Tag: Depression

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My Recovering Journey of Faith

I am a recovering mentally ill person; no I didn’t say I was a recovered mentally ill person.  Just like an alcoholic can never say, “I am recovered, but I am a recovering alcoholic”. I believe the same is true for someone who has a medically diagnosed mental disorder. I can never say I was fully recovered, yes there were times when I was fully, functioning, ‘normal’ person but my illness has been a lifetime journey. It’s almost like you go into remission, but for me, I had many relaspes throughout my lifetime. Some mild, some severe and some in between. But all a fighting battle.

This recovering journey is never linear.. What I mean by that is my symptoms and mood are never on a straight plain. It’s more like a roller coaster, there are many ups and downs, you are never on a level plain. Some days you could be doing fairly well and others you could be ready to jump out of your skin. Just last week my illness overwhelmed me with feelings of exhaustion and my brain was overcrowded with unwanted thoughts that I had no control over. But today I’m feeling a little more empowered and start my uphill climb once again.

This journey is rarely a walk in the park, it’s more like climbing Mount Everest. Some days you are weak has a rat and more days you feel like you can climb; one step at a time. But the encouraging thing is; you are moving, even if it is in baby steps. It’s like the saying, ‘You can eat an elephant, one mouthful at a time.’ And so you can climb this “Mountain of Depression and Anxiety”, one footstep at a time. If you are reading this and you are saying, ‘but I can’t do this anymore, I am just too exhausted.’ Trust me; “YOU CAN”! You are stronger then you think.

Where is my strength coming from, where is your strength going to come from? I remember when I had my last relapse; I searched for healing, my wellness, my escape from this hellish disease from without. I was searching for someone or something to “make” me better. But that never happened, I was at a dead end, I had tried EVERYTHING. But it wasn’t until I searched within myself that I found a strength that I didn’t know existed. But I still take it one day at a time, that’s all we have. Yesterday is gone (so don’t dwell on it) and we are not promised tomorrow (so don’t worry about it). Live in the moment, it’s what we have.

My treatment/therapy now consist of medication (which I know is crucial to my mental health), learning to accept my limitations (my new normal), having structure in my day (a routine), limiting stress as much as I can (sometimes that’s hard to do given my life circumstances), always having a ‘project’ (painting, cleaning, reading, singing, etc.) and one of my favorite of all is; writing my blogs (amazing therapy). All of these elements help me cope with each day and creates a sense of who I am. I am NOT my illness, there is so much more to me then my disorder; so I refuse to be defined by depression and anxiety.

After so many years of searching for the truth of who I really am; I believe I have finally found it. There is so much more to us and to me then this physical and mental body. There is a spiritual component that we have to tap into to find real strength, real courage, and the real you, the real me. And I believe this can only come from an omniscient (all knowing), omnipotent (all powerful), and omnipresent (everywhere present) spiritual power. And there is only one person I know that possesses all three; God Our Father. He has been and still is my greatest source of strength and peace. On days when I was at my lowest, He was and is still my greatest source of stability, my rock, and my hope.

So you see, my recovering journey of faith, starts by placing my entire life into His hands. That’s hard to do because I thought I could do it on my own, what a joke that was. There are some things in life that we have no control over and have to be left with God, He is in control. So now I put my total trust and confidence in someone who is greater then I am. It sure takes a load off me and makes my journey a little easier.

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This Recovering Mental Illness

J                                                       The day is almost over, night settles in bringing with it it’s darkness. But the day was a beautiful day filled with sunshine and bitter coldness. The week itself felt like the Battle of Armageddon. Along with all the everyday battles and struggles, my war was raging on the inside. I’m not referring to a spiritual war; evil against good, but a war between sad and happy, abnormal and normal, unfulfilled and fulfilled, worthless and worthy, hopeless and hopeful. Where do I stop, when will it stop?

When my doctor told me, almost six years ago, that I had an incurable illness, a long uphill climb and the likelihood of returning to work was a long  way down the road. I thought he was nuts (no pun intended). He told me to apply for Canada Pension Disability. Why would I need to do that, I’ll be better in a couple of months? I guess I have to swallow my pride once again and  admit that he was right and I was way off base. Because after the week that I just endured, I realize this ugly disease still ravishes my mind and body and can attack at any moment; even after six years.

Trying to accept the reality of what is, overwhelms me like a raging tsunami. I feel like the Israelites who wandered in  the desert for forty years and not unlike the Israelites, I probably do my share of questioning, grumbling and complaining. Why God have you brought me into this desert to die? I am still searching for that purpose, that reason why I am where I am at this stage in my life. This is so far from my plans (our plans). I would have never said in a million years.

But who am I? Why not me? There are no respect of persons. It rains on the just and the unjust. I just feel there are holes in my umbrella and I’m soaking wet. I long for the rain to hold up and the sun to break through the clouds. His grace is sufficient for me, or is it? There are days I have my doubts but that’s not His fault. This road sure isn’t perfectly straight and flat but many are the twists, turns and pot holes. I just pray everyday that He’ll guide us over this road of life and one day will bring us safely to our destination.

I guess after suffering and fighting this illness for so long, when I still have bad days or weeks; still makes me nervous. I should be better by now, is my wishful thinking. But my illness was very serious and therefore more complex the recovery and that doesn’t happen overnight. I was hoping by now that my recovery would be more advanced, that I would be further along on my healing journey. But I have no control over what will be, I only hope for the best.

 

 

 

 

 

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Fate/Fear

One thing I can say about my blog writings is that I am honest and open about my mental health. Whether that being good or bad; whether that being what you want to read or not. I want to be truthful on how I am feeling; ‘the truth shall set you free’. That’s what this blog/website is all about, my journey through this horrible illness and to give my readers an honest insight into this debilitating disorder. I know that being open with you the reader, helps to free me of some of what I am feeling; I’m unleashing some of my innermost thoughts that can destroy me; a form of therapy. My writings are not a form of enthusiasm or self glory, but instead an outlet, a release, a form in which to unleash my thoughts. My mental illness is certainly not something to be enthusiastic about but it certainly has been an amazing instrument of healing. And certainly not something to bring glory to myself, that is why it as taken a lifetime for me to even talk about my illness because of the shame, embarrassment, indignity and worthlessness it as brought to my life. I won’t win any popularity contest but I will help others and that’s my goal.

Today I have to be honest; I wish I could say I’m feeling great, in reality compared to where I was, which was at a maximum intensity level, right now, this very day, I am at a moderate intensity level. I am still struggling with my depression and anxiety and although I try to live in the moment; my mind still, at times, travels to the darkness where fear is raging, that I could  relapse. And with all the stress and triggers that are in my life (that aren’t going away) I have that right to be fearful.  So today I’m taking that fear by the throat and squeezing the life out of it. I will and cannot live by fear, I am taking back the power, with God’s help. Despite my ugly, smothering triggers, I will rise above it. What choice do I have?  I will fight for my life and accept my fate.

What does that mean? Accept my fate. It means I will accept what I cannot control about my illness.  I saw this quote the other day, ‘ Accept your fate or your fate will destroy you”. Now that’s a big statement to make but I do see the truth in it. Acceptance for me was what put me on the path to healing. Fighting it all the time only exhausted me and made things worse. Acceptance doesn’t mean I gave into my depression and anxiety but I now have power over it. It relieves me of it’s ugly grip. I may have clinical depression and anxiety but ‘it’ doesn’t have me. And yes I do have days when I feel ‘it’ has me but I have to believe and hope that it will pass.  Acceptance means I am no longer in denial, I have this illness. By not admitting it; won’t make it go away. By not talking about it won’t make it go away. And wishing that things were back to before I had my last relapse, won’t make it happen. This is my new normal. The same would be said if I had any other illness, so there is no reason why I can’t say I have a mental illness.

It may be my fate to have this illness and I may have fear of this roaring lion to attack. But fate and fear does not have the last word. I still have to believe that it’s going to be okay and I will not give in but trust to my higher power to hold the pieces together. The things that I myself can control about my life and illness, I will give it all I got. But the things that I  have no control over, and they are many, I will leave into the most capable hands of my Heavenly Father; who knows what He’s doing.

 

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“Tis The Season To Be Jolly”

For countless thousands around the world, those suffering from Depression, this season is not so jolly. When you suffer from depression, no amount of Christmas cheer can change how you feel  on the inside. The expectations, the hustle and bustle, the financial strain, etc. just exasperate the way you feel. Rather than making you feel better, it just adds “fuel to the fire”. And in the end; just makes you feel worse. Let me be honest and speak from my heart and give you some insight on what it feels like to suffer from depression in this most joyous season of the year. This is not being a pessimist but a realist.

I awaken this morning, with no time to decide on how I will feel; but instead I have this overwhelming, sad, empty, heavy urge to just cry. A grown, fifty-three (I mean 29) year old man who just wants to cry. What’s wrong with that? It’s certainly not “normal” and it’s certainly not the way I would choose to wake up. I just want this constant, tormenting illness to go away.There’s nothing I want more than  to enjoy life, not endure it. If I’m bringing you “down” please click the delete button.

Some of you are reading this and you have never experienced what I’m talking about, well good for you, I’m happy for you! The only time you have ever felt sad was when you lost a loved one (and for good reason), something tragic or devastating happened or some alarming trigger.. But for someone suffering from clinical depression, your life experiences have little to do with the way you feel. You suffer from an illness, like all illness (whether physical or mental) ;  you can’t wish it away, command it away, you can’t deny it away. All the positive thinking in the world will not change the way you feel deep down inside, a place where no one else can see. It is what it is; an illness.

But for those of you who know exactly what I’m talking about and I know you are out there. You may not be as open about talking about your illness as I am but that’s okay but just make sure you talk to someone. Don’t try to handle this by yourself; it can’t be done. Talk to someone. And don’t ever feel you are the only one that feels this way. It’s one of the world’s best kept secrets. And that is why we have such a drug, alcohol and suicide epidemic on our hands that will only get worse. People are afraid to talk about the way they are feeling due to the shame this illness brings, people will think you’re weak, the stigma, the ignorance of not knowing or not understanding this illness. When you suffer from this illness you will try anything to numb the pain, to relieve the hurt; I know because I have been there and still struggle today.

I know what it is to think that your family would be better off without you. You would improve their life if you weren’t in it. You could end this suffering and escape the pain and torment, once and for all. But don’t believe that lie, the pain will subside, you will improve. You just have to realize that with this illness, some days are going to be really rough. But you will have good days again. I have been suffering for over five years now, things have gotten better. Today is a really rough day but you see, this too shall pass. I cannot loose hope and neither can you.

We will beat this; one day, one hour,  one minute at a time. And remember you are loved; God loves you and so do I. Life is worth living, In spite of our illness. Don’t  put too much pressure on yourself; it’s okay, not to feel okay. There’s no one that feels okay all the time, no one is exempt. So chin up, shoulders back; “Tis the Season to be Jolly”. We can do this!

 

 

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The Aftermath of my Depression and Anxiety

It’s ironic how I wrote this blog; I wrote the content before I wrote the opening paragraph. That’s me, never do things the normal  way, just being my unique self. The main thing is, I still get the job done. This being a chronic disorder, I still have to face each day has if I’m climbing a mountain. It takes hard work, perseverance and stamina. But you do what you have to do in order to survive.

Nighttime comes and I and I anticipate my escape from my thoughts and feelings, just maybe sleep will give me some reprieve. I do sleep fairly well, thanks to mirtazaphine , but my dreams/nightmares are frightening and tormenting. Just last night, I was on a locked down physc ward and trying to escape; but there was no way out. Because of the trauma I experienced during that period of my illness, seems to haunt me even to this day. I guess it’s my biggest fear that those days will return. I try not to live in fear but deep down in my subconscious, that fear at times resurfaces. I do trust and pray that God will spare me the horrific trauma of ever having to relive that nightmare.

Morning arrives and the first thing I have to do is to debrief myself; that those dreams and nightmares are just that, they are not real. But none the less they are a constant reminder of my past living hell, that will try to follow me through my day. I guess I am still experiencing a lot of post traumatic thoughts that I just can’t turn on or shut off. But I just pray that God will one day allow me to forget.

After debriefing is done and I desperately try to move past it; I am faced with the thoughts of how am I going to face the day with my limited strength and focus. My head is in a fog. The day seems so overwhelming and I feel so powerless over it, it’s then I go to my knees and ask God once again, for the thousandth time, to give me strength, purpose and wisdom. Even when I have days when I feel I can’t do this anymore, and I do have those days, then I believe God moves in and carries me.

Do I believe my illness has made me weak? Well sometimes I do think that but then that still small voice tells me; you are strong. If I were weak I would have given up a long time ago. Society taught us has men, that if we show our emotions then we must be weak; that is so far from the truth. It does show that we have compassion, humbleness and a caring spirit.  And to those who have succumbed to this illness, I am most certainly not saying they are weak but the pain of their illness was just too unbearable. If I were weak (by society’s standards), I would have given up a long time ago. But I pray that God will give me “continued” strength for everyday that lies ahead. Because in our little family we have so many uncertainties, unknowns and fears. But we will conquer  them one day, one hour, one minute at a time, through the strength of our Heavenly Father. Because there are days when you wonder how you are going to keep going, but you just do! What choice do we have?

One of the biggest adjustments still to this day is performing a task, a task that before just came natural and you didn’t even have to think about it; you just did it. But now that task seems so big, overwhelming and I have to over rationalize it. It is still a work in progress and I believe one day will get easier. A good example would be, I’m singing in the Christmas Cantata. Now, I have been singing since I came out of the womb and absolutely love it, it’s my passion. But now it comes with much fear, thoughts of; I can’t do it, I’m not good enough, inadequate and the list goes on. I have to do much mind control and self talk to override those negative thoughts. None the less, it takes much hard work to perform any task and that can be just exhausting. My day is only half done and fatigue overwhelms me. So I do what I can, just on a lower scale and try not to take on more than I can handle.

Have you ever had a task to do and you had to go to the next room in the house to do it and by the time you got there, you forgot what the task was? Well that’s the story of my life now. Just the other day I was supposed to be returning the water jug to the refrigerator and when I realized it, I had the coffee pot; now that’s scary. Because of my disorder, it’s my brain that’s affected, thus my memory and train of thought are/was highly affected. Now whether that’s from the medication, ECT treatments or aftershocks of the disorder; I’m not quite sure what the cause is. Maybe all of the above. Whatever the case, I cannot trust to my memory anymore, if there’s something I need to remember, I have to write it down.  If I have a speaking engagement, I have to write it down; I cannot trust my mind. Then there are times when I’m in the middle of a conversation and I just loose my train of thought. This happens too frequently and becomes a little bothersome. Maybe I need to eat more bananas, they’re supposed to be brain food.

So you see, even after all this time, I still have to fight this dreaded disorder. But I am so thankful for my improvement and believing that with each day will come renewed strength. It’s because of this hope that I can face each new day, despite my disturbed feelings of depression and anxiety.                                                       

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Writing- Therapy?

I’m reading a book by Benjamin Cox and in his book he says, “I am writing to save my life; it’s the only thing that helps, like therapy in a way.” I can totally relate to what he’s referring to. Ben is a recovering addict; I’m a recovering mental ill person. Just like Ben, we will have to fight our “demons” for the rest of our lives.

Every day for me is still a battle/struggle. Life doesn’t come by so easily has it use to. Even the  little things, sometimes seem so overwhelming. Just like Ben, I will always be a work in progress. There will be days when I don’t feel so well but I do have things in place that help me to cope. And writing my thoughts on paper, I find really helps. Then sharing these thoughts on my blog makes me feel  like I am helping someone else who is suffering from their mental illness.

It seems like forever since I have written, but that’s because I have written but have not published in my blog. Sometimes my thoughts are too deep that they are not for public viewing. This  past week has really been a tough one. In spite of my illness, I still have so many battles to fight. All of which are triggers for my illness but fight I must; I don’t live in a bubble, life still has to move on.  One such battle is trying to obtain funding for Lauren.  We get no Government assistance; I have gone from Provincial to Federal with no hope in sight. Then accessibility and all inclusion battles have left me discouraged, drained and to a point of just giving up but I know I can’t; she’s depending on me.  Raising a child with a disability opens your eyes to an whole new different world; that only those who have experienced it can relate. A world and society that are not all that accepting has we hope to think they are.

I guess now I’m an advocate for both our disabilities; Major Depression and Anxiety Disorder and Lauren’s Cerebral Palsy. Neither of which our society has made it any easier to be accepted and included. There is a stigma attached to both and I’m sure that  Ben can certainly relate to; with him being a recovering addict.

I find writing to be an outlet. A place to free your mind of all it’s thought. A means to find an escape, even if it’s only for a few moments. Like Ben, if it’s going to save my life then I will write, write write!

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A Fight For Our Lives

It’s been said ,”that it’s the scrupy wheel that get’s the grease”. It seems I’ve been the scrupy wheel quite often these pass few months. If I have a cause that needs grease then I have no problem stating my case. From mental health issues, accessibility for disabled persons, inclusion for all, funding for disability needs, etc. We have to fight for our lives!  I feel this should go public, just to give you a glimpse into what we have to fight for and this is just a taste.

Several months ago I contacted  our MHA; Ms. Pam Parsons because we were barely surviving. I was speaking with her assistant, who I poured my heart and soul out to. Only to learn we did not qualify for anything ( I’m referring to some help, care and cost for Lauren who has Spastic Quadriplegic cerebral palsy) because of my wife’s income. I heard back from Ms. Parsons this week, not because of my visit to her office but because of my appearance on the NTV show, Heart Matters. It was obvious to me she did not make the connection. When I brought it up, she knew nothing of my visit and had to look up my file to see just what I was all about. I sensed a little disconnection on their part.

After a lengthy conversation with Ms. Parsons it was obvious to me that the Provincial Government was certainly not going to be our lifeline. Yet she did promise to work on our “file” that wasn’t looking all that hopeful.

She then suggested I contact our Federal MP; Mr Ken McDonald. Which I did and again could only speak to his assistant. I documented every word I said during this conversation. And I thought I should share it with you in hopes that public knowledge would add extra pressure.

She started the conversation with, “well what is it exactly you are looking for?” And I started my lengthy monologue:

What I am fighting for is our lives, I feel we are a family drowning in despair, tired of fighting, totally exhausted.

I have fought mental illness all my life, but five years ago I experienced a total mental breakdown. Meaning I was rendered totally disabled; unable to function. I was told by my psychiatrist there was no cure for my illness and that I needed to apply for Canada Pension Disability because it was unlikely I would ever return to work. Our world that day was forever changed. I went from a person that was self-employed for 28 years, to a person with an income of $900 a month through CPD. And because of my illness my brain and body totally shut down.  So my wife was now caregiver for me, my now six year old son, plus our now four year old daughter; who at one years old  was diagnosed with Spastic Quadriplegic Cerebral Palsy. Again a second life altering diagnosis that we had to face, in an already struggling family.

We lived in St.John’s as long has we could until we were forced into bankruptcy and lost everything we had. And on top of all this chaos, struggle and stress, my wife still had to work in order to keep this already struggling family together.Because of all this financial ruin we were forced to move to Bay Roberts; to be closer to family for some support.

Now five years have passed, we are still fighting to hold the pieces together. I am doing much better but far from a functioning, normal human being. With all the hell my wife has encountered, she was diagnosed now with severe anxiety and depression. Thus she was forced by her doctors  to take a leave; no human human being could survive the amount of stress that she is under and still function in a classroom of 28 children and not have a breaking point.

Its certainly true  that in our society today it takes two incomes for a normal family to survive. We are far from  “NORMAL”. Lisa’s income just does not cut it. With Lauren’s needs alone we require one income, to support her needs. Thus far we have had to depend on family, fundraising and various charities. This financial burden should not be placed on others. it’s not their responsibility to do so. And it’s not our lifestyle to be constantly looking for money from family and the general public, they have done enough. Now it’s time for the Government to step in. Lauren is a child that requires much needed treatment, equipment and care; for which we get no assistance.  She deserves better! Now what are you going to do about it?

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“Some” Days (Not All) Just Suck!

  1. Have you ever dragged yourself out of bed, put your feet to the floor and think; can I do this again today? I have, lots of mornings, not that my life is so bad but mentally and physically tired and drained that I just don’t know if I can. But then I give myself my little pep talk and start my routine all over again. And then being thankful at the same time that I can get out of bed. What I wouldn’t give for my little girl to be able to get out of bed and walk, now that puts things into perspective. There’s no wonder my head is spinning out of control. Yet here I am trying to make sense of it all.

 

Let me just give you a sense of where I am. To begin with, I have this amazing disorder. O yes, I know I have come a long way but guess what, I still have this illness. I have to get up every morning and even in my sleep, in my dreams; this illness still haunts me. But I move, refocus and redirect my thoughts. I am still amazed at the number of people who still don’t understand or probably don’t even want to understand this illness. They look at me and say, “o, you’re better now?” I wish I could say ‘yes’ but for some of us who suffer this misunderstood disease, this doesn’t go away ( Major Depression and Anxiety Disorder). We don’t get up one morning and say, “O, I’m better”. I have , so thankfully, improved to a point where I now can manage this illness much better.  So now it’s all about management and keeping the momentum going. It seems I cannot let my guard down for a moment. Having structure and routine in my day is probably one of the best ways I have found to manage my illness. Does this all make sense? Not at all, everyday is a new day and with each day comes new obstacles, challenges, hopes and highs and lows.

 

I play the part very well, I can’t  always wear my heart on my sleeve. For one thing, we live in a “me society” where people only portray the “best life ever syndrome”. Where they have two faces; one for public viewing and the other for private viewing. I’ve also noticed on Facebook; people have a tendency to paint their life has a perfect picture. But in reality, that’s not always the case. You know me by now, say it like it is; some days just suck! I can get up and have the best intentions of having the best day ever, then before the day is over my intentions are long gone. But of course I never give up, tomorrow is going to be better!

 

To best explain what I’m trying to say, it’s best compare it to an alcoholic or a drug addict. An alcoholic will never say I’m recovered but I’m a recovering alcoholic; you are never totally recovered. Has with a drug addict; you are never a recovered addict but you are a recovering addict. Meaning it’s a continuous process, one day at a time. You learn to manage your illness/addiction,the same is to be said for my illness, “I will always be recovering.” One of the best ways to understand my mental illness and it’s recovery is to compare it to diabetes. A diabetic has to maintain, control and manage their blood sugar levels, in the same way I have to maintain, control and manage my mental health. I have learned how to manage my illness rather then always trying to cure it; there is no cure. That’s not to sound hopeless or pessimistic but to be real and truthful.  I believe my healing began when I gave up trying to find a cure but rather accepting my illness for what it is; a recurring, relapsing condition that I have to manage with medical  help, self-help and spiritual help.

 

So if you’re there and thinking to yourself, “I can’t do this anymore.” I’m here to tell you, “Yes you can.” Every day won’t suck, you will (and I do) have good days again. We just have to work a little harder than others who don’t have this illness, at being okay. When I had my last relapse; I honestly thought I would never see the light of day again. But today I do see the light, some days are going to be a little foggy but we can get through them. So chin up, shoulders back, you can do this!

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It’s Not All About Me

When you have an illness, especially long term, it’s not only the patient that’s affected but also the caregiver. I’m not just referring to my own illness but anyone with any kind of illness or disability, whether that be cancer, stroke, heart attack and the list goes on. Behind every sick person there’s that one caregiver who is there 24/7. How does that person survive and not get swallowed up in all the stress and not experience burnout? And how does a marriage or relationship (if the caregiver is your spouse or partner) survive such a traumatic experience and still survive? It’s my goal to give you some insight, hope and to answer some questions we might ask.

With my illness, major depression and anxiety disorder, I became a different person. My illness stripped me of my personality, my self worth, self esteem, my job, my everything; to a point where I felt I was left with nothing, not even a soul. My wife was living with a different man, a man she did not know, a stranger. But deep, deep down inside,that man was still there, trying desperately to come back. Really she was a caregiver for three children; myself, and our two children, one with Cerebral Palsy. I was totally in her care, I could not do this on my own; I was disabled and could not function. But the burden was placed on her to be strong and keep our family together. How long can one person survive in this environment and then try to keep her teaching career has well? In answer to that question; no human being can possibly stand up to all this pressure, there is a breaking point.

Our marriage has suffered immensely, the road has been long and rough. I know many days she must have felt like running and I would not blame her. But thus far we are still together and fighting to get “us” back. Statistics show that marriages undergoing the pressures and stress that ours is, do not survive. But thank God we are surviving and hoping for better days. We have certainly put our marriage vows to the test; “for better or worse”(we’ve experienced the worse), “for richer for poorer” (we’ve been down to nothing, financially), “in sickness and in health” (we have been tested to the max). And praying to God each day that He will hold us together.

The way in which a mental illness differs from many (but not all) other illness, is that with a mental illness it changes who you are, on a personal level. My wife was not living with the same man anymore, this adjustment is what many cannot wrap their heads around. After five years we are now trying to rekindle that love again. Mental illness has certainly been a big strain on our marriage but its going to take a lot of hard work to survive. But we are giving it all we got and some days that’s not a lot; we are so drained and exhausted. So if you are reading this and you are a caregiver of any illness; my hats off to you! May God give you strength, courage, and hope to go on.

Then there’s the question; how can one person (the caregiver) survive all of this stress and not reach a breaking point. I really believe, it’s not possible that it does change who that person has become. The years of stress, feelings of abandonment, loneliness, hopelessness, fatigue; all take it’s tole on that person. Maybe it’s easy for someone to judge a caregiver and say , “well that’s what they signed up for”. That is not true and if you haven’t walked in their shoes and haven’t experienced the life of a caregiver, then don’t judge. But instead, be that helping hand, that voice of encouragement and that source of strength for the caregiver. For they need and deserve all the help they can get, just has much as the ill person. But lots of times we have the tendency to overlook and forget about what the caregiver is going through.

So if you are a caregiver and you are falling beneath the load, please seek help; talk to your doctor, seek out a good friend, take some time for you. Don’t feel guilty about doing so, you need help too. If you don’t look after yourself it’s possible to get “caregiver burnout”. And yes there is such a thing and is very serious. “Caregiver burnout is a state of physical, emotional and mental exhaustion”. Burnout can occur when caregivers don’t get the help they need or if they try to do more than they are able. They can experience fatigue, stress, anxiety and depression. So take the time to look after yourself before you get to this point.

So today I salute all you caregivers! Especially one in particular, my wife Lisa. Thank you for sticking by me, through thick and thin. There are no words to express my gratitude. And Lauren and Logan say thanks has well. We love and appreciate you.

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Writer’s Block

I think I have writer’s block! But I decided it’s time to write anyway. I’m sure has I start writing, I’ll have lots to share. I think I’ll answer some questions I have roaming around in my head and update you on what’s happening and how I’m progressing on this journey of mine. To say the least it’s been a roller coaster ride and not the fun kind.

Why do I blog, why do I invest in my time to write and what’s a blog anyway? A blog is really the publishing of one’s thoughts, activities and happenings on the internet. Much like journalling but journalling is for personal viewing only; a private writing of your thoughts into a book rather than on the internet. Blogging and journally are both a very effective form of therapy for individuals that need an outlet to release your thoughts and feelings. Whether that be a private journal or a public blog. My doctor recommended I start journalling a long time ago. I did that for a while but then I realized I wanted to share my journey with others and in the process may help others who are walking this same road. So here I am sharing my life with you.

I guess it’s time for a little update on my progress or regression, whatever it might be. A few weeks ago it felt like regression but in reality I cannot honestly say that I am where I would like to be. After five years, I still struggle every day. My nightsleeps are always interrupted with thoughts of panic and fear. Mornings are still a ‘fight for my life’ battle from within my head. I manage with a lot of self-talk, mindfulness (being in the moment) and being aware of my breathing.

A few weeks ago I became very tired, frustrated and discouraged; I was sick of being sick! So I thought I’d take matters into my own hands and take action before this escalated any further. It is one of my greatest fears that my ugly illness will show itself in all of it’s fury once again and I cannot let that happen. I’M AFRAID I WOULD NEVER SURVIVE ANOTHER RELAPSE OF THIS MAGNITUDE EVER AGAIN. So immediately I called my psychiatrist office, expecting to get in immediately (silly me). I certainly would not have called if I had thought this was not an urgent matter. The earliest, the secretary said, “is September 28th” which is my original appointment anyway. So I said in hopelessness and urgency to put me on a wait list; so far….no call!

Coincidentally I had an appointment made with my family doctor for the following day. When I visited him I told him of my issue with my psychiatrist. My doctor, sensing my desperation, assured me he could help. I was, at the time, on 187.5mg of effexor. He thought he should increase by 37.5mg until I reached a maximum of 300mg. I left feeling much encouraged and with an hope that an increase would help. I have now reached my 300mg dose for each day. Now I’m living in hopes that this dosage is going to improve my condition and I’ll feel better. But all in time. So now I wait. AGAIN!

But on the other hand, I am doing so much better than I have in the past. I now have longer periods of time when I feel the sunshine. Days when “hope springs eternal”, meaning; “it is human nature to always find fresh cause for optimism”. So for that I am so grateful and thankful. And pray to God that I will never go back to that cold, dark, ugly place that once I was. All we have to do is hang in there (that’s not easy to do) and never give up.