Tag: Depression

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A Good Day

I was swiftly spiralling down a dark hole of despair. Loosing control as I was going down, down, down. Every indication that I was relapsing was steering me in the face. My sleeping pattern was interrupted, my appetite for food was dwindling, my emotions were crying out to me to help them stop. But I could not control them, the dam had broken and I was drowning. But worst of all, panic attacks had returned and was taking over my life. My greatest fear had come true; I was relapsing!

But was I willing and was I going to let this happen again? I fought this before and I will fight this war again. I was determined to stop this illness from escalating into a full blown breakdown. In the back of my mind I knew my options had pretty much ran out. Over the years I had tried everything to escape this living hell. But yet every day for the past eight years (not including a lifetime) I could not honestly say I had a ‘good’ day. I am not referring to my physical life but my life from within my mind. My mind was broken and I was trying desperately to fix it. I just wanted this hell to go away. But to even reach a functioning level, required hard, hard work. And today I have reached that level but staying there requires so much strength, courage and determination.

And there are so many every day triggers that would throw me into the grasps of my depression, anxiety and panic attacks. How was I going to defeat this monster? I have to use my past experiences to find my way out. And I knew the best place to start was my amazing family doctor. I wasted no time to get an appointment and before I knew it, I was sitting face to face with the man I knew could help me. I described to him the horrors of my panic attacks, how they awakened me from my already restless sleep. How I was afraid to be in a public place because a panic attack could strike without warning and wasn’t  just confined to my home life but could occur anywhere. And because of this, I was a prisoner, under house arrest.

I explained how I wasn’t living, just surviving and this was fair to no one. I was determined, this as to stop and I would do anything to make it stop. And being the compassionate doctor he is, he was determined to help me. His first plan of attack was to get my panic attacks under control. And this would require another drug, called buspirone. I have to admit, I wasn’t all that optimistic, given my track record. But I was willing to try and I did. To my amazement, six days later from taking this new drug, I have not had another panic attack since. I am being highly cautious and afraid to get my hopes up because of past drug failures but I have to believe that this one is working and will remain working.

I visited my scheduled psychologist appointment yesterday. And as I sat in his home based office, he politely asked how I was doing today? And I replied with, ‘I’m having a good day’. It seems like forever since I said those words, I really surprised myself when I said them. When you have a chronic illness, it’s not every day you can say, you’re having a good day. So now I’m just hoping to have more ‘good’ days, then bad days.

All of us I’m sure have good days and bad days. One thing we can be assured of and that is, it won’t rain always. And if we could just remember that on the bad days then we can make it through. I’m reminded of the song which says;

“Someone said that in each life some rain is bound to fall. And each one sheds his share of tears, And trouble troubles us all. But the hurt can’t hurt forever and the tears are sure to dry.

And it won’t rain always, the clouds will soon be gone. The sun that they’ve been hiding has been there all along. And it won’t rain always, God’s promises are true. The sun’s gonna shine in His own good time, and He will see you (and He will see me) through.”

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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!

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The Seasons Come And Go

Winter as finally passed and Spring is so desperately trying to unfold. With Spring comes that feeling of new life, new beginnings, fresh hope and a warmth that inspires the soul. The cold, chilly winter season as reluctantly become another memory in time. Much as happened; good and bad. But yet we have survived another season; another season of life.

I can’t honestly say that the past several months hasn’t come without it’s tough times. It’s been rough on all of us, to say our life is simple, would be an understatement. Living with mental illness and cerebral palsy would be enough to send any family’s life into a whirlwind. And lots of days that’s what it feels like; you are living in a whirlwind. Where life is spinning out of control and you’re fighting to hold the pieces together. Some days you may feel like you’re winning and other days like you are loosing the fight.

With my mental illness, I must say it’s still an everyday struggle but most days now, I feel it’s a struggle that I am winning. I guess it’s like someone who has diabetes, they still have it but they have it under control. And for me with my depression and anxiety, I feel on most days I have it under control.  But each day still requires a lot of self talk, keeping my thoughts from becoming distorted and unrealistic, trying to keep life as ‘normal’ as possible and live in the moment. Is this easy to do? No, not at all but if I am going to beat this living hell, then this is what I have to do on a daily bases, if I am going to survive; I can never let my guard down. And maybe with this new season of Spring may come new life, new hope and new beginnings for all of us.

Lauren has certainly had her share of pain, hurt and uncertainties. The cold winter months have found her spending most of it in bed, recovering from two major hip surgeries, that can only be described as horrific. No child should have to suffer what this child as endured and will still have to endure in the months to come. Her first hip surgery was performed in May 2018, the second was done September 2018. It’s now April 2019 and it’s only now that I can say that she is bouncing back from her ordeals. She as missed majority of her school year in kindergarten. We are now in the process of gradually introducing her back into the school setting, which as to be done slowly, cautiously and at her own pace, due to her high levels of anxiety. But she is doing fairly well and her school as been so accommodating during this transition period and for that we are so thankful.

Life for us as parents of a disabled child will never be the same again. And I don’t say that in a selfish way but in a realistic way. I know that the only parents that will truly understand what I mean; are parents that are privileged to have a disabled child. Lauren may be six years of age but right now we still have a six year old baby. We do the exact same things for her now as when she was a baby. Except now it’s harder because she as grown to be a big girl, who requires constant lifting. And the 24/7 care doesn’t end and doesn’t get any easier.

I believe that life for all of us at this season of Lauren’s life is a little tougher. Lauren is so aware, so intelligent and so full of questions; questions that we don’t always know how to answer. For instance, yesterday we were going outside and out of nowhere she asked, “Daddy why do I have to be in a wheelchair?” I’m sorry but I wish that no child would ever have to ask that question. She’s realizing now, more then ever, especially since she’s gone back to school; that not all kid’s are in wheelchairs. So she’s wondering and asking, why am I in a wheelchair? It was only recently she asked Lisa, “Mommy, when you were a little girl, were you in a wheelchair?” How can we live without having a broken heart? There will always be moments like these when our hearts are torn from our bodies. And just one more heart wrenching moment, when she asked me while we were just lying in her bed, “Daddy did you see me when I done a cartwheel?” And I lied and said, “Yes my angel and that was the best cartwheel I have ever seen in my life”.

Nature may have four distinct seasons; Fall, Winter, Spring and Summer. All of which will come and go at it’s own designated times. Much like the seasons of life. Right now I am at a different season in my mental health then I was last year at this time. And right now Lauren is at a different season of her cerebral palsy and we have discovered that those seasons are forever evolving and changing. We just have to learn to adjust to each individual season and to learn to find warmth in the coldness, sunshine in the rain, new life amidst the dying dreams. Healing and hope when the season as gone.

 

 

 

 

 

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Triggers

My pen sets silently in my hands. It doesn’t want to move, much like my whole body. Depression as washed over me like an ocean wave. The last few months have been a very disturbing time for me, there has been many triggers that have aggravated my illness. Triggers are unpleasant and disturbing experiences that occur in your life that bring on an episode of intense depression and anxiety (in my case). And when this happens, you have to fight for your life again.

Right now this episode as left me with so many unwanted, irritable symptoms. I find it very difficult to socialize, I isolate as much as possible; my interaction with others are forced. I know I can’t  isolate, it just isn’t good for my mental health, but yet it’s all I want to do. I just don’t have the drive, the energy or enthusiasm  that is required to be in public. My triggers have knocked me down big time, but I know I have to get up, but how do you get up when you feel you have so little strength left; fatigue is a big problem. You barely have enough strength to crawl.

I have learned over the years what I have to do to survive but when intense depression strikes, your survival guide seems so unattainable. You push and push and push until you feel you can push no more. But push I must, or if not I will be in deeper trouble; and I am not going there again. To that dark tunnel that has no light at the end.

When you are feeling this way, you search for that something that can bring you that glimmer of hope. But when you are enduring such intense depression; your thoughts are so distorted that you cannot see the light, the smallest task seems so impossible to do. It’s at this point you have to give it all you got and find some good, somewhere. It’s there, just so much harder to see when you are in a cloud of fog.

Some things that I’m using to bring me through this valley of despair at the moment are; looking forward to Logan coming home from school, hearing Lauren saying ‘Good morning Daddy’. It’s in the little things lots of times, the smell of supper cooking, the sun shining, looking outside and realizing that spring is here. All does my heart good.

It’s great that I do enjoy various hobbies and when I’m not feeling well I try to distract myself by engaging in them. Right now I started painting again, it’s great therapy and certainly a great distraction. Painting is a great way to express your feelings and emotions. For example, I can paint pictures that portray calmness, peacefulness, beauty and solitude. All of which help to reflect positive thoughts. I also love playing the part of ‘Walter on da line’, but that is very difficult to do when you are not feeling well. When I do feel well enough, I find it is such  great therapy and laughter is great medicine.

Writing about mental illness certainly brings no glory to myself. In reality, I really would like to hide under a rock and never come out, so the world would never see my illness. But I believe in order to help others that are suffering with mental illness, we have to talk about it. And in doing so, we help others realize they are not alone, we educate each other, and we help break down the walls of stigma that still exist today.

 

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Let’s Talk Suicide

I just finished reading another heart wrenching story written by a Mom about her daughter who had died by suicide. Her Mom goes on to say (speaking of her daughter)  that in March 2017 she lost her battle with depression and died from suicide.

The stigma that society as placed on suicide is ridiculous. So much so that it steals from the grieving family the opportunity to grieve without prejudice, guilt or shame. And the deceased is looked upon in an undignified, judgemental and condescending manner. It’s sad, that even today we still use language like ‘committed suicide’ or ‘taking your own life’, as if it is an intentional, deliberate and rational process. If someone loses a 10 years battle with cancer, we talk about their bravery, their strength and how they were an inspiration to all around them. And they were certainly all of those things, I am not denying that. But people (myself included) with depression are fighting a constant battle as well. Some people lose their battle with depression and other mental illness through suicide. But the way in which Society views this person is the complete opposite of the way they would view someone with cancer or some other physical disease. They are looked upon as selfish, weak and highly stigmatized. It’s time for this ignorant way of thinking to end!

Someone suffering from a mental illness should be treated with the same dignity, pride, love, compassion and remembered as brave fighters, regardless of the circumstances of their death. Maybe you have not been introduced to the ‘death of shame’, but maybe if it hit close to home, to someone you loved, you would soon start to see suicide in a new light. I hope you never have to experience such  an horrific death but there are no exemptions. So the next time you are quick to pass judgement, may you think before you speak.  Someone who has fought a mental illness for too long and within their broken mind the only way they see to ‘fix it’ is through suicide. Relieving themselves and their families of this horrible burden of sorrow, shame and ugliness.

This blog is not based on my spiritual beliefs and I wish not to get into a religious debate. But is based on the right to die and be treated with dignity, no matter the cause. We were always taught to respect the dead. It’s about being treated humanely with no disrespect for anyone involved. But may we leave the ‘God Stuff”, up to God, it’s certainly not our place to judge; God has the last word! But may it be our responsibility to, love, to be compassionate and a shoulder to cry on. I want to be that person that is there for the hurting, the misjudged and for those suffering from a loss of a loved one by suicide. Or if you are that person that is contemplating suicide or just wishing you could die to end this unbearable pain, then I’m here for you too. I have been and still have those days just like that, so you are not alone; I’ve been there too.

I know I have nothing to be ashamed of because I have a mental illness. Yes, my brain is broken and tells me I’m a loser, I’m weak, I’m a good for nothing, etc. No different then if I was suffering from anorexia and my brain was telling me; I’m fat and ugly. None of which are true but when you have a ‘sick’ brain you cannot always control the way you think.

And that is why more needs to be done to find more effective ways to treat the brain and  then suicide wouldn’t need to be an option and hopelessness would be turned to hope and hope to life. But right now I believe our Mental Health System is failing us, one suicide at a time; at an alarming and frightening rate. Someone open your eyes! We are in the midst of a suicidal epidemic and very little is done. ‘Let’s Talk’ is great but ‘Let’s Do’!

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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.

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My Greatest Fear

Just to show you how unpredictable that Major Depression can be; it was only last week I wrote a blog that would  ‘almost’ give you the impression that my depression and anxiety was pretty much under control. But the last few days the haunting, ugliness of this illness have overpowered my will to survive.

I have experienced a constant feeling of ‘grief’ as it were. Not wanting to talk to anyone, and that had nothing to do with them, but all to do with me; I didn’t want to talk, afraid I would express how I was truly feeling. Therefore I would rather not talk at all, so I didn’t. I isolated and slept every chance I could get, to escape the uncontrollable symptoms that were starting to flood my mind with fear. Fear that I was sinking, fear that I was loosing control of myself, fear of just wanting this constant torment to end.

So tired of this ever recurring nightmare called depression. When will this ever end? Ever? The little task that come so natural and easy for everyone else to do, are so difficult for me. Just making my bed requires self-talk, unloading the dishwasher; so simple but yet so hard. And yet here I am struggling with the littlest tasks but yet facing the greatest challenges of my life. Challenges that I won’t get into but are not just the everyday challenges that everyone has to face on a day to day bases. Much bigger then that and those I try to entrust to my Heavenly Father, who is much bigger and stronger then anything I could do. And live in hope that He’s going to take care of things for me, when I can’t do it myself.

I think when I start having ‘not so good’ days, I become a little anxious or fearful that I’m going to relapse or spiral into a not so nice place; an ugly place where I don’t want to visit anymore. I read a book recently, that was written by an American author, who suffers from bipolar disorder but was doing well with various treatments and medication. And she felt that if she did relapse, she wasn’t overly fearful because there was ‘so much help out there’. Ironic, because my greatest fear of a relapse is knowing the lack of help that is out there. I have used every form of therapy and medication that is available in NL. My trust and faith in ‘OUR’  Mental Health Care System in NL is at a minimal. I cannot say, ‘there is so much help out there’, because I honestly don’t feel that way.

There are new treatments and medications that are available out of Province but are not available here in NL. If these were available to me, I would most certainly participate in availing of these. One promising medication for depression is ketamine. Increasingly, this dissociative anethetic is being examined as a potential treatment in depression cases where other drugs have failed. Sounds hopeful and promising to me, especially since I was diagnosed as treatment resistant. Researchers have called it the most exciting breakthrough in the field of depression research in the past half-century. Some other non-medication therapies (I won’t elaborate on each one but they are treatments that are available outside the Province) transcranial direct current stimulation, repetitive transcranial magnetic stimulation, vagus nerve stimulation and deep brain stimulation. But none of these are available to me. And when you feel so hopeless and exhausted from fighting; you would try anything to make the pain go away. Any improvement would be better then none at all. If I lived in an area where these treatments were offered, I’m sure I would avail of them. At least they would give you some hope, some relief because living in NL, I cannot say like the American author that ‘there is so much help out there’. If it’s here, I can’t find it!

So where does that leave me? I have to work with what I have, with what’s available and hope for the best. The best being that I will never relapse to the acute stage of my illness ever again. But there are some days that are so bad, I fear that I could be headed that way. And the best I can do is hope and pray that God will look down on me and in His mercy and grace, He won’t let that happen again. So basically, I pray, trust His promises and fight with all I have, to not let it happen. Sometimes I wonder, do I have to wait until this life is over to escape my pain and suffering. I hope not. I was reminded  of this verse in Revelations 21:4 “And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, no crying, neither shall there be any more pain; for the former things are passed away”.

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His Love Has No Limit

I believe it’s when I’m in the most pain, that God uses me the most. My pain triggers my brain to unleash what’s imprisoned in my mind. Some thoughts are impossible to describe by my pen, they have to be lived and felt in order to fully comprehend the pain they bring to one’s life. I am not referring here to the feeling of down-in-the-dumps kind of pain.

When major/clinical depression hits, and it can hit at any moment, without warning; one’s ‘self’ can disappear into the depression, you loose who you really are. Your personality is dissolved with your tears, your soul is destroyed by it’s flames, your being is no more. You exist, nothing more then a robot, you go through the motions. But you search and long for that ‘you’, the one that you once knew. The one that you felt love towards, now you hate what you have become. Not that I have become a monster but quite the opposite. There are times when it seems as though someone came into my space and turned the lights off; I was in complete darkness. That was the acute stage of this illness.

Today I still have this illness and struggle with it everyday. Not unlike someone with any other incurable illness have to struggle with theirs on a day to day bases. I still have days when I find it hard to even do the small tasks that need to be done, but I do them. I now know my limits and only do what I can with what I have. There are still days when sadness overflows me like a flood. And days when my strength and drive is at it’s lowest.

But having said all of that, I believe, and no I’m not getting all religious on you and no it’s not my illness or my medication talking, I am totally of a sound and sane mind. But I am going to tell you that the only way I have survived this illness thus far is through the constant presence of my Heavenly Father. On days when I am not doing so well, I hold onto His hand a little tighter. And when I was at the acute stage of my illness, when I could not hold on; then it was those days that He literally carried me. There is no other explanation. Nothing! The medical field can only do so much and then no more.

But then the Great Physician steps in. And that’s why I’m still here today, to tell you there is hope in Jesus. He is not my last resort but my only hope! And He can be yours too. No matter what you are struggling with today, no matter what your addiction is, no matter your illness, no matter your pain. It doesn’t matter how hopeless you feel, how far down you may be. Jesus can and will raise you up again! There is only one answer, when you feel you have exhausted all resources, He is ‘still’ there.

I want to leave with you a portion of a song that sums up this blog and reinforces what I’m trying to say:

His love has no limit, His grace has no measure, His pow’r has no boundary known onto men; For out of His infinite riches in Jesus, He giveth, and giveth, and giveth again.                                                           When we have exhausted our store of endurance, When our strength has failed ere the day is half done; When we reach the end of our hoarded resources, Our Father’s full giving is only begun.

I pray today that this blog as reached the ears of the hurting, to the heart that is broken, to the soul that is helpless; may you find peace and healing in the one that loves you unconditionally. He loves you just as you are, no matter what. And if He’s not your Saviour today, it’s not too late. He loves you just as you are; broken, tired, hopeless and lost. Ephesians 2:8 “For by grace are you saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God”.

 

 

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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.

 

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A Year In Review

The year 2018 was anything but celebratory. Every day that I opened my eyes; I had to force myself to move. Everyday I fought a war from within, a war that no one else saw, a battle from within. Happiness didn’t find me naturally, I had to fight to just be okay. This thing called depression as left me angry, ashamed, guilty and exhausted. One thing I will be and that is real, it is what it is; ugly!

I cannot paint a beautiful picture for you of my life being easy, relaxed and carefree; that would not be the truth. There were no truer words spoken then when the Apostle John said, ‘In this world you will have trouble'(John 16:33). And we as a family has had more then our share. There were times when we wondered if we would ever survive it and we are certainly not out of danger yet. I have to believe in the promises of God, even on the days when I don’t feel God at all.

There were many days in 2018 that I did not feel the presence of God. But I have learned from my experiences that I cannot live by the way I feel but I have to live by what I know. And I know that God promised to walk with me, to uphold me. In Isaiah 41:10 He tells me, ‘So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand’.

Then there’s the chorus we sing, ‘Because He lives, I can face tomorrow…all fear is gone’. There were and are days I could not sing this song truthfully. There were days when fear gripped my very being and I had to remind myself over and over again that He holds my future. But because of my depression and anxiety my brain could not retain that information and allow me to live a fearless life. So I am trying everyday to live by what I know, not what I feel.

Because I could not feel God over the past several years, my mind tried to convince me that God was nowhere near me; I was forsaken. But that is not the truth, that is not what I ‘know’. Hebrews 13:5 ‘….I will never leave you, nor forsake you’. I have to hold fast to these promises even in my darkest days.

Then there were days when I felt so ashamed and guilty. I questioned myself, why am I feeling this way, if I’m professing to be a Christian, then I should not have these thoughts or feelings. But then I thought, if I had any other illness, besides a mental one, would I be feeling the same way? If I had diabetes for example, would I be questioning my relationship with God? I don’ think so! I would look at it as an illness and that my pancreas wasn’t producing enough insulin for my body, so I would need to take medication to regulate my insulin levels. But because I have a mental illness, I am supposed to look at it differently. When really my brain is not creating enough serotonin, which is a neurotransmitter that contributes to the feeling of well-being and happiness. It has nothing to do with my relationship with God. God promised to walk ‘with us’ through our difficult times, not to remove us from them. Although I have depression and anxiety, in spite of this, I can still love God for who He is, not because of the way I feel. I can still serve God with depression just the same as if I had diabetes. There is no difference. Thanks be to God!

Prior to Christmas, I started my own YouTube channel called, ‘Walter On Da Line’. I felt again it was a way to deter my thoughts away from my illness to being funny. And I felt it was another great form of therapy and I was really enjoying it. But then, just to show you how powerful and controlling depression can be; I got up one morning and my depression had moved in and suffocated my ‘funny’. I could not produce a video of ‘Walter’ if my life depended on it and up to this day I still can’t. But I’m praying that with time and some space, I’ll be able to do it again.

Depression is so powerful and debilitating,  that at times it makes life so unbearable. But I live in hope that one day I will be well again. But until then I will keep fighting, hoping that my strength will not fail. I pray that 2019 will be filled with hope, happiness, peace and good health for us all.