Tag: tired

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The Unseen Caregivers

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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Being Strong

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

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

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

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

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2020; A Year We Would Not Soon Forget

January 20, 2017 was my first post to my blog; www.harrislisa72.com. Life & Times Of  “The Tuckers”. ‘Living with severe depression and anxiety. Raising a child with cerebral palsy. The ups and downs of life; the rain and the sunshine’. A form of therapy that brought me through many very dark days. And here I am, January 2, 2021; posting again. Never in my life did I think this blog would last for years and would eventually be published into a book. And may I go further and say, books (two at the least). I can always dream; dreams do come true. This, I feel, will be a cause to pause from writing about my illness. As therapeutic as blogging has been for me, it has also been exhausting and draining; I’ve been misunderstood, stigmatized, traumatized and ridiculed. But that came with no surprise to me; it’s what having a mental illness does to a person. But I still had to write the truth, no matter what. What was meant to start out as therapy for myself, also became a means to help others, through my own experiences with a mental illness. I learned that, much like everything in life, we cannot change the world; nor did I think I could. But I did think I could help one person at a time. And if that meant putting my heart and soul into my writing (raw & honest) then I was willing to do so.  If it meant helping someone else, to save one life, then I was successful in what I set out to do.

In 2012, I had my last relapse, and was told by my doctor that I would not be going back to work; if ever. And here I am in 2021, still fighting my disabling, crippling, tormenting illness; an illness that has left me fighting for that one ‘good day’. But inside this physical body a war is still raging against my mental health. Over the past few years, life has introduced many triggers, many uphill climbs, many times when I just had to crawl. But I fight with what I have and there are times when that may not be much. But I fight!

When I look back over the past year, and wonder how I survived, I really am in awe that I am doing as well as I am. The year was filled with much sadness, loss, sickness, discouragement and I could go on, but what amazes me the most, is that we are still fighting; fighting against all odds.

When Lauren was diagnosed with Spastic Quadriplegic Cerebral Palsy in 2014, we knew we were going to encounter many challenges and obstacles; but we had no idea just how many; it was one thing after another, there was no end. We were told, when she was around one year old, that her vision was affected, they just couldn’t tell us just how much she was seeing. Being the naïve parents we were, we just  thought,  when she gets a little older she’ll just need glasses and that’ll take care of her vision. We were so wrong again.  When she was referred to the CNIB (Canadian National Institute for the Blind), we were literary in shock. We realized then that Lauren’s vision was not going to be corrected with a pair of glasses. My God, how were we going to get through this? How were we going to accept this? Sometimes you just don’t have a choice. Then she was referred to APSEA (Atlantic Provinces Education Authority) in March 2020. Their findings were what led to her being diagnosed with CVI (Cortical Visual Impairment). This has more to do with how the brain is interpreting what the eye is seeing. There is no cure per se. With intervention, improvement is possible, but not a lot of hope, in my opinion.

The year, 2020, began with Lisa’s surgery on March 16. This surgery was supposedly a routine surgery that would only require an overnight stay in the hospital. However, due to complications resulting from the surgery, Lisa was rushed back into the OR for emergency , life-saving surgery on March 17. This surgery resulted in  her being put in ICU on a ventilator, fighting for her life.

And if that weren’t  bad enough, the hospital was now on lockdown due to the worldwide pandemic of the Covid19 virus. Lisa had to experience this all alone because there were no visitors allowed in the hospital;  not even her distraught husband. You talk about an hell on earth, and that was exactly what we were experiencing. Lisa stayed in the hospital for eight days. Once released, we thought we were on the road to recovery; so we thought. To make a long story short, within five months Lisa was back in the hospital from August 23- September 3, due to more complications from that first surgery back in March 16, 2020; a nightmare for us all, especially our two children, Logan & Lauren.

Then, once Lisa was back home and settled in again, she had to find the courage to tell me that my sweet niece, Tonya, had suddenly passed away. Shock, grief and bereavement totally shot me down! The feeling of disbelief consumed my mind. How could this be? She was so young! Our whole family was lost in a sea of grief. A part of all of us was missing; that piece of your heart that you hold close to you, had now gone to Heaven.

It seemed like the year could not get any worse, but the pandemic was sweeping the world! Schools were closed for the remainder of the school year. Lisa was pretty much out of commission; what was supposed to initially be a six week recovery period, ended up to be a full year for recovery. And, here we were with a child that had CP, requiring 24/7 care; care that we had to provide on our own.  All the while, we continued to try to give our nine year old little boy as normal a life as possible.  In spite of it all, he was a trooper and we are so proud of him.

I had to believe that God was in the midst of all this chaos, because this was something we could not handle in our human strength. I prayed for God’s strength, comfort and protection to make it through these most trying times. He was and is faithful!                                                                                                                         

 

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The Year I Died

In 2012 someone died. That someone was me. Something changed that year that I have fought to resurrect, fought to bring that person back to life; to resuscitate. It’s now 2020 and I’m still trying to find that person who died. My spirit died, my enthusiasm, my zest for life died. Some days are worse then others but this week as left me feeling numb, no motivation; I’m still missing me. And I don’t like the one that’s left behind.

The new me is in a constant struggle to survive. The fighting as left me exhausted, tired and numb. I find it so hard to feel happiness, especially since that’s all I want. I believe happiness is something you shouldn’t have to fight for but should come naturally. And after all these years I thought I would be at a much better place of improvement with my mental health. But it’s like I’m still fighting to keep me alive. Still fighting to resuscitate that lifeless me.

I remember back in 2012, my wife Lisa, described me as a ‘walking corpse’. I’m sure I’ve improved pass that acute stage but it’s been a battle I fought every day. How much can one person fight and how long can a person fight before they come to a breaking point? That’s the question I’ve asked myself during the pass few weeks.

This year as brought many challenges and obstacles for everyone. The worldwide Covid19 pandemic itself as added so much stress and anxiety to us all. But for us, those living with a mental illness, this pandemic as been a trigger and frightening experience and many have found it hard to cope. I’ve certainly had my moments that’s for sure. At times when my wife Lisa was hospitalized for three surgeries in less then a year. Then Lauren with her already comprised immune system was hospitalized for cerebral palsy related issues. And our son, Logan, was thrown around in all this chaos and turmoil; a strong but worried little boy, dealing with issues that no little boy should not have to face.

So in the midst of a world that was so frightening, unpredictable and isolated, I felt the pressure of having to survive. There were days I thought I would crumble but I knew I had to be resurrected to get through this yet another life changing crisis. I knew that if I crumbled we were doomed and I could not let it happen. I was reminded of the safety regulations repeated by a flight attendant on an airline prior to take off. And it was advice that I had to use during this very stressful time. The flight attendant would say, ‘In the event of a drop in cabin pressure; air masks will be released from above your heads. If you are travelling with infants, small children, seniors or anyone requiring assistance with their mask; put on your own mask FIRST!’ And that’s what I had to do, put on my own mask first and  then I would be equipped to help those that were in my care. I was resuscitated once again.

Maybe the year to come will be my year to be resurrected. The year I come back to life! For everyone’s sake, I need to return, I need to be there for my family, in every way. I pray for strength, wisdom and endurance to press on, to never give up. To live again!

 

 

 

 

 

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War of the Mind

It’s been months now since I have written a blog, July 25,2020 to be exact (www.harrislisa72.com). I just felt there was nothing else to say. Not sure if that meant I had written all I needed to write about mental illness or if my illness had built a roadblock in my mind. A wall that I could not break through, maybe more the latter.

I became a prisoner in my own mind. So many things that I found enjoyment in, things that were not just  hobbies for me but life saving therapy. I wanted so desperately to engage in again but I could not, although I yearned within me to be able. But I just could not. I felt myself spiralling down that dark hole of depression. But I knew I had to rescue myself from that crippling, disabling hole of  despair. But how? It felt that my thought process could not function to come up with a plan. I couldn’t write anymore, words could  not describe what I was  feeling. The one thing that brought me some healing therapy, I felt I couldn’t do anymore; blogging! And thus months went by and I didn’t blog my thoughts. I was frozen in time; speechless.

Everything seemed so overwhelming again. The things in reality that were so small to perform, now seemed like a mountain, a mountain I felt I just could not climb. Days went by and I fought to make each one matter. Some  days I did better then others. I was in survival mode. And survive I did, in spite of what my broken mind was telling me.

Many associate mental illness with weakness but I have learned over the years that people with a mental illness are some of the strongest people I know. I am strong (if I  weren’t, I would never survive this hellish disease of the mind) but I am tired. I’m tired of fighting just to be okay, something maybe that others know nothing about. But I know there are others out there that know and feel exactly what I’m saying.

We live in a world where we are expected to be happy and positive all the time. If we show our true self, our true feelings, then we are viewed as being different and strange. And of course this is where stigma, prejudice and discrimination comes in. But it’s perfectly okay to feel sad, angry, annoyed, frustrated, scared or anxious. Having these feelings doesn’t make you a ‘negative person’. It makes you human. So I guess I’m human after all because I have certainly dealt with all these feelings. Being depressed doesn’t mean you are negative, it means you are not okay, your ‘happy’ is just not there.

I won’t lie to you and tell you life is easy, it’s not. And when you have a mental illness, everything in life is intensified to the extreme. Just going to the grocery store requires so much mental energy, you have to push yourself out the door. Your mind is telling you; you can’t do this. But you know you have to because if you surrender to your thoughts then your illness will consume you. And you eventually would become ‘paralyzed’ and be forever controlled by your thoughts.

So let’s fight this battle together, we are not alone. You can do this, I can do this. Do I always win this war of the mind, of course not, I’m human. There are days when I have no choice but to give in. But there’s one thing I know, I will not give up! When those really rough days come, I remind myself that I can get through this; one second, one minute, one hour at a time. Remember to be kind to yourself, you are worth it and  so am I!

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Lord Help Us To Believe

Lauren asked Mommy, ‘Mommy are you sure Jesus is going to make me better?’ Wow, how do you answer that truthfully? What we want and what we pray for isn’t always what we get. Sometimes God’s way isn’t our way. Our timing sometimes is way off, we expect answers right away, but I believe that’s not the way it always works. And trusting God when your five years old little girl is in pain and can’t walk is very hard to understand and accept.

You see, Lauren as been in bed now for months, she is gradually improving but very slowly. She is so intelligent and because she is, there is nothing she doesn’t analyze. Therefore after all this time she as spent in bed and having so much pain and discomfort, she’s starting to question God. Everyone keeps telling her that Jesus is going to make her better. So she, being no different then ourselves, asks the question, ‘Mommy are you sure Jesus is going to make me better?’ Are we giving her false hope and unrealistic goals? Is she beginning to realize that I’ve been in pain and discomfort for so long and Jesus hasn’t made me better? Maybe He never will, maybe this is her life.

And I’m beginning to believe that maybe what we are telling her isn’t what God wants at all. It’s what we want and oh we want it so desperately. There is nothing I would want more then for her pain to end and she could just get up and walk. But is this what God wants? I don’t know, my thoughts are not God’s thoughts. I am trying so hard to believe and trust, when things aren’t looking that great. I believe that miracles can still happen and that God is our greatest option. But the reality is we are tired, worn down, worried, anxious and helpless. There are days when we feel we are sinking, our ship is going down, when we have no other alternative but to keep looking for that light, that beam of hope, it’s there somewhere, still shining; but the fog is so thick with life’s trials and tribulations that it’s so hard to see. We need a miracle, if not for healing, then for strength, hope and wisdom to endure, to overcome, to do what we have to do.

A family cannot experience what we are and it not affect the whole family unit. It’s tough on all of us and we struggle to keep us together. All four of us have experienced so much trauma in our lives, so much unforeseen change, that some days it’s near impossible just to focus on getting through that day. But we try to take it one day at a time and that’s not easy when the decisions you make today, could drastically affect tomorrow. We have to believe that there is someone greater, an higher power that is watching over us. Lord help us to believe.

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A Day In The Life of My Mental Illness

 

 

 

 

 

I am so sick and tired of mental illness! I hate it! And I’m sure you must be tired of reading about my mental illness. Why do I do this? Why do I feel the need to blog? Why can’t someone else who’s probably a better writer, more qualified, more gifted, take up the torch. This week as been rough (what else is new lol); I took up my pen several times to write something. But there was nothing, I felt numb, blank, empty, nothing left to give, nothing left to share. The battle with my illness had left me powerless and speechless. I had nothing left to share that could possibly help someone else, I felt I needed someone to help me.

You see when you have been given a diagnoses such has mine, it is something that’s not going away; there is no cure. Just like cancer (and I am not comparing, they are two totally different illnesses) but in some ways they are alike. My ‘cancer’ as killed and destroyed who I am, it eats away at your soul, your self, your being and your will. It leaves you with the haunting fear of a relapse.

So this past week as awakened my somewhat sleeping monster. Before my eyes are opened to face the day; my mind is busy with crippling nightmares. Nightmares of being on a locked down unit on an hospital ward, not a prison ward. A prisoner not a patient. I will forever be traumatized by those evil days of hospitalization. Traumatized by the reality of knowing that I am treatment resistant and I have exhausted all available treatments. My dreams will not let me forget this mesmerizing reality. Then there’s the memories (of what memory I have left of that time) of ECT. In my dreams I’m awakened before the treatment is complete and I’m strapped to the bed and no one will free me. Then morning comes and I realize I’m safe, safe from my dreams but never safe from my reality.

I have to take control of my thoughts as soon as my eyes are open, if not, they could easily spiral out of control to a point of being extremely overwhelmed and panic could easily take over. But thankfully I am still able, to some extent, control my own thoughts. With a mental illness there are not just the mental symptoms but also the physical symptoms. There are times when panic attacks (and thankfully right now are pretty much under control) but I still experience related symptoms such as an extreme rise in body temperature and feelings of mild fear and panic. It’s my goal to keep them from escalating into a full blown panic attack; which I never want to experience again. So I start my day as if every things okay.

All day, every day, my physical body feels triple it’s weight, there’s an heaviness that never goes away. It may fluctuate but never leaves. Then there’s the rising tides of emotion that you just want to cry. Most times you don’t even know why; you just do.  Then you don’t  want to start because if you do, it just won’t stop. But sometimes I believe your emotions can be used for your good; a form of release. To admit this makes me feel weak but the truth is; God gave us emotions for a reason. Many times in the Bible, Jesus is recorded as being emotional; ‘Jesus wept.’ If Jesus can cry, and He’s the Son of God; then so can I. Because someone doesn’t shed tears, doesn’t make them any stronger then someone who does ( but if the truth were known; everyone cries). I remember my Dad being a very emotional man, especially when he talked of spiritual things and the faithfulness of God. And because of that I respect him, and admire his compassion for others; he had a big heart that made him a very strong, wise and gentle man. I hope to be just half the man he was, he left me with a great legacy that I hope I will live up to and make him proud. And when we meet again, I hope he can look at me and say, ‘See, I told you, you could do it’. But right now, today, I feel I can’t do it. But I will, somehow find my way.

By the time half my day is done; fatigue sets in, not just tired but exhausted. I fight it as long as I can but there are times when I just give in and have no choice but take a nap. And of course that makes me feel guilty, I’m not suppose to sleep in the middle of the day. But sometimes I just have to listen to my body and rest.

It’s my prayer everyday to just be able to have a day when I feel free and not be held captive by my mind. To just enjoy life, my wife and children without being dictated by my mind of what I can or cannot do. I get angry, angry at myself, angry at not being able to rid myself of this illness. I just want to live, not just to survive.

Not everyone who has a mental illness experience what I am experiencing. Every person is different and their journey may not be at all comparable to mine. If you are reading this and you experience a mental illness (mine being Major Depression and Anxiety Disorder), I hope that you cannot relate to what I am saying because I would not want to wish this on my worse enemy (I hope I have no enemies). I may be treatment resistant but that doesn’t mean that you are or will be. I pray that you will respond to your treatment successfully and are able to live a normal, functioning life. And although I may not be responding well to treatment, I am responding to a certain extent; just not to the point where I would like to be. But I will not give up hope, I will fight to the end!

 

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Depression, I Hate You!

Depression, I hate you!                                                                                                                         Why can’t you just leave me alone?                                                                                             Why don’t you ever go away?

I hate that when I’m sad, people mistaken it for anger                                                        When really I’m so sad that I can’t find my happy                                                                  Where have you gone?                                                                                                                        I miss you so much.

I am angry                                                                                                                                                   Angry at depression                                                                                                                             Angry at what it has done to my life

You have stolen from me                                                                                                                     I hate the way you twist and distort my thoughts                                                                 You fill my head with ugliness.

I hate that there’s no cure                                                                                                                  But I need to escape this hell so desperately                                                                           Even though I try,                                                                                                                                   I fight every day;                                                                                                                                     every single day!

Depression, I hate you!                                                                                                                         You steal, you lie                                                                                                                                     You cover up the good and I can’t find it.

Give me back my life                                                                                                                             My days I have lost                                                                                                                                  The years I have lost                                                                                                                            I have missed so much                                                                                                                       And I hate you because I can never get it back.

Give me back the person I want to be                                                                                          The person I was before you destroyed me                                                                             Before you changed who I am.

I am so exhausted and tired                                                                                                              That makes me impatient with others and with me                                                             That’s not fair!

Depression, I am angry                                                                                                                        I am tired, I am sad                                                                                                                                 I hate you,                                                                                                                                                    I hate you,                                                                                                                                                 I  HATE YOU!!!!!

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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!