Carrying Depression and Anxiety

                  As I have shared, I have lived with depression and anxiety for most of my life. Starting in my teenage years, depression has been a constant companion. Anxiety joined in a few years later. These two mental illnesses have been a heavy load. Somehow, I have learned to live with them. I owe a lot to therapy and treatment for my ability to function. Despite being able to function, my illnesses still make life difficult. 

                  Most days I can carry depression and anxiety. They impact my life, but I still live my life. On these days I have functioned. I have worked and socialized. I appear “normal”, as if nothing is wrong. I hesitate to use the word “normal”. What I mean by using this word is illness-free. These are the days when I appear to be like everyone else. No one would know that depression is whispering in my ear or that anxiety is causing a tightness in my chest. I have learned strategies that help me cope with the day-to-day effects of my mental illnesses. These are the days when I carry my depression and anxiety well.

                  As I heal and learn more about coping with depression and anxiety, the more I can function as if they were not present. It is a bit strange to say that I am still learning. Depression and anxiety have been present in my life for close to 40 years now. I don’t think I will ever stop learning. I see that as a positive. It means I am working on living with my illnesses. 

                  Even with continually being open to learning, there are days when the depression and anxiety are very heavy. They drag me down on these days. I feel like I don’t have control of what I am feeling. Depression and anxiety are in charge on these days. On these days I am unable to function as I would like. I find myself hiding, unable to interact. Depression feels like a heavy blanket darkening my world. Anxiety becomes a pressure and an antsy sensation that consumes me. These days happen more frequently than I would like, but most people would have no idea that I am experiencing this. I have learned to hide it. These are the days when I cannot carry my depression and anxiety. I am weighed down by their heaviness. I cannot see because of their darkness. 

                  This is mental illness. This is depression and anxiety. Some days I can live and carry them well. Other days I am crushed by their weight. I have good days and bad days. There are also the in between days. Those days when people who know me might pick up on how I am feeling, but I am able to hide it from others. 

                  I have learned that when the weight of depression and anxiety becomes heavy, it is time for treatment. I know I need the help of my mental help team. I have learned that needing both treatment and support are okay. Learning this is part of living with mental illness. The image that comes to mind for me is of rocks on a chain. On the good days I am dragging the chain of rocks behind me. The rocks are with me, but I can carry them. On the bad days those rocks are on top of me. In these moments they are a weight I cannot lift. 

                  Depression and anxiety are illnesses. These illnesses never leave me. I am just able to carry them better at some times than at other times. For me mental illness is not static. It weighs on me differently in each moment. I need to be able to identify how it is affecting me. I need to acknowledge the times when I can push myself. I need to recognize the times when I need to take a step back and protect myself. Most importantly, I need to give myself the grace to accept that what I am experiencing is an illness. 

                  

Light from a Disco Ball

Dancing as a means of healing became important to me over the last year and a half. I have always thought of illness and healing in terms of darkness and light. Darkness has represented my battle with depression. While light represents times of healing. These images make sense to me. I am able to use them to describe what I live with in terms of depression. 

       About a year and a half ago another illness took over my life. I was diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer. Darkness blanketed me. This time I did not know how to emerge from the darkness. I could not see a healing light. I thought I was going to die. This seemed ironic considering how often I have been plagued by suicidal ideation. Then I met an oncology nurse who changed things. In my first interaction with her she taught me something that gave me hope. It seems a little silly, but she said to beat cancer I had to dance. Then she did a little dance right there in the exam room. At first, I did not understand. Then I learned that she was a breast cancer survivor. She knew the care provider side as well as the patient side. Dancing became our connection. She would waltz into the room while I was hooked up to IV tubing and encourage me to dance in the chemo chair. At night when I felt like crap, overwhelmed by nausea and pain, I would hear her telling me to dance. Physically, I couldn’t get up and dance, but I would imagine myself dancing. Slowly, I would feel a little better. 

      What does dancing have to do with darkness and light? That’s where the disco ball comes into the picture. From the beginning I envisioned a disco ball when I tried to dance. I do not know why this image came to my mind, but I would picture a disco ball when I thought about dancing. A disco ball is made up of many broken pieces of glass. Together they create a ball of light. The disco ball connected my healing to light. Dancing was shining a light in the darkness of cancer. The light was with me just as it is in my battle with depression. It is the healing. 

       Illness, whether depression or cancer, shrouds me in darkness at times. Despite this darkness a healing light is present. Sometimes it is more difficult to see, but with a little hope the light is there. I find the light in different ways. Sometimes it is through writing. Other times it is by reaching out to my care team. Dancing also brings me healing even if it is just tapping my toes or moving my hips in the chemo chair during treatment. Healing requires me to reach for the light. It is important that we all reach for the light no matter what ails us. There is a light of healing waiting for us to reach out to it. 

 

A Deeper Look at a Misconception

                  I want to spend a little more time on one of the misconceptions about mental illness that I addressed on Monday. It is often falsely believed that people with mental illness cannot live productive and fulfilling lives. Different mental illnesses impact individuals differently. People respond to treatment differently. As a result, there is no specific way of life for people with mental illness. Life might look very different for someone with major depression than it does for someone with obsessive-compulsive disorder. Depression might express itself very differently in people. 

                  I have been very open about my diagnosis, major depression and generalized anxiety disorder. These illnesses have been a part of my life since I was in my early teens. They have colored how I see the world and how I function in the world, but most of the time they have not stopped me from functioning. Have they caused difficulties for me? Yes, often, but I still function. When I am at my best, I can live with minimal disruption due to my illness. At my worst times I have had to take time off work for treatment. I worked for 26 years as a special education teacher. It wasn’t always easy. There were days when my depression clouded my abilities. There were times when I had to take a day off. Sadly, because of the misconceptions and stigma surrounding mental illness, I had to lie about why I was taking the day off work. I couldn’t say my depression was overwhelming me. Instead, I would have to feign a cold or flu symptoms. 

                  I remember having a conversation with an administrator who I had mistakenly trusted. I told her about my depression. Her response shocked me. She told me I had to turn off my depression when I was at work. What the heck does that mean? I had no response for her. Depression cannot be turned on and off at will. It is not a water faucet. I learned in that moment to not trust administrators with the truth about my mental illness. 

It is difficult for me to accept how mental illness and physical illness are viewed so differently in the workplace. When I was diagnosed with cancer no one told me to turn off my cancer. Why then is it seen as okay to expect me to just magically stop my depression? When I had to take time off because my depression had reached a point where I was not able to work, I couldn’t tell anyone the reason I was out of work. “I am sick” was my answer when asked why I was out. I learned it is better not to be open about my mental health in some situations.  This shouldn’t happen. We should be able to take time off for our mental health.

                  The misconception that mental illness is something we can just push into the background is hurtful and prevents people from seeking the treatment they need. While not all of us with mental illness are able to work, many of us are able to do so. We may require some accommodations, like the ability to take a couple hours off for a therapy or psychiatric appointment. People with mental illness are productive members of society.

                  Mental illness affects us, but it does not always incapacitate us. We need only look at some of the people who have spoken about mental health in recent years. Some are Olympic champions. Some are successful in business or health care. Others are authors or entertainers. They have a platform that they can use to garner positive attention for mental health. I am grateful for their openness. It helps all of us.

                  There is no one picture of life with mental illness. Some people may not be able to work or live independently. Others need time for treatments. Still, others can work and lead what might be called a “normal” life. Although, I don’t believe there is a normal life. I think the most important thing to remember is that we are all different. Mental illness affects each of us differently. In some moments we may need more help than in other moments. That is okay. What is important is to accept that we have an illness, but that illness does not define us. It is a misconception to believe that people with mental illness live a certain way. We are as unique as anyone else. Our lives are impacted in different ways at different times. Still, we have value. We are more than our mental illness. 

 

                  

Misconceptions About Mental Health

                  Mental health is receiving more attention. More people are aware of how mental illness is affecting people in different areas of life. Social media is full of mental health topics. On the surface this is a good thing. We need awareness to build acceptance. However, with the increased attention comes misconceptions. There is still a lack of true understanding when it comes to the impact of mental illness on people’s lives.

                  One misconception that has been around for a while is that people with certain mental illnesses are violent. This is a hurtful misconception. Most people with mental illness are not violent. I have read that people with mental illness are more likely to be the victim of violence than be the perpetrator. Unfortunately, when a heinous crime is committed the media starts questioning the suspect’s mental health. This increases the misconception that people with mental illness are violent or dangerous.

                  Another misconception involves the self-care movement. Don’t get me wrong self-care is important when dealing with mental illness, but it doesn’t cure a mental illness. All the meditation or bubble baths in the world are not going to make depression or bipolar disorder magically go away. Schizophrenia is not going to be cured by walks on the beach or yoga. Social media would like us to believe these strategies have curative powers. There is a place for meditation, yoga, bubble baths, and walks in nature. These self-care practices can lift mood and relax a person, but they do not make the illness go away. That is where the misconception lies. Mental illnesses are just that, illnesses. We would not tell a person with cancer or heart disease that these practices will cure their illness. Whether it is a mental or physical illness, self-care strategies can help alleviate symptoms, but they will not cure the illness. 

                  People often think that when a person has a mental illness such as depression, their life is constant doom and gloom. People assume a person cannot function with mental illness. This could not be further from the truth. There are many people who live ordinary lives, who function without being noticed. Many of us with depression can maintain a work life and a family life. We deal with our illnesses in private. Often, we are forced to do this because of stigma.

                  There are many people who spout off the latest social media quote about mental illness and then when encountering a person with mental illness fall back on outdated ideas about the illness. The misconceptions above are just some of the ideas that lead back to stigma and force people with mental illness into the darkness of their illness. It is important that we talk more about mental illness and mental health. As Glenn Close stated, “What mental health needs is more sunlight, more candor, more unashamed conversation about illnesses that affect not only individuals, but their families as well.”

                  We can encourage mental health practices such as meditation without assuming it is a cure for mental illness. When someone says that a crime was committed because the suspect has a mental illness, we can speak up and point out that a mental health diagnosis does not mean a person will be violent. We can recognize that mental illnesses are illnesses and acknowledge that they will manifest differently in each individual. Misconceptions about mental health can be harmful. We need to work to overcome these misconceptions. It is important to be honest and realistic. The more we acknowledge the truth about mental health/mental illness, the more likely lives of people will improve. 

 

 

 

 

 

Sometimes Our Brains Lie

    The other day I saw a meme that said, “Sometimes your brain can be a lying piece of sh**.”  That really resonated with me. My brain is often filled with negative messages. My depression and anxiety spur these negative messages on daily. I have come to realize that these negative messages often are not true. It is difficult to deal with them but recognizing them as untrue is an important step.

                  My brain has been lying to me most of my life. It tells me that I cannot do things. It tells me that everything is going to go wrong. My brain likes to force the idea that I am worthless on me. The truth is my brain is lying. Unfortunately, depression encourages me to believe these things. Depression grasps the negative and magnifies it, allowing my brain’s lies to drag me down. That is the power of our brains and the power of depression.

                  What if we could turn this negativity around? What if we could present the truth to the lies? Not easy tasks, but they are tasks worth trying. When our brains are lying to us the first thing we need to do is recognize the lie. We cannot stop the lie if we do not acknowledge it. Acknowledging the lie might sound like, “Okay, I know that is not true. I am not going to be led by lies” or “Stop. That is a lie.” We don’t have to say it out loud. It can be said in our heads. However, if saying it out loud helps, do it. Sometimes I find myself needing to talk back to my thoughts out loud.

                  Once we have acknowledged that a thought our brain is telling us is a lie, we need to rephrase it. Let’s say my brain is telling me that I am going to mess up a work project. After telling my brain that it is lying, I might say something like, “I have successfully completed projects like this in the past, there is no reason to believe I won’t be successful this time.” What if our brains are telling us that no one cares about us? Again, we first tell our brain to stop. Then we can point out at least one person who does care. Maybe we cannot think of a friend or family member in the moment because we really believe we are alone. I have been there. This happens. Could we tell our brain, “Well, my psychiatrist or psychologist cares”? I realize there is a rabbit hole looming there. Our brain will tell us that he or she must act like they care because they are being paid. Maybe in this instance we need to just state it as a fact. It will help gets us through the brain’s lies. I also believe that most psychiatrists and psychologists actually do care, or they wouldn’t be doing the work they do.

                  Talking back to our brain’s lies is not easy. It takes a lot of work. It is hard for people without depression. So, it makes sense that it is even harder for those of us who are faced with depression. Depression enjoys latching onto the brain’s lies. This is how it tears us down. We need to try to talk back to the lies. The more we do it, the more likely talking back will become a habit. I am not saying this will cure our depression, but I do believe that talking back to our brains is a tool we can use to help ourselves. 

                  Remember, as amazing as our brains are, there times when the brain is a lying piece of sh**.  At those times we need to take control. We need to speak back to our brains. Think of it this way, if a person spoke to someone you cared about the way our brains speak to us, would you allow it? Of course not. We cannot allow our brains to speak to us in a way we would not tolerate it speaking to those we care about. 

With Hope We See Light

“Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness.” – Desmond Tutu

 

                  Recently I have been thinking a lot about the concepts of darkness and light. I use these as descriptors for depression and healing. The quote above from Desmond Tutu ties up what I am referring to when I talk about the darkness and light. Hope. We need hope to pull us through the darkness and into the light. 

                  Hope can be a difficult concept. At the times in my life when the darkness has been thick and I wanted to give up, I have been lifted by hope. Often, that hope has originated in others, especially my mental health team. Each of them has taught me to have hope that the light will reemerge. They have taught me to see that the light exists despite the darkness. 

                  Depression creates a thick darkness. It can be hard to have hope when we are blanketed by this darkness. The light is there. Sometimes we cannot see it and we need help to find the light. The help we receive lets us have hope. I understand that in the darkness we feel alone. During these times it is difficult to have hope or to find others who can help us find hope. I have been trapped in that darkness. It is an awful feeling. As bad as we feel, the light is there. It may be just a speck, but if we can grasp that speck, it will expand. 

                  In the past couple of years, I have learned a lot about hope. Two years ago, I was in the depths of depression. Taking my life seemed like my only option. My mental health team provided the light. They were the hope that got me through that time. I received the treatment I needed to emerge from the darkness. Unfortunately, a new illness would cast me back into the darkness. I was diagnosed with stage 4 metastatic breast cancer. I believed I was going to die. The first oncologist I saw did nothing to help me have hope. Luckily, I found another oncologist and a nurse who instilled hope in me. They made sure I believed I could overcome the cancer and live with it. They were lights for me. As was my aunt, who lifted me into the light by caring for me and not allowing me to give up. Together my oncologist, her nurse, and my aunt were lights in the darkness of my cancer. They taught me to have hope. 

                  Hope is vital in our lives. There will always be times of darkness. That darkness will be different for each one of us. The commonality is that in the midst of the darkness, hope can bring light into our lives. Light exists in every darkness. It is just hard to see at times. If we have hope, we will see the light. That light may be another person. It may be something subtle that only we understand. No matter how it appears, hope brings light. Hope is the key to healing. I would not be here if it were not for hope. I was guided to believe there was hope I would overcome my suicidal thoughts. I was taught to have hope in my cancer battle. With hope I am still here. I am sharing my hope so that others may find the light of healing. If we have hope, we will find the light.

 

Healing Brings Light

 Healing takes much time,

But brings with it a new light.

A light that shines bright.

 

                  As I have discussed in this blog many times, writing is healing for me. Sometimes I like to challenge myself with my writing. So, I have tried my hand at haikus. The above haiku is one I wrote the other day about healing. When I wrote it I was referring to healing from depression, but I think it applies to all types of healing.

                  I have been on a lifelong journey to find healing from depression and anxiety. It has not been easy. Healing takes effort. That can pose a problem when you live with depression and anxiety. Often, these illnesses steal my ability to exert the effort necessary to heal. Losing this ability makes it difficult to heal. I want to heal, but the depression tells me not to get out of bed. At times it tells me that it is not worth fighting for healing. Depression is a darkness with a loud voice. As depression tells me I cannot heal, it shrouds me in darkness. This darkness makes it impossible for me to heal on my own. Coping strategies are rendered useless as I sink further into the darkness. 

I need to reach out for help. I have found that help in therapy, work with my psychiatrist, TMS, and esketamine. These take time to work. Each requires me to tell the darkness that I want to heal. The effort required to engage in these treatments is difficult to summon, but I know I must try. I understand that healing takes time. Depression is not going to go away overnight. It has been a part of my life for too long. I trust that the treatments will bring me into the light of healing. That light will be bright. It will comfort me and provide hope. 

One thing I learned is that depression will always be a part of my life. It is just the way my brain is wired. Despite this I can experience times of light. This healing will last for different amounts of time. When the depression seeps back in, I need to remind myself that I have seen the light of healing. I need to remember that healing is possible. It has shined before and will again. I may need help remembering, but I have a mental health team who will remind me. 

What if you don’t have a mental health provider? How can you find help remembering that light exists? Maybe you can write reminders on a Post-it note and place in a place where you will see it each day. You can keep a journal and return to the where you have written during times of healing. Another strategy might be to ask a friend or family member to remind you when they see you slipping. You can join a support group through a mental health program. NAMI offers the Connections group to allow people living with mental illness to support each other in a safe environment. 

One of the things to remember is that the work doesn’t stop when the darkness of depression or other mental illnesses lifts. We must maintain the work when we are in times of healing. This will lay the groundwork for help when the darkness returns. In essence we are building a safety net with this work. It will allow us to return to the light when we are faced with darkness. 

I know I write a lot about darkness and light. These images allow me to understand my depression. It makes sense to me. I feel the darkness of depression and I have experienced the light of healing. I hope that others suffering from mental illness find hope in my description. We all have our own understanding of our mental illness. For me darkness and light describe depression and healing. I encourage others to find the image that works for them. If my image works for you, please use it. We all need to find whatever helps us heal. 

                  

One Day at a Time

                 When you live with a mental illness such as depression, there can be days when you feel alright and days when you struggle. I have times when I am doing well. Usually, those days are thanks to treatment with TMS or esketamine. Other days can be very difficult. Is it possible to balance these days?

                  When I am doing well or even on the days when I am doing just okay, I can recognize all that I have overcome. I am aware that I am winning my battle. It is a good feeling. During these times I have hope. I wish I could bottle this feeling and pour a little out on the bad days. During the times when the depression is darkening my world it easy to believe that the struggle is all there is. It is easy to forget about all I have accomplished in my battle with depression. I need reminders that there are better times. Fortunately, I have help. I have a support system in my mental health team who remind me that the struggles do not erase the progress I have made. When the depression takes a bad turn, I am fortunate to have these reminders. 

                  It is easy to forget about the positives. Depression darkens our world and allows the negatives to scream at us. Having a self-talk dialogue ready for these times can be helpful. The dialogue should be something positive, but not overly sappy. Something like, “I have gotten through 100% of the bad days.” I have seen this message on social media. It is a good reminder that depression hasn’t taken us. Bad days happen, but we get through them. Whether it is because we have a mental health provider who guides or because we have learned coping skills to ease us through the bad times, we have succeeded in fighting our depression. 

                  I think what it comes down to is living one day at a time. There are times when it is necessary to live one moment at a time. That is okay. We need to give ourselves grace. Just because one day or one moment isn’t going well doesn’t mean that the next will be bad. I know when you live with depression, so many moments seem unbearable. So often we feel numb and alone. It hurts. It feels like life is never going to get better. While it may be difficult, life does get better. There will be good times. It is difficult to remember those good times. It is difficult to remember what we have overcome, but it is necessary to keep these times in our memories. 

                  One way I am learning to remember that the light of healing returns even when life seems its darkest is to think of the analogy to night and day. Nighttime is dark, but in the morning the sun always rises. The same can be said for depression. Even at its darkest, the light of healing will come through at some point.

Proud to Live with Mental Illness

                  Recently, I saw a social media post from For Like Minds. It said, “I am proud to be living with mental illness.” This struck me. I immediately connected with the quote. It may sound strange to say I am proud to live with mental illness. Why would I say I am proud to have an illness? The key words are “living with”. I am not anymore proud to have a mental illness than I am to have cancer, but I am proud that I am living with my illnesses.

                  Having a mental illness is not easy. Despite what many people seem to think, depression and anxiety are illnesses. Their symptoms are debilitating at times. Other times they make life difficult. Mental illness hurts. Living with mental illness is a struggle. Despite the struggle, I am living. There have been times when my mental illness has almost taken my life. Suicidal thoughts and impulses are symptoms of my depression. Mental illness is not something that I willing choose to have. When my illness is under control, I do not want to die. However, when my mental illness takes control, it forces suicidal thoughts upon me.

                  I am proud of myself for living through my suicidal thoughts and impulses. I have fought my mental illness. Luckily, for me I have health care professionals who assist me in my battle with mental illness. They have taught me how to fight back. Some of that fight was already Inside of me. I have been fighting this illness for over 37 years. Early on I fought alone. Looking back, I would like to give my teenage self a high-five for getting through all she did. My teenage self deserves a hug. I am proud of her. 

                  I am proud of adult me, too. I live with mental illness. Some days are better than others. I treasure the times when I am in a good space. The times when TMS or esketamine are working. It is during those times that my struggle is easier. It is also during those times that I can practice the skills I need to live during the times when my illness is attacking me. I have learned to use coping skills such as journaling, self-hypnosis, self-talk, listening to music, art, and walking. These allow me to live with my mental illness. Of course, these alone are not enough. Depression and anxiety are illnesses. As such, they require treatment. I take some medication, although my other treatments are what really treat my illnesses. For me TMS and esketamine fight my depression and anxiety. They do not work alone. I must do my part. That means being consistent in going to treatment. It means believing in my treatment. I also need to be honest with my mental health team. I need to let them know how I am doing. I need to share what is going on in my mind. I need to be honest and reach out when I am having suicidal thoughts. My mental healthcare providers cannot help me unless I am honest with them. I am proud of myself for being honest with them. 

                  My battle with mental illness is just as real as my battle with cancer. The only difference is one is a mental illness, and one is a physical illness. Both are serious. Both require treatment. I need to trust my healthcare providers for both illnesses. I also need to recognize these illnesses impact each other. Having two illnesses requires me to understand how they affect each other. I have lived with mental illness most of my life. For the most part, I know what to expect with it. Cancer joined the fray a year and a half ago. I have a new battle. Living with cancer affects my mental health. It adds a layer of fear to my thoughts. Another reason I am proud of living with mental illness is that it has prepared me for my cancer battle. I have learned that I can live with an illness. I have lived with depression and anxiety. So, I know I have the strength to live with illness. That knowledge has helped me face cancer. This doesn’t mean that I am not afraid of the cancer. But I have been afraid before. I have been afraid of my mental illness, and I have managed to live. Why wouldn’t I be able to live with cancer as well?

                  So, I can proudly say I live with mental illness. I can proudly say I live with cancer. I am a fighter. Some days I am going to struggle, but my fight has taught me to be proud of myself and to keep fighting.