I don't know if I'm feeling a greater range of emotion because I've stopped taking my medication or if I'm just prone to feeling at all because I've removed the highest stress-producers from my life, but I am nearly bursting with . . . happiness. I hesitated to write that. Is it really true? Am I happy? Is it that simple? I got through it? Is it over?
I've said it before, but it bears repeating. Depression is like alcoholism, in my opinion. It never really goes away. You have the risk of "relapse." The things that cause depressive episodes always reside in you and can rear their heads when you least expect it. But for the first time in a really, really, really long time, I'm optimistic that I'm past this episode. It was a year and a half of my life lost, but perhaps I have my future ahead of me again.
There are still things about me that frighten me, especially when I'm feeling hopeful, because there is so much to lose when things are better. I still, occasionally, fall asleep fighting thoughts of my professional failures. I still stumble to explain that I'm a "lawyer by training, but I'm not practicing right now." Most of the time, that feels like sugar-coating, as does the "I am so happy to be spending this time with my children," argument. I still struggle to shower on a daily basis or to bathe my kids as regularly as seems expected of me. I still get up every day and feel like I should be doing something, going to a job, contributing in some way.
I see bright spots too though. I spent an hour rolling around on the floor tickling my son this morning. That joy has to be worth something. I've been making dinner from scratch, without recipes, with things we have around the house - something that requires a creativity that I had completely lost for some time, and that I missed. Parenting, taking the hard, right road, has gotten easier. I'm engaged. I make decisions based on what is best, not what is easiest, more often than not.
This balance, this dark countered by light, is recovery for me. I'm bursting with hope, with happiness and while that is countered by caution, I'm going to turn my face toward the warmth of this optimism.
Friday, January 17, 2014
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
Fake it 'til you make it
I've heard this, or some variation of it, a lot since I started this journey. One of the hardest things about depression is that you feel awful, so you mope around and do nothing, which makes you feel more awful. Therapists, family members, supporters, and well-wishers all say the same thing...do it anyway. Get up, take a shower, get dressed, put on make-up, do your hair, have a cup of coffee, eat breakfast, even if you have no where to be. Live like nothing is different. Unfortunately, depression saps you of all motivation, so things like doing your hair and putting on make-up are simply nagging chores that you don't really have to do.
I suffer from this version of depression, especially now that I'm home. I don't really have anything to shower for, to put real clothes on for, to eat anything before noon for. I don't really have the motivation to do these things without specific consequences, which I don't have. So I try to fake it. I pretend that I have to be ready by a certain time in the morning. I consider K's bus pick up my "event" for the day and try to be together by then. It feels pathetic. Sadly, I'm still faking it. I haven't gotten better enough, yet, that I am doing these mundane things without them feeling like they're unnecessary chores.
In a very different context, though, I had a fake it 'til you make it breakthrough! Last night was my first non-family Wildtree party. While the hostess is a friend I have known most of my life, it was still my first official, not-completely-a-favor party and I was excited. One of the things I always want to do is to voice why I'm doing Wildtree. I have a juris doctor, for heaven's sake. I feel the need to explain myself. Under most circumstances, I'm pretty honest about how I landed where I am. In this group, though, and at a party that was supposed to be fun and enjoyable, I didn't think the "I had a breakdown and couldn't continue to practice" was a welcome topic of conversation. So my explanation went something like this:
I was working 50 hour weeks and no one was satisfied. I was missing out on my life, my children were missing out on me, and it still wasn't enough time to satisfy my clients. All true. So, I decided to try and go more part-time, which was actually harder. True. So I quit. I wanted to do something that gave me more time with my family because these early years will never come again. I'll never get missed moments back. As a happy side note, my kids are thriving. Where we used to have weekends, while I was able to be home, that they were maniacs and I could hardly move without them clamping onto my legs and torso, I now have days on end with them and they KNOW I'll be here, so they don't need to cling. I can actually clean my house with my two children at home.
There was laughter in all the right places, knowing looks when I spoke about how quickly childhoods pass, and a general sense of good feeling when I finished. It was then that I realized that, although I had always seen that explanation as "spun," it was all true. I focused on the positive aspects of what's happened and the whole thing felt positive. I expressed it how I wished it looked and realized that that's exactly how it looks, and I think I've made it.
I drove home last night feeling warm and happy. Proud, even. The party went well and I realized that this doesn't have to be some cautionary tale. I can enjoy this new life and not feel like it was thrust upon me. Let's even argue that it was thrust upon me, I can still like what I'm doing. I truly love being home with my kids. I really like selling Wildtree. I don't mind having left the stress of my old work behind. I'm settling in and I'm happier than I've been in a long time. I'm so thankful that I don't have to fake those feelings.
I suffer from this version of depression, especially now that I'm home. I don't really have anything to shower for, to put real clothes on for, to eat anything before noon for. I don't really have the motivation to do these things without specific consequences, which I don't have. So I try to fake it. I pretend that I have to be ready by a certain time in the morning. I consider K's bus pick up my "event" for the day and try to be together by then. It feels pathetic. Sadly, I'm still faking it. I haven't gotten better enough, yet, that I am doing these mundane things without them feeling like they're unnecessary chores.
In a very different context, though, I had a fake it 'til you make it breakthrough! Last night was my first non-family Wildtree party. While the hostess is a friend I have known most of my life, it was still my first official, not-completely-a-favor party and I was excited. One of the things I always want to do is to voice why I'm doing Wildtree. I have a juris doctor, for heaven's sake. I feel the need to explain myself. Under most circumstances, I'm pretty honest about how I landed where I am. In this group, though, and at a party that was supposed to be fun and enjoyable, I didn't think the "I had a breakdown and couldn't continue to practice" was a welcome topic of conversation. So my explanation went something like this:
I was working 50 hour weeks and no one was satisfied. I was missing out on my life, my children were missing out on me, and it still wasn't enough time to satisfy my clients. All true. So, I decided to try and go more part-time, which was actually harder. True. So I quit. I wanted to do something that gave me more time with my family because these early years will never come again. I'll never get missed moments back. As a happy side note, my kids are thriving. Where we used to have weekends, while I was able to be home, that they were maniacs and I could hardly move without them clamping onto my legs and torso, I now have days on end with them and they KNOW I'll be here, so they don't need to cling. I can actually clean my house with my two children at home.
There was laughter in all the right places, knowing looks when I spoke about how quickly childhoods pass, and a general sense of good feeling when I finished. It was then that I realized that, although I had always seen that explanation as "spun," it was all true. I focused on the positive aspects of what's happened and the whole thing felt positive. I expressed it how I wished it looked and realized that that's exactly how it looks, and I think I've made it.
I drove home last night feeling warm and happy. Proud, even. The party went well and I realized that this doesn't have to be some cautionary tale. I can enjoy this new life and not feel like it was thrust upon me. Let's even argue that it was thrust upon me, I can still like what I'm doing. I truly love being home with my kids. I really like selling Wildtree. I don't mind having left the stress of my old work behind. I'm settling in and I'm happier than I've been in a long time. I'm so thankful that I don't have to fake those feelings.
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Love me for my mind
As a young woman in college, then law school, and then again forging my solo practice in the still male-dominated field of law, I have always given special value to my mind. In fact, I gave it so much value that once I left the practice, there was little left about myself that I valued.
Today I read an article, aimed at young women, encouraging them to find someone who loved them for their minds. This article focused on mind versus physical body. Let him love you for your mind, your mental agility, your thoughts, rather than your physique.
I'm struggling with a different battle. I valued my analytical mind and I have no real need for that at present. I can still make articulate points, be wisely skeptical, and present a strong argument in favor of some position, but to what end? What does that lend to my present life spending precious time with my gentle children or selling organic food products? What is my mind's worth?
And worse, without the value of that mind, what is left? What is MY worth? It's been a difficult question for me. I am realizing, though, that what is left is the head that is lead by my heart, rather than raw intellect. I don't have to dissect complex problems to have a worthy or beautiful mind. My mind is now full of whimsical concerns like how to introduce my children new things while out in the every day world. I have room for imagination, to think about what I want my life, my space, even my expression, to look like.
Once again, I have the chance to contemplate what is joyful to me. It's a question I had long since put aside for more "important" things like being sure I could make a worthy argument. I'm thankful for my education. I will likely use it again in a more traditional sense someday. For now, though, I am grateful for a clear mind to explore what my heart and soul have to say about my life, rather than barreling through my existence because my mind was occupied by something other than living.
Today I read an article, aimed at young women, encouraging them to find someone who loved them for their minds. This article focused on mind versus physical body. Let him love you for your mind, your mental agility, your thoughts, rather than your physique.
I'm struggling with a different battle. I valued my analytical mind and I have no real need for that at present. I can still make articulate points, be wisely skeptical, and present a strong argument in favor of some position, but to what end? What does that lend to my present life spending precious time with my gentle children or selling organic food products? What is my mind's worth?
And worse, without the value of that mind, what is left? What is MY worth? It's been a difficult question for me. I am realizing, though, that what is left is the head that is lead by my heart, rather than raw intellect. I don't have to dissect complex problems to have a worthy or beautiful mind. My mind is now full of whimsical concerns like how to introduce my children new things while out in the every day world. I have room for imagination, to think about what I want my life, my space, even my expression, to look like.
Once again, I have the chance to contemplate what is joyful to me. It's a question I had long since put aside for more "important" things like being sure I could make a worthy argument. I'm thankful for my education. I will likely use it again in a more traditional sense someday. For now, though, I am grateful for a clear mind to explore what my heart and soul have to say about my life, rather than barreling through my existence because my mind was occupied by something other than living.
Saturday, January 11, 2014
Medication update
So I have been off medication for a week and a day. My thoughts are clearer. Depression creates a fog in your mind anyway, but upon adding medication to the top of that, I was losing a few hours a day to complete nothingness. I was doing things, but I had little recollection of those things, particularly as I got tired toward the end of the day. It's very hard to appreciate your life when you hardly notice what constitutes "your life."
I'm very pleased to have come to a place where I no longer need daily medication and weekly therapy. I will also say that daily therapy in the hospital, group support and medication all saved me. I might not have survived this experience but for the people and the advice they shared with me. I am grateful that medications exist and I will rethink my strict "no medication" policy as I move forward in my life. With that said, I am glad to be free of the altered state that, although not dramatic, was always what I had feared about taking medication for the depression I've battled throughout my short life.
I'm mostly feeling thankful for my life, for my family, for my friends who are family, and for this clarity that has allowed those things to come back to the forefront of my recognition. The decent into deep depression took me months, almost a year.. The rebirth from that place has taken months as well, but looking back on those dark days and these brighter ones, I am happy to be where I sit today.
I'm very pleased to have come to a place where I no longer need daily medication and weekly therapy. I will also say that daily therapy in the hospital, group support and medication all saved me. I might not have survived this experience but for the people and the advice they shared with me. I am grateful that medications exist and I will rethink my strict "no medication" policy as I move forward in my life. With that said, I am glad to be free of the altered state that, although not dramatic, was always what I had feared about taking medication for the depression I've battled throughout my short life.
I'm mostly feeling thankful for my life, for my family, for my friends who are family, and for this clarity that has allowed those things to come back to the forefront of my recognition. The decent into deep depression took me months, almost a year.. The rebirth from that place has taken months as well, but looking back on those dark days and these brighter ones, I am happy to be where I sit today.
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
Mantra
“Courage does not always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, 'I will try again tomorrow.'” - Mary Anne Radmacher
The days keep coming, I keep getting up and sometimes that feels courageous enough.
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
Disappointment
It's been a while since I've delved into my thoughts to determine HOW I was feeling. This is a recurring theme for me, unfortunately. I have a tendency to move through life without thinking. On the one hand, it makes dealing with life's emotional experiences more palatable when they are bad. On the other hand, I miss some of the most beautiful moments because I'm not in the moment. In either event, it isn't how I want to live my life.
Today, I met with a new therapist. My old therapist, whom I loved, recently went on maternity leave and isn't coming back. While I think it will be beneficial to have new eyes on a situation that has grown stale to me, trying to explain the last year of my life is nearly impossible. I tried. I gave some of the "highlights." I explained why I've ceased taking my medication and why I am still seeking talk therapy. I talked about how I ended up in Rogers and why I don't feel like I'm all the way better. And I surprised myself.
When talking about leaving my practice, what I want for my future and what I do see as positive in myself, I was surprised and disappointed to find that it is still raw...like, can't keep myself together in front of a total stranger, raw. It occurred to me that I haven't cried since I last saw my previous therapist. Although I think about it in terms of logistics regularly, I haven't come to terms with my realities yet.
I am disappointed to see where I really am when I actually think about it. I don't think about it. It's sort of my MO. I keep moving, but I'm not moving forward. I thrash in the water, but I'm not approaching the shore. I experience disappointment, frustration, anxiety, sadness, and emptiness, but those emotions bring me no closer to resolving all of the bad things I'm feeling. What's the point?
I'm pleased to be med-free and working toward a better tomorrow. I am sad to realize how little I recognized about how much disappointment I am still feeling. But tomorrow will come and I will still be here.
Today, I met with a new therapist. My old therapist, whom I loved, recently went on maternity leave and isn't coming back. While I think it will be beneficial to have new eyes on a situation that has grown stale to me, trying to explain the last year of my life is nearly impossible. I tried. I gave some of the "highlights." I explained why I've ceased taking my medication and why I am still seeking talk therapy. I talked about how I ended up in Rogers and why I don't feel like I'm all the way better. And I surprised myself.
When talking about leaving my practice, what I want for my future and what I do see as positive in myself, I was surprised and disappointed to find that it is still raw...like, can't keep myself together in front of a total stranger, raw. It occurred to me that I haven't cried since I last saw my previous therapist. Although I think about it in terms of logistics regularly, I haven't come to terms with my realities yet.
I am disappointed to see where I really am when I actually think about it. I don't think about it. It's sort of my MO. I keep moving, but I'm not moving forward. I thrash in the water, but I'm not approaching the shore. I experience disappointment, frustration, anxiety, sadness, and emptiness, but those emotions bring me no closer to resolving all of the bad things I'm feeling. What's the point?
I'm pleased to be med-free and working toward a better tomorrow. I am sad to realize how little I recognized about how much disappointment I am still feeling. But tomorrow will come and I will still be here.
Friday, January 3, 2014
Winter
Lots of people out there suffer from Season Affective Disorder, aptly referred to as SAD. Not this kid. This weekend, I embark on an adventure in loving even this season's outdoors. My husband and I and our two crazy friends will spend the next three days camping in the frigid Wisconsin winter. When I say frigid, I mean it. The lows will be fairly well below zero, with Sunday's high topping out at a whopping zero.
Why does this information belong in this blog, of all places? Nature soothes me. It always has. There's no place I feel more alive and more myself than quiet and in the forest. I love running water. I love fallen trees. I love the silence of the woods in winter.
I'm starting a new path too, today. I am slowly going to stop taking my medication. While it has proved helpful to get me through the worst of all of this, I have never liked the idea of it. Medication alters my body in a way that I am not comfortable, chemically supplementing what I should be getting from my food, lifestyle and mindset. So, while I will be cold, I will be exploring, feeling alive and embarking on the next step in this journey toward wellness.
Why does this information belong in this blog, of all places? Nature soothes me. It always has. There's no place I feel more alive and more myself than quiet and in the forest. I love running water. I love fallen trees. I love the silence of the woods in winter.
I'm starting a new path too, today. I am slowly going to stop taking my medication. While it has proved helpful to get me through the worst of all of this, I have never liked the idea of it. Medication alters my body in a way that I am not comfortable, chemically supplementing what I should be getting from my food, lifestyle and mindset. So, while I will be cold, I will be exploring, feeling alive and embarking on the next step in this journey toward wellness.
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