot of people Christmas can be one of the most difficult times of the year. It’s that time of the year when we are expected to be happy, joyful and glad. But what if we suffer from depression and anxiety; Christmas can be an enormous trigger. It can trigger so many symptoms of depression; loneliness, sadness, hopelessness, fatigue, anxiousness; all for various reasons. I pray this Christmas that all who suffer from mental illness, will feel the peace that came to earth on that first Christmas morning. Isaiah 9:6 ‘For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given; and the government shall be upon His shoulder; and His name shall be called Wonderful, Counseller, The Mighty God, The Everlasting Father, THE PRINCE OF PEACE.’

What Others Can’t See

This isn’t the way it was suppose to be. This isn’t what I had anticipated my life to be today. This wasn’t the plan; so far from what I had thought. Never did I think my mental illness would be so controlling, so disabling, so crippling. I awake and wonder, ‘how am I going to do this again?’ My eyes just opened and I’m in panic mode already, exhausted and my day as not even begun. My inner voice calls out to God, ‘Okay God, let’s do this because if you don’t, I can’t.’ So I throw my feet over the bed and hope for the best. Hope that just maybe, this might be a good day, a better day.

This is exactly how someone who is struggling with chronic depression feels; it doesn’t go away. Even on a good day it’s still lurking in the shadows of your subconscious mind.

It’s a beautiful Fall Saturday morning. The leaves on the trees have just started to fade to the most vibrant, radiant colors that Fall brings. I think to myself; a beautiful day to harvest the small but abundant vegetable garden we had planted in early spring. A day to reap the benefits of our labor. Time to get my hands dirty with the soil of Mother Earth, rather then covered in paint from my time of splattering different mediums on an artist canvas. So today is going to be a good day, if good intentions, fight and drive have anything to do with it. But deep inside I know the difference; for this chronic depressed soul would have to endure that unending feeling of sadness, hopelessness, fear of surviving another day and the question, ‘Would I survive another?’ Fatigue was already scratching at my minds door; trying to get in.

I had to franticly remind myself of what I had planned to do today and nothing was going to stop me. So I had to push aside those thoughts and remind the kids and Lisa that it was harvest time. Time to get those potatoes and carrots especially, out of the ground. And so we start digging, everyone in awe of what we had accomplished and what was coming out of the ground would be our winter supply of vegetables; I don’t think so! It wouldn’t be long before we’d be headed to the nearest produce department of our local grocery store. But I guess it wasn’t  all about the quantity but the fun we had in the process. The kids just loved it and that made me happy, no matter what my brain was telling me. Our cameras (iPhones) clicked multiple pictures of our first family harvest; it was an hit! And we had the proof; the pictures we had captured. Looking at the pictures, you could not buy the more perfect ‘Fall Family Harvest.’

But does a picture always tell a thousand words? In this case, no! For hidden behind my farmer façade; deep down inside my mind, was an hurting, painful, struggling, faltering soul. Wanting nothing more then to be at peace, just to enjoy what I was doing in the moment. But no, it was still there; hidden behind the pictures, the camera could not see or capture the war within.

Just recently I read an article by Awareness Act, called; ’15 Habits of People With Concealed Depression.’ I thoroughly related to many of these habits and find myself practicing them even today. Although I blog and talk openly about my depression; I don’t go around with DEPRESSION written on my forehead for all to see. No, when I am in public I have mastered the art of concealing my depression. People may look at me and think, ‘Wow, what I wouldn’t give to have his life.’ Everything may look great on the outside but on the inside I could be dying. Fighting a war that never seems to end.

I would just like to elaborate on a few of these ‘habits’ that relate to ‘my’ depression. One of these would be; ‘people with concealed depression are often quite talented and very expressive.’ I’m quoting, ‘These people are able to bring something beautiful out of the darkness that consumes them.’ And every day that as been my goal, through my writing and painting; is to bring something beautiful out of all this suffering and darkness.

Secondly, ‘They tend to search for purpose.’ My life is filled with searching; there as to be a reason and a purpose for all this hidden depression that lies deep within, it cannot all be in vain. And I believe it as opened a door whereby I can be an advocate for mental illness. And because I have personally suffered with this horrible illness for all my life, I have gained knowledge, experience and a compassion that I would have never received had I not suffered from depression, anxiety and panic attacks myself. It is my belief that the only people that truly understand and ‘get it’, are those who have suffered this illness themselves.

Thirdly, in order to feel better or to try to have a ‘good’ day requires a lot of effort; it doesn’t just come naturally, unlike most people. Every day that I put my feet over the bed, to get up in the morning, requires effort and fight. But I do it!

People suffering from depression learn to fake moods. They will often come across as happy and ‘normal’ on the outside because they don’t want to bring others down. So we fake it!

And lastly I’d like to elaborate on the fact that we have trouble shutting off our brains, they are constantly in motion; much like an hamster on a spinning wheel, always moving but going no where. Sometimes I wish I had an on/off switch but that’s not the way it is. Learning to slow down my thoughts and to stay in the moment is one of the best practices I have found to find a little relief. And due to this constant turmoil; it leaves you with unending fatigue, mentally drained, irritable and a shortness of patience. Mental fatigue can some days just leave you lifeless.

Robin Williams, well known actor and comedian, was a man who suffered immensely with concealed depression. He was one of my favorite actors and never in a million years would I have thought that he suffered from depression. But the façade awarded him many awards in his industry and the picture he painted certainly wasn’t a one of darkness and depression.

So, a picture doesn’t always tell a thousand words. Many times what we cannot see is much greater then what we can see. So never judge a book by it’s cover; for hidden in the pages lie the many hurts, the pain and the sadness of depression. Sometimes what others can’t see, is what hurts the most. So if you are hurting today, and you are suffering alone and in silence; know this, you are not alone. If you have no one to talk to, I am here, I understand, I care, I love you! Feel free to private message me, I may not have the answers but I ‘get it’.

CLOSING MY BLOG

These past few weeks for me have been an overwhelming sea of depression, panic and anxiety. My illness as so desperately tried to destroy me, to a point of where I just wanted to give up and not fight anymore. Fatigue had drained every ounce of strength that I had left in me; that I couldn’t fight anymore, even if I wanted to. Curling up into a ball and staying there would be so much easier to do.

I had been so tired of ‘well meaning’ people who know nothing about me, nor my illness but who think they have all the answers to  mental illness. And I know they mean well but sometimes it’s best they say nothing at all. Actions speak louder then words. A simple hug would do more good then a textbook of advice. But sorry to say society is quicker to give their opinion (not always fact) rather then a compassionate heart. And before I go any further, let me make one thing clear, I am not looking for pity (that I don’t need) but I do deserve respect and understanding. Just as I respect others feelings, thoughts and beliefs. I don’t always have to agree, I just need to respect. And respect meaning; ‘due regard for the feelings, wishes, rights or traditions of others’.

I reached a point this week, when I felt, ‘why do I do this to myself?’ Why do I speak so openly about my illness and in so doing, put myself out there for ridicule, stigma, misunderstanding and isolation. People are not always kind; and say or imply things that really hurt. And when you have a mental illness you are already in a vulnerable state. I was ready to say, ‘I’ve had enough and I was going to close my blog/website down. But then I remember the real reason I do this, it’s not about those ‘well meaning’ people, it’s not all about me, but it’s about those who are suffering with mental illness and do so feeling all alone. And for some reason, mental illness as always been an illness of isolation and even in today’s society is still so plain to see. But if I give up now, that would be one less voice that mental illness has and I will not give up. Despite adversity, ridicule and ignorance I will keep talking about mental illness. If you are reading this and you are guilty of stigmatizing mental illness, then shame on you for not educating yourself to what it means to be mentally ill; tomorrow it could be you or someone you love. But if you are someone who is suffering from a mental illness and you feel you are alone, you are not; I am where you are.

There are so many who are suffering from mental illness all around the world; mental illness has no respect of persons, no one is exempt. Just this week a famous Olympic swimming champion revealed he lives with depression. He said, ‘If I can get one message out there, it’s that ‘it’s OK not to be OK’. When he says, ‘living with’ he is implying/stating that his condition is a chronic illness. Chronic meaning, ‘persisting for a long time or constantly recurring’. Unfortunately for many of us, our condition is a chronic one; no different then any other chronic physical illness. So yes, I have a chronic mental illness that I have suffered all my life, but I am living with it. That doesn’t make me any less of a person; it just means I have an illness. And it also doesn’t mean that all mental illnesses are chronic, but for me; mine is. And if I have to go to my grave still struggling with this illness, then I will. Not unlike the countless multitudes of persons with cancer have gone to their graves, fighting to the end.

So today I hope I have accomplished three things. One, that I have helped to destigmatize the disease. Secondly, that I have inspired and given you hope in that you are not alone. Thirdly, that by acknowledging our own disease, I have empowered you to face your own disease openly and in the face of stigma. Our only hope of mental illness ever being publicly accepted by society, is through awareness, education and speaking out. We all have a part to do. Chin Up! We can do this together! I’m here for you!  Closing my Blog? I think NOT!

A Life Of Fighting

‘Desperate times cause for desperate measures’, that’s what the quote says anyway. Here I am at Robin’s, sitting alone, sipping a coffee and writing; like I was getting paid for it. I’m expecting the roof to blow off the building any minute, the wind is blowing so hard. I’m here trying to put my thoughts together but nothing seems to work. If I’m getting paid per word for what I’m writing, then my pay won’t be much today.

I’ve just experienced two horrible weeks of depression and nothing I do helps. When you are feeling depressed; ‘to do’ are the last two words in your vocabulary. You really feel totally disabled, not that you don’t want ‘to do’ something, you can’t do it. It’s like your body goes in shut down mode and you find it next to impossible to function. Nothing brings you joy, you feel numb but mostly you feel angry and guilty because you feel this way. I know it’s not my fault, this illness has captured my mind and as held me prisoner for most of my life.

Major depression is not a once in a lifetime occurrence or at least it hasn’t been for me. I guess I can compare it to a roller coaster, with many ups and downs; with the downs a lot lower then the highs of the ups. The scariest part of the ride is, you have no choice in when your ride will end and you can get off. Yes, you will experience times when your depression goes into remission as it were. You know it’s still there, but you can live life with a little more  ease. Those are the times when you have to enjoy life to it’s fullest because you don’t know how long this reprieve will last. And  then that disabling, crippling, ugly beast of depression returns in all it’s fury; that’s where I’ve been for the past few weeks. I call it a veil of sadness.

What happens to me during this period of time? I change! I find it difficult to laugh, but yet normally, I love to laugh. I love to make other people laugh; so much so that I started a YouTube channel called, ‘Walter on da line’ and it’s all about laughing. But when I’m in this pit of despair I cannot even play the part but yet I miss it so much. I’m hoping this cloud will soon lift and I can get back to playing my character, ‘Walter’, once again. Then, I didn’t go to church on Sunday, and I rarely miss. But I just could not go, I couldn’t be around large crowds, just too overwhelming. The darkness was starting to close in, the dark night of depression was creeping in. When this happens I find it really hard to see the sunshine, even when the sun is shining. I love bright sunny days but when depression strikes, the darkness hides the sunshine. I want to just run and hide. I ignore the phone, not that  I don’t want to talk to the other person but I just can’t. I just want to sleep and isolate; but I know if I do, depression will take over. So now I am becoming very frightened, scared and panic is setting in, I’m terrified that I’m relapsing, that I’m returning to that place I call hell. I can’t go there again, ever! I know now I have to see my doctor. I make my appointment.

The night before my doctor’s appointment, I sat down and tried to the best of my ability, to write what I thought he needed to hear, in order to help me.

Once inside his office, I sat and pulled out my letter of ‘confession’ and nervously let him hear what I was feeling. ‘My doctor appointment note’:

‘Lying in my restless bed last night, I turned over at least a thousand times. My appointment with my doctor this morning was enough to give anyone nightmares. I felt my life was on the line but how would I make him see that. And if he did, what good would it do, if any? Had my diagnosis been written in stone and this was my lot in life? Six months had gone by since my last appointment and here I was again, waiting impatiently in the waiting room.

What as happened in those six months that he would need to know and that I would need to tell him, in order for him to understand where I am today, in my somewhat mental health. I guess those pass six months have proven, I’m not suicidal because if I were, I would not be sitting in this chair today and he would have lost one of his many patients.

But how have I improved or declined since my last visit? Mental health isn’t as black or white as other physical illnesses and therefore much harder to explain and pinpoint. For me each day and everyday is a fight and a struggle to survive this war within. Some days very intense, others maybe not so intense, but a struggle none the less. It’s a fight to function, to move, to feel happiness, to perform. Some days I do fairly well, others not so well.

The last few weeks I have found myself spiraling downward into a deep hole of despair. Wanting to sleep more, to escape the pain. Longing just to feel okay. Not being afraid to face the day, just to know I can do this. But lots of my days I loose my fight, I run out of ammunition, there’s nothing left to fight with. I’m exhausted, tired, frustrated and lots of times hopelessness creeps in and tries to steal that little bit of ‘being’ that I have left. But I won’t let go, I hold on tight.

My pain becomes real through my tears. I have moments when I have to let them escape and let some of the pain go. Sometimes I think I feel healing in my tears. Some people may call that weakness but I call that strength. Keeping it all inside is weakness; not wanting or knowing what to do with the pain. Finding ways to cope, to heal, to be okay; is strength! On most days, that’s how I have functioned.

But the scary days come when you feel you are loosing control, when you are loosing your battle and you have no strength to fight back. That’s the scary days and that’s where I am today.’

I believe he heard me, he was listening. But I also believe that he knows that this is really what my life is, was and always will be. I will have good days and bad days, but I have to accept that that’s the way this illness works, much like any other illness, you have it and you just have to learn to live with it. Right now I feel really low but I have to believe that I will bounce back again. That the light will shine again, that the spark will come back into my eyes, my energy and drive will increase and life will be restored to my being.

I know what I have written is very personal and some would call private. But if I am going to be honest and expose this horrible disease for what it is, then I have to tell it like it is and hide nothing. Good days and bad days. If I have to sacrifice my own privacy to help others to see and feel this misunderstood, stigmatized and cruel disease, then I will do so.

Living In A Well Of Sadness

Depression is known to affect 1 in 4 Canadians; an alarming statistic. And when you are the 1 included in that statistic doesn’t make you feel all that great. The other 3 in that statistic should feel fortunate and grateful that they are not included. It is not a place you would want to be. Living with clinical depression is like living in a well of sadness, a chronic feeling of bereavement that really never leaves you, there are days that are worse then others. No different really then someone living with a chronic physical pain; a constant yearning to just be free of the pain, just to experience that pain free moment when you could feel ‘normal’.

It’s unfortunate that we don’t get to decide if today is going to be okay or not. The constant battle to fight this unending war can sometimes find you irritated, exhausted and hopeless. Hopeless in the sense that you are not winning this war; no matter how hard you fight.

We are now living in that time of the year, what I call the ‘Season of Depression’. No, let me rephrase that and expose the ugly truth, ‘the Season of Suicide’. Why would I say something so alarming, it’s because it’s the truth. We are living in a Society where suicide as almost become a norm. So normal, that people rarely flinch anymore. Every week we can read headlines of some well known, high profile person (sad that its only those who make the headlines) end their life by suicide. Just today, January 19,2019, the headlines read, ‘..U.S figure skating champ, dead at 33’. His sister says, ‘ My wonderful, strong, amazing compassionate brother took his own life earlier today’. Just last week, my friend’s son took his own life. So very sad and no reasonable answers.

But for those family members left behind, may I say, ‘there’s no one to blame, no one to get angry at, there was nothing you missed or didn’t do’. This was a means to end the never ending torment and pain of the mind, a place to find peace, everlasting peace and to release everyone involved of the constant turmoil that this illness inflicts on all concerned.

Why am I speaking out about suicide? Why should I care?  What has suicide got to do with me? I want to talk about suicide because it is an illness, something goes terribly wrong in your thinking process where the only reasonable answer to your pain and the pain you have inflicted on your family, is to end your life. They do it for you and to find peace for themselves, to end the war that is raging from within.

We as a Society have the responsibility to end the stigma of mental illness and suicide. Let’s stop talking about it behind closed doors and let’s make it a public health concern. It’s then maybe something will be done about it. We have to stop using the word; ‘commit suicide’. Someone commits murder, someone commits rape; suicide is NOT a criminal concern. We have to change the way we look at suicide and realize that 90% of people who die by suicide have a diagnosable and treatable mental illness at their time of death. We have to make this information and treatment available to everyone. I believe our Province of NL is far behind in this area and need to be held responsible and  accountable for why there is not more done. Especially when it comes to availability of in-hospital treatment and modern facilities and therapies. We need to give those who are suffering the option that there is hope.

I need to speak out about suicide because I have seen into the minds and thoughts of someone who is struggling to stay alive. I will not lie, I will tell you like it is; depression as driven me many times in my life to a place where I just did not want to live. The value of my life was brought down to worthless. I was drowning in a well of sadness. But I sought professional and spiritual help and to this day I am still here. A life that is very fragile, uncertain and unpredictable. Not unlike any other chronic illness, we have to take it one day at a time and live a life that is very cautious. And by that I mean; knowing my limits, being aware of my triggers, knowing when to say no and paying attention to my body and mind.

I know this is not a pleasant read, nor is living with a mental illness. By exposing myself in a transparent way is sometimes the only way for my readers to get a better understanding of this illness and also to help others who are living in this well of sadness. I won’t pretend that this is an easy road that I’ve travelled but by sharing doesn’t mean I’m weak but quite the contrary, it shows my strength. And you have that same strength within you, don’t give up, hope is just around the corner.

After Thought: I realize that my writings will never win me any popularity contest, no Academy Award, no Nobel Prize, quite the contrary. People will probably stigmatize me, disrespect me, judge me and condemn me. But my purpose in writing is to educate, tell it like it is, no more swiping it under the rug, speak the truth; holding nothing back. To help others and be a voice for those who suffer in silence. If my transparency can help just one person, provide a new way of looking at mental illness and break down the walls of stigma. Then I have succeeded in accomplishing what I sat out to do.

 

Mental Illness; So What?

Mental illness has been one of the most misunderstood, stigmatized and misdiagnosed illnesses of all time. To be honest it’s only in more recent years to be even considered an illness. Speaking from experience, I believe I’ve become a little bit of an ‘expert’ in the field. Not because I’m a trained therapist, I’m not, but I believe there are some things you cannot learn from a book. Don’t get me wrong, I have great respect for those working in the mental health field. But living with a mental illness all my life has given me knowledge, understanding and insight that I would have never  received if I  had not suffered from this horrific illness myself. Mine being Major (Clinical) Depression and Anxiety.

I have paid an enormous price for this insight into mental illness. It as cost me greatly, I have lost so much because of my illness and brought much pain and worry to both my families. And also it’s affected so much of my social life, especially that being the lost of many friends and close acquaintances.

When I’m experiencing a ‘not so good day’, I just need to be alone but yet it’s the last thing I want. Being alone is the last thing someone should be when not feeling well. A sure symptom of depression is isolating, where socializing and being around people is hard to do. You can feel all alone in the most crowded room. Or to the opposite extreme where being around people can make you feel so overwhelmed and anxiety provoking. You feel guilty because you are feeling sad and you don’t want to bring others down. And there are days when you just can’t hide how you are really feeling, for the sake of others. You have to be honest and admit, I’m not having a good day.

I cannot remember the last time I could say, ‘I had a good day’. I sat in my doctor’s office, with tears trickling down my face and I looked into his eyes and said, ‘If this is living, I’m not living’. I have an amazing, compassionate, caring doctor but he doesn’t have the answers; there is only so much that he can do. It is my belief that what can be done both medically and therapeutically for me, is done. The brain is the most complex organ in the body and the least is known about it. Therefore it is least treatable.

Am I discouraged? Yes, I have days when I think, what’s the point? And feel like flushing my meds down the toilet. I’m not winning this war. But then I think of where I was six years ago, to where I am today; I’ve come a long way. I have to believe that achieving and maintaining a healthy mind is not a single battle, but an on going war. And God knows I have fought my battles, I’m still in the war. But I cannot throw down my armour and wave my white flag in surrender and let depression win, I just can’t. Even when I feel like all options are gone, I still have the promise of God; to never leave me or forsake me.

I feel like I’m walking on water, but I’m sinking… I’m going down. But I’ve taken my medication religiously, I’ve done everything right to my knowledge but yet that heavy gnawing inside me; a sad, aching feeling that something isn’t right inside my head. The darkness is desperately trying to swallow me. Depression may be in my mind, but it’s not in my imagination, this is real. You know that something is wrong and you are grasping for help.

When you’re in the darkness of depression, you need a reason to hope. But lately I’m having days when hope is nearly gone. Even if you’re trying medications (and I’ve tried what seems like hundreds) that didn’t work, at least I still felt I was doing something, even if that something is figuring out what won’t work. But if we do nothing at all, then we are hopeless. So to keep hope alive, I fight with every ounce of strength I have within me and pray that my strength doesn’t fail. A very scary place to be.

I know that because this illness is so stigmatized and misunderstood, that many minimize it’s seriousness and existence. I can sit here for hours and talk of my experience but the best way I feel you may get a better understanding of this illness and what it can do, is for me to give you some statistics to prove my point.

300 million people around the world have depression, according to the World Health Organization.

Depression is the leading cause of disability in the workplace.

1 in 5 people in Canada will experience a mental illness (Canadian Mental Health Association).

The Centre for Suicide Prevention states: “The number of people who die by suicide each year in Canada equates to a jumbo jet 747 crashing and killing everyone on board….. every single month of the year. If as many people died in plane crashes as they do by suicide, there would be a pubic uproar. Instead, SUICIDE is swept under the carpet and not talked about”.

The latest research shows there were 3,926 suicides in Canada in 2016.

Canada loses close to 200 children and youth to suicide every year.

Today in Canada 10 people will end their lives by suicide; up to 200 others will attempt so.

Suicide is currently ranked as the 9th leading cause of death in Canada.

Majority of suicides are due to some form mental illness.

The statistics speak for themselves, ‘this illness is real’. And not talking about it will not make it go away but will only intensify it’s effect on mankind. I believe that with time, these statistics will keep growing and we are headed for an epidemic that will be out of control. I pray that I am wrong but time will tell. Watch the Clock!

 

Hanging By A Thread

I feel like I lost my ability to write; I just stare at my paper and nothing happens. Not that there’s nothing to write about, maybe just that there’s too much going through this head of mine and I don’t know how to express it anymore. Almost like, what’s the point? Who’s listening? Who cares? The last few days have been tough, and I mean tough, unexplainable tough.

When you struggle/suffer from a mental illness, it just doesn’t go away when you will it to or want it to. When you awake in the morning, you don’t choose how you are going to feel today, you just hope that it’s going to be a good one. Well, the last couple of days have not been good ones, you feel like you’re hanging by a thread and if you let go you are going to fall into this dark hole, a bottomless pit and you just keep falling.

The symptoms of depression and anxiety are so crippling and disabling. Everything I do I have to push myself, the everyday tasks are never simple or enjoyable. The overwhelming fear and inability makes them nearly impossible to do. You want to hide, to isolate; just escape. But you can do neither, life happens, life still goes on and I have to move along with it, in spite of it all. Whether I feel like it or not; it as to be done and I do it. I guess I’m stronger then I think I am because when I’m at a low, I have no idea how I can move on. But I do!

I’m tired of performing, exhausted from the fight, laden with the burdens, the load is just too heavy to carry. What are my options? Give up? Keep fighting? In my human strength, I would have given up a long time ago. But that still small voice keeps reminding me, ‘I got this, just leave it up to me’. And I try with every ounce of strength that I have left in me, and at times that’s pretty limited, to put my trust in the God, who when I’m feeling low, seems so far away. But I know He’s there, He’s got to be, there are no other answers; only He can provide what I need. So when I’m hanging by a thread, it’s the hem of His garment.

My Will To Live

Imagine a disease that destroys your will to live. You could say there are many diseases that can do that, especially chronic disease and during the late stages of a disease such as cancer, aids, lugarettes disease, etc. Many at this late stage of their disease have no quality of life, constant pain and torment, agony and no possibility of ever recovering; do get to the point of just wanting to die.

But I want to talk about something a little different, a disease which once you get it, you start loosing your will to live. In fact one of the symptoms of the disease is , loosing your will to live. As devastating as all other diseases are, neither have loosing your will to live, has a symptom. But the disease I am referring to is clinical depression; the inability to want to live or the will to live is one of the main symptoms of this disease.

Clinical depression is the more- severe form of depression, also known as major depression or major depressive disorder. It isn’t the same as depression caused by a loss, such as the death of a loved one, or a medical condition, such as a thyroid disorder. It’s a change that takes place within the brain, having to do with certain mood- regulating chemicals called neurotransmitters that do not work properly. Environmental factors may trigger clinical depression but are not the cause.

Loosing the will to live is not a normal human reaction; we were born to live, it’s our natural instinct to survive. But to loose that will has to be an illness, a sickness, an abnormal reaction to a brain that is broken. And I know this because I live this! There are days when my will to live is questionable. That doesn’t mean I’m suicidal but my illness is so overwhelming at times that my will to live is diminishing. I am so tired and frustrated that I sometimes loose that will to live.

You may say, ‘ but you have so much to live for and you could list them off. But I don’t hear you and my illness as somewhat distorted my thinking and my mind as already decided what I believe. But  I cannot give up there, if I did I would die. I have to realize that this is my illness talking; not me. I know I have so much to live for and eventually this torment will pass. I just have to hang in there and fight for my will to live.

This was one blog I did not want to publish. It is a topic that is so private and personal but by not sharing it would serve no purpose. But if I did tell it like it is, then I would help someone who as lost their will to live and maybe show them that we can regain that will to live with time and endurance. Never give up. God loves you and so do I. This illness may have stolen so much from us and at times made our lives unbearable, we will survive! I have to believe that by faith because in my human strength I see no way. And some days, that’s what I’m doing; surviving! But I want to do so much more then survive, I want to LIVE!