The Way I Am...

Another year has come and gone...

2016-04-21T16:56:00.000-06:00

I've been quite lazy when it comes to posting on the blog. I use up all my words and brain power writing discussion posts and papers for grad school, so by the time I'm done I feel like curling up and ~~crying~~ crafting. My latest obsession, and another reason why I haven't written is that I've fallen in love. With coloring. I know, it's supposed to be for kids, right? But it actually has done me sooooo much good! I got hooked upon learning about Johanna Basford's books. She has two new ones coming out this year - one is a Magical Jungle book and the other is a Christmas book. You may not hear from me until 2020 or so. It really helps me relax and simmer down before bed. I've also gotten very excited about learning coloring techniques. I've done lots of crafting in my time, but never much with drawing or coloring because I thought I was terrible. But then the Internet arrived, along with instructional videos of every kind, and ta-da! I became an artist (at least, in my own mind, and in Pip's).

So when I'm not coloring, I'm studying. I'm about halfway through my Masters in Clinical Mental Health Counseling. I love the content of the courses, but I'm dreading having to grow outside of my comfort zone and be the counselor someday. Does that make ANY sense? I know it will be the right fit if I ever get over my insecurity. My internship should be in Summer and Fall of 2017. Then I will graduate! Whew. I really hope to settle into a practice that is very general to meet the diverse needs of clients in WY. We have such high suicide rates here, and I truly believe that every little bit of intervention helps prevent suicide and help people live fuller lives. I also really hope to get back to leading support groups and to start some psychotherapy groups for people with mood disorders. In August I will attend my second Residency for a week in Dallas, where I will put my group counseling skills to work during practice sessions.

Nothing is really new with either of these two. They just sleep a lot. Pip always wants to be in my lap, which is difficult when there's already a textbook there (and sometimes, if we're being honest, a bowl of popcorn). They think they are the neighborhood watch for our street. They also think it is their job to growl endlessly at the chihuahua across the street (whose name we are uncertain of, but believe it to be either Taco, Nacho, or Diego, any of which are entirely appropriate for a tiny dog of Mexican descent).

Kyle is doing well, and we are planning a vacation to Mt. St. Helens and Oregon in mid-September. We are both incredibly excited about the adventure. I can't wait to see the ocean and tide-pools. I also can't wait to see my fifth grade teacher (who is super, wonderful, amazing, caring, supportive times a trillion, and one of the main reasons I love books and writing so much). I also get to see my beloved Aunt Loretta. It should be the perfect road trip.

Oh, speaking of road trip, have you seen this ad?

Well, that's pretty much Kyle and me when we are driving. Kyle likes to take us on, as he calls, "bonus treks" or "scenic detours". Meanwhile, I have the map in hand and two map apps, but somehow we end up going miles out of the way because he has a "sense" of where we need to go. But hey, if it means spending more time with him listening to my road trip playlist, I'm all for it.

Last year we went on a spectacular hot air balloon ride (Kyle's Bucket List) and we didn't die (my bucket list). We also spent an amazing weekend in Denver for my birthday where I got to see The Book of Mormon, which was one of the most irreverent, hilarious, and ~~slightly~~ shocking things I will ever see. It was SUCH an spectacular show.

So far this year I have witnessed my beloved Peyton win the Super Bowl and then retire. I joined a secret society (which I would LOVE to tell you about, but unfortunately, it's a secret). I saw a former US President give a speech. Sadly, I did not achieve the apparently impossible task of obtaining Adele tickets for her Denver concert, but I'm assured that there are many others like me. Also, I'm still waiting for G. Clooney's marriage proposal, but I think he has some unfinished business elsewhere to attend to before he pops the question and gives me a ring.

So, that about wraps it up. Hope you all are doing super. Drop me a Facebook note or email. I would love to hear from you. :)

Anniversaries...

2015-05-31T19:06:00.002-06:00

Time has just been breezing by and I wish I could get it to stop for a moment or two so it wouldn't feel like life is on fast-forward all the time. However, so many important milestones are popping up here and there and they help me feel like life is on the right track. It's a terrific feeling!

This time of year holds two important anniversaries for me. First, and most importantly, the anniversary of my wedding day. I am blown away that the 3rd of June marks our 9th year of marriage, and our tenth year of knowing one another. Nine years ago I was finishing up my Literature degree and moving back to WY to marry my best friend. Such a happy and sad time. I hated leaving the life I had built in Nebraska, but I loved coming home. Kyle and I are going to go on a sunrise hot air balloon ride this coming weekend in Boulder, CO. I am so excited! And I hope we live through it so we can celebrate #10 next year. :)

The other anniversary is not so happy, but still gives me good reason to reflect on how far I've come. Two years ago I was in a hospital with severe memory and cognitive issues. I didn't know why I was there. I was scared and confused. I lost my independence in many ways. I was at a very low point, and didn't see my future or any potential for it. My identity was shattered, and I became a different person in many ways.

Fast forward two years. I just finished the second quarter of my graduate program for counseling. While I already have a Masters, it's much more gratifying this time around than the first time. That is mostly because I am having to work much harder for it. But it's worth it! Most significantly, I made the trip this past week to my first Residency, and I went all by myself. I was so intimidated about the travel involved and the interaction this Residency would require. I did myself proud, though. I reached out to people. I emerged from my introverted shell to interact. I got from WY to GA and back with no mishaps (although when the Southwest airline said "Welcome to Mexico" accidentally upon our landing, I must admit I had a few moments of panic. Fortunately, they were just tired and confused, not me!) I forced myself to explore a little bit of the city instead of holing up in my hotel. I just kept telling myself, "I'm here, now I might as well take advantage of this opportunity. And if I screw up, I get to go back home and no one will ever know it happened!" I think I did all right, though.

I loved being in a new place and in the South. I'd never been down there before. I loved hearing the languages, seeing new sites, and visiting with people from all over the world. I loved the Coca-Cola. I loved the excitement and passion of others in my Counseling program. I did not especially love the humidity, nor did I have any idea what approximately half of the menu items were most of the time. Google and I spent a great deal of time together trying to figure out what in Sam Hill I was eating. They know how to make a mean dumpling down there, though! I also started picking up the drawl, and I now say I am "fahn" instead of "fine". Luckily I still had "ya'll" in my vocabulary from when I spent six weeks in Texas a few years ago, so I was somewhat prepared to talk their language.

It was a wonderful experience and gave me a much needed boost at a critical time. I continue to surprise myself, and that is part of the excitement of being alive. I made new friends and pushed my own boundaries. I realized that I'm just as strong (and maybe even stronger!) than I was "before" the hellish year of 2013. I realized how much I love sharing my life experiences with Kyle not because I can't do it without him, but because it makes it so much better to have someone to share the ride with.

My Office Makeover..

2015-04-11T12:24:00.001-06:00

I never posted pictures of my office redo. I thought I could redo my office in the week before I started a new quarter of school. It actually took about three to four weeks, but here's the transformation and all it entailed. (And it was totally, totally worth it!!!)

Before the transformation began. Purple painted over wallpaper on the walls. Ugly office grade blue carpet on the floor. A catch-all for random items.

I began by removing strips of the purple wallpaper.

After getting all that wallpaper down, I spent what felt like about 40 days and 40 nights (actually about 2 days) spraying the walls with vinegar and water. The thin paper that was left pasted to the wall came off in tiny pieces. Excruciatingly tiny pieces. Then, there was a paste left on the wall, so I scrubbed with more vinegar and Dawn dish soap. By this point I was hating myself for starting this project and I was only 2 days into several weeks worth of fun. What was I thinking?

So fast forward several days or a week or so. I spackle, I sand. I spackle, I sand. I finally get the new color on the walls - a color I LOVE - Benjamin Moore's Coventry Gray. It's the same color that's in my living room, and with white trim it looks just lovely! I put two coats on.

Then I prayed to the remodel gods that when I pulled up that detested blue/gray carpet there would be decent wood floor underneath. And there was decent wood floors underneath, but the carpet had been glued to it, and before that the wood floors had been sprayed with white paint.

I pulled up the tack strips along the wall, which was easy, but there were also these heavy duty staples pushed into the wood floor that were monsters to get out. Don't look too closely because there might be one or five left in the floor that I just couldn't get out. Then I scraped paint and glue off the floor, then scrubbed and scrubbed with Murphy's Oil Soap. That is an amazing little potion!

Another 40 days and 40 nights later (it seemed) I was seeing vast improvement. But! What you can't really see in these pictures, but was obvious when in the room, was that there was a big gap between the baseboard and the floor where the carpet used to be. What to do? Take the baseboard off and move it down? But then the gray wouldn't go far enough down and I'd have to paint that in. Kyle suggested using quarter round, which some professional contractors see as cheating but I saw as life saving. I picked some up at Lowe's, as well as a miter box and saw. I had never cut pieces to fit into corners before, so it was a tiny learning curve but I picked it up quick, and I even kept all my fingers! So after cutting came nailing, caulking, and painting. I put frog tape on the floor to protect the clean floor from getting paint on it since I was so close to the floor when painting.

Then I used a polyurethane coating and coated the floors to make them nice and shiny. It took three coats with 24 hours in between coats. And you need a LOT of moving air to get that smell out of the house. I think Pip, Dobby and I were high for a few days.

And after that my knees looked like this. (Ignore the goosebumps. It was cold.)

Then I had to wait 7 days to put furniture or carpets on the floor. Seven days!!! You should have seen my living room with all the contents of my office stuffed into it. It was a catastrophe. In the meantime, I went area rug shopping. I knew I wanted something squishy for my feet and something pretty. Target never lets me down.

And since I hadn't spent enough time on this project already, I decided I wanted to do something really interesting on the wall with some Penguin postcards I had. I'd gotten an idea on Pinterest from this post http://littlehousedesign.com/diy-postcard-wall-art/

But what I didn't realize when I started this little endeavor, was that a project like that takes math. I don't do math. I can balance my checkbook, but there's limits to what I can achieve. Never fear, my sister-in-law Penny rescued me. She helped me convert, and figure, and before I knew it I had a tape outline.

I'm a little obsessive compulsive (seriously), and so I spent hours debating how many of the cards to use. The box had 100. I wanted to offset them, so I decided I would use 98. But then which two to leave out? I finally found two that I didn't like. But, how to organize them? Oh, the agony of decisions. I set to work, but good, grief! Not only did I have to measure above and below each one but beside! And then I had to put 98 of them on the wall, one at a time! What was I thinking?!? (Notice how I ask myself this question quite often?) Pandora and I hung out for the afternoon and we had it done in a few hours. And it was all worth it!

I moved bookshelves and my desk and my chair back into my office.

All my craft bins, organized by type of project, went into the closet area. I currently have the doors removed because it made it much easier to access my supplies. I don't like the sliding doors that were originally in there. Eventually I will put bifold doors on the closet, but for now I've spent my budget on the redo, so it's just going to remain open for the time being. I put a tiny bit of my hedgie collection on the top shelf of the bookshelf. I have many, many more, but I have to figure out a better way to display them.

And my little angel on the door reminding me to "Dwell in Possibility". (Thanks, Maggie!)

So now I have a beautiful and cozy place to study, to Skype for my mock counseling practice sessions, and to craft when I can't sleep in the wee hours of the morning. I am really loving it so far. It was worth the headaches, the chaos of the contents of two rooms in one for four weeks, the fumes from polyurethane and paint, and the blisters, calluses and bruises. It made me feel so good to do this project from start to finish with no help other than a few suggestions from Kyle when I was stumped about where to go next. It makes me want to redo other rooms in my house. Sort of.

Some Thoughts on Shapewear...

2015-02-12T01:16:00.001-07:00

I attended the lovely wedding of some friends this past weekend. I watched as they pledged devotion to one another and shared their vows. Bread was broken and rings exchanged. I thought of the beauty of their commitment to one another, and reflected on the similar commitment Kyle and I made to one another almost nine years ago. But what I was mostly focused on was...how bloody uncomfortable my shape-wear made me. I considered how much I dislike the idea of all those confining garments women have used throughout history, and the irony in the fact that I also use confining garments to feel more stylish and acceptable.

I'm familiar with a basic history of corsets, also known as "stays". Women have worn them for hundreds of years to shape their bodies into fashionable form. Corsets were generally worn as undergarments, but were often elaborately embellished. Many materials, including ivory, steel, horn, and whalebone have been used to produce their desired slimming effects. They reached the height of popularity in the Victorian era, but started their decline just before World War I. Corsets were one of many items given up during the war to free up metals and materials for the war effort. There is some debate as to how harmful these garments were to women's health, especially during the Victorian era when tight lacing was the trend.

The image that always comes to mind when I think of corsets is the scene in Gone with the Wind when Scarlet wants to entice Ashley at the barbecue, and insists that Mammy lace her as tightly as possible into her corset so that she can get her waist down to a tiny 17 inches. I've always scoffed at the idea of such an experience. Who wants to be that uncomfortable at a barbecue? Will a guy really notice that extra inch or two on a gal's waist? And if he does, what does that imply, exactly? Health hazards aside, the idea of cinching a woman into a garment merely for attractiveness is repugnant to me.

And yet, I do it, too.

I've struggled with my weight for about 22 years. In that time I have tried any number of methods for appearing slimmer, at nearly any cost. I've subscribed to the notion that beauty is painful. I've spent too much money on garments promising to slim, smooth and flatten. Most of them have not succeeded in fulfilling their guarantees, and those that do result in shallow breathing, lots of skin indentations from elastic, heartburn, nausea, and overheating, just to name a few of the effects they have. In a particularly embarrassing admission, I even used duct tape in middle school to try to "tape down" the excess pounds. Unfortunately, there are some jobs that are too unmanageable even for duct tape. I underwent weight loss surgery, partly for health reasons, but partly so that I would fit into a more socially acceptable weight range. While the surgery went well, recovery consisted of battling a wound infection that took months to heal and left a permanent scar. Just one more example of beauty being painful.

I'm not my ideal weight, and I struggle with that every time I look in a mirror or buy clothes. However, I am starting to see the ridiculousness of an existence of discomfort for the sake of appearance. While I can't promise that I'll ditch the Tummy Tanks and Spanx right away, I am starting to evaluate their worth and how much they might be costing me despite the peace of mind they offer that I'm smoother, an inch or two thinner, more acceptable and therefore more worthy.

I don't want to miss the beauty, fun and poignancy of moments such as the wedding this weekend just to feel adequate. When I am an old woman reflecting back on my life, I doubt I'll remember the importance of shapewear. But I will regret the moments I missed out on when I was focused on the wrong priority.

Being Grateful...

2014-11-18T16:13:00.001-07:00

Lots of change is happening for me lately and most of it is very positive. That doesn’t mean it isn’t difficult, though! The biggest change for me has been going back to school. A year ago, I wouldn’t have dreamed of being in school again. I couldn’t read a book for fun, let alone comprehend big picture concepts from a complicated text. Now I’ve completed the first quarter of my Clinical Mental Health Counseling degree program, and I did very well. Much better than I had hoped! I was so worried and didn’t think I could do it, but I did. It feels really amazing to accomplish what’s important, but even more so when it’s something that I feared was unattainable. I was so worried about what it would mean if I couldn’t do this. I am very grateful that I didn’t have to confront that.

Sometimes when life goes really well, I worry more about it unraveling than I do when it actually starts to turn bad. Part of me knows that is a waste of time, and that I’m ruining the good with the “what ifs”, but it’s hard not to do it. Right now everything seems to be going in the right direction. I’m excited about my courses that start December 1^st. I’m looking forward to the holidays, which was not the case last year. Kyle and I have a vacation planned in January and are excited about getting away together. My mood disorder seems to be fairly well managed and my medications are being tweaked with only minor adjustments rather than broad changes.

I recently had a conversation with someone about how measuring my current success is all relative to remembering where I was last year. I find it hard to describe how difficult 2013 was for Kyle and me, and my mind is not yet where I want it to be. I would love to see even more improvement in my moods, and I would especially love to see some improvement in my memory and cognitive functioning. However, relative to where I was in 2013, when I was hospitalized four times, had a delusional episode, had a car accident that totaled my car, lost my driver’s license, could not answer simple questions such as “who is the president?”, and had up to thrice weekly ECT treatments, 2014 has been a lot brighter! It’s a bit of a cliché, but I’ve come a long way! I really have. And to bemoan the fact that I’m not where I would like to be would rob me of the gratitude I have for how far I have come.

Being back in school and learning, and being able to apply that knowledge, is my greatest achievement. Knowing who the President is comes close, though. Getting my driver’s license back was essential in feeling capable and independent again, and it’s been freeing (but a bit nerve-wracking!) to be behind the wheel again. Being a partner to my husband again, instead of someone who is more of a child who needs to be taken care of, has also been helpful in reviving my sense of purpose and lifting my depression.

I have more work ahead, especially in the area of reestablishing an identity after the loss of mine last year. I’m starting to rebuild it, though, and discovering that some of the passions I had before remain important to me. That comforts me and leads me to believe that I don’t have to completely reinvent myself. It will just take some work to reestablish who I am and who I have become in light of the events of the last few years.

Happiness...

2014-08-13T04:43:00.000-06:00

I noted in my journal the other day that I was happy to be alive. I can't tell you the last time I actually felt happiness. I've spent the better part of more than two years merely existing and wondering what it's all for. Don't get me wrong. I have a great deal to be grateful for, and I am aware of it and appreciative of it. But knowing something in your head and feeling it in one's heart are entirely different matters.

The funny thing about happiness is I always think it's right around the bend. When I get to high school I'll be happy. When I graduate high school and get to the freedom of college I'll be happy. When I can just graduate from college and not have the constant financial concerns and demands on my mind I'll be happy. When and if... those two words can deceive me and keep me from realizing that happiness occurs in moments, not in wide spans of time. Just like I'm not always sad, not always mad, I will not always be happy. And I miss out on happiness by constantly waiting for it to arrive.

It's funny when I look back across my life and realize what were true times of happiness. The happiest time in my life was when I was an undergraduate and finally found a home in my college's English department studying Literature and Humanities, and moved into my first apartment by myself. I absolutely loved my studies, interaction with professors and time spent learning with other students. Having my own place to live was a tremendous boost to this introvert. But that period of time was also my toughest, because I was having trouble balancing life with anxiety and mood disorders that were untreated and undiagnosed along with working and paying for the expenses of living and being a student. Isn't it ironic that the best and worst experiences can coincide right there and run parallel to one another giving an impression of that period of time in one's life which might not be accurate.

And then in the last year of my undergraduate studies I met the man that I would marry. A relationship of that importance was totally unexpected and made me deeply happy. I sensed that I was accepted for and loved for who I was and that I could be myself - something that I wasn't accustomed to feeling. The moments of pure elation were also mixed in with the stresses of a last year of school and living four hours apart and planning our relatively simple wedding, then moving me, and then discovering how to live well with this other person. Again, my months of happiness were actually made up of moments squeezed in between the normal stressors that someone would encounter in that situation.

“Nothing in the world is worth having or worth doing unless it means effort, pain, difficulty… I have never in my life envied a human being who led an easy life. I have envied a great many people who led difficult lives and led them well.” This quote is attributed on GoodReads.com to Theodore Roosevelt. I find much wisdom in these words, but again, knowing something and practicing it are entirely different matters. The things that have really mattered to me - my education, my marriage, my family - are not always easy to take care of, and are not effortless, but they lead to a life that I am more proud of and value more.

In my work to figure out who I am and what matters to me, I can look back on a variety of happy memories, and some I have had to have Kyle relive for me because I can't remember them. I no longer remember my wedding day, but I can see in the pictures of that a day that I was genuinely happy. I wasn't just putting on a mask of being ok. I completely basked in the joy I felt that day. Just a month earlier I graduated with my Bachelors degree that I had worked so hard for. That was a moment of true joy and happiness as well. Again, a picture tells me that my happiness was felt in my heart.

Learning to feel has been a challenge to me over the course of my treatment for depression and anxiety. It's very tempting to want to block out feelings that are unhappy, uncomfortable and that make me uneasy. But, as I've learned over time and through reading the research of Dr. Brene Brown, we can't block out the bad without blocking out the good, too. I find this incredibly true of myself. I get irritated because I get so apathetic about everything from going to see a friend, the holidays or even bigger events. I'm alive enough to go through the motions, but I'm not really living in these moments. Without memories, experiences and moments that are felt, life can be quite empty.

Of course, Mr. Robin Williams is on almost everyone's minds this week as we learn that he hanged himself and had been suffering severe depression. A common refrain is, "Why would he kill himself? He had so much to live for!" I can't pretend to understand the depression that others experience. I don't even understand my own a great deal of the time. But I do see how the happiness and joy of life can be buried by the sadness and pain and the way it can become possible to feel that it will never go away again, or to even care if it will. Williams' death has given me and many others a moment to reflect on our lives and what they mean. He gives us an opportunity to ask what it's all for. And if the answer is nothing, then it's an indicator that assistance is needed and a better way of living is necessary to keep from going down that same path.

I have a necklace that I used to wear quite frequently. It simply says "Hope". I wore it as a constant reminder that there is always hope to be had. But in 2013 I stopped wearing it. I felt incredibly hopeless, especially once my treatments didn't show the promise they once held. Everything was bleak, and nothing held meaning. "I don't care" was a standard answer to most questions about what I wanted to do, eat or see. Nothing mattered. Hope had faded along with the silver lining. I'm beginning to think, after registering for classes last week, that it's time to start wearing the "Hope" necklace again.

Lately, life looks brighter, and not just metaphorically. For me, my world literally gets lighter when I am in a better place and dimmer when I'm in a worse place. Right now it is brighter, and I am taking note of the moments of happiness and realizing that IS happiness. It's not a precursor to it. That is it! I grab onto it. Maybe I write it down in my journal or snap a shot and share it with friends on Facebook hoping to spread joy to them, as well. And happiness doesn't have to be anything big.

Saturday was a wonderful day for me. There was nothing special about it. Kyle and I did a little grocery shopping, which I actually hate to do, but it was nice to spend the time together. Then Kyle mowed the lawn and I got a few things done in the house. He decided not to go into the office that day and would instead go Sunday. And so randomly I suggested we play Trivial Pursuit. Since we have a smidge of an age difference, (only 19 years), we sparred over whether we would play the 80s version that he would be more familiar with or the 90s version that would be better for me. We finally decided to play both and have a sort of tournament. In the end he won the 80s and I won the 90s. We had a great time laughing about pieces of culture, history and movies we had completely forgotten, and it helped remind me of some of those same things that I had forgotten due to treatments. We ribbed each other for not knowing answers, too. We played for hours and it was delightful.

As we got into bed that night I said to him, "I'm really happy tonight. That was a lot of fun." I don't even know the last time I truly felt anything that much. I took it as a good sign, but a little terrifying, too. If you feel one feeling, then you have to feel them all when they occur. But part of this is knowing I have the ability to handle things well and with some skills I've been learning. I could get anxious and spend hours thinking about what it means and whether a really good day means I'm starting to feel too good and maybe swinging to the high side of the disorder. But maybe after a really crummy couple of years, a one really good day feels over the top good. I think I'm just going to take it for what it is - a terrific day of spending time with a husband with whom I share many interests and who loves me as much as I love him. That is happiness. And it's enough to get me through the rough spots to the next patch of happiness and joy.

*I apologize if this has any grammar or spelling issues. Writing at 4am when I can't sleep can be hard on my writing skills. :)

Putting "Courage Before Comfort" to the Test...Also Known As, I'm a Student Again!

2014-08-04T14:26:00.000-06:00

I haven't been doing a good job of posting very often, but you might remember my post before last that talked about putting courage before comfort. It's a terrific theory, but putting it into practice is a whole different matter! I've had a couple of opportunities to try it out this summer, though. I had a total hysterectomy in July - although that would more aptly be called "courage before discomfort". But it came with an added benefit: I couldn't do anything but sit around watching TV and reading for many days, which gave me a tremendous amount of time to think. About life. About direction. About purpose. You know, the little things.

July 8 made it a year since I decided to stop ECT treatments. It has been a year of relief, grief, sadness, madness and just about any mixture of feelings you can imagine. I had given myself a year to work through the many emotions that came after the deep depression that lasted well over a year, the loss of memories and cognitive functioning that resulted from the unsuccessful treatments, and then the aftermath. Part of that year was waiting to see what and how much would return. Would the lost memories come back? Would I regain the level of functioning I had before? Some did return. Much did not. I now think of life "Before ECT" and "After ECT". Kyle and I agree I am about 75% of who I was before. Some days I am very grateful I am recovered to that degree. Other days I am still angry and bitter about not being 100% who I was. As much as I would love to just box up the past 18 months and put them on a shelf somewhere, it's not possible. And while I have come a long way, there is still progress to be made.

However. A point has arrived where I must either stay stuck or make a move. I could stay stuck indefinitely, because even though it mostly stinks, there is a level of comfort in knowing where I am at and what to expect from each day. But that's not stimulating to me, and it's not conducive to good health. So I knew I had to take some action, in some direction. So I've made the decision to go back to school. Again.

I received my Masters in Education a few years ago, but I quickly saw that working in the school system was not a good fit for me. I love teaching and interacting with students. I dislike the paperwork, meetings, and the mounds of senseless time-wasting that goes along with the teaching profession and takes me away from students. I also lost a lot of my knowledge gained from my Masters program. Terminology and other important education are gone. Maybe they will return. I don't know. But I feel I am at a disadvantage to work in education with the missing puzzle pieces, and I certainly don't want to deprive students of the teacher they deserve.

I've had an interest in psychology and mental health counseling long before I became a mental health consumer. I ignored it for some reason, but it's been nudging me more and more lately. I have found an online program I have a great deal of confidence in, and now I just need confidence in myself and my abilities. School has always been a strength of mine, and now I am fearful that I won't be able to perform at my previous level. But I have to try. I have been accepted for admission and I am registered to start classes on September 2nd. I will be working on a Masters in Mental Health Counseling. I'm very excited and terrified at the same time. I look forward to building a new foundation, a new career path, and an opportunity to prove to myself that I can do whatever I set my mind to. I'm definitely putting "courage before comfort", and while it's daunting it's also really amazing how wonderful challenging myself can be.

It's all I can do not to race out and buy new notebooks, pens and post-it notes. I am anxious because this program uses APA and I'm used to MLA. I've logged into my new student email account half a million times since I got it last week. I'm making notes everywhere to remind myself of what I need to do before Sept. 2nd. It's all good, though. I have focus, I have direction, and I have an end goal in sight. And that feels really amazing.

What I Didn't Know About Losing Your Memory...

2014-05-09T15:35:00.001-06:00

When I signed on for ECT last year, I knew I would risk losing memory, but I didn't really think through what that might mean. I assumed it meant I would lose bits and pieces, here and there, good and bad remembrances of the past. And it did mean that. It also meant I wouldn't be able to remember simple processes, procedure and aspects of life that previously I took for granted.

Today I went grocery shopping by myself. While this seems a very mundane and routine task, a year ago I wasn't able to do this. I wasn't permitted to drive, and I wouldn't have been able to negotiate the store even if I could have made it there. Who knew grocery shopping could be so darn overwhelming? I never stopped to think about how many times I rely on memory when in the grocery store. The layout of the store is the biggest obstacle. If you have no memory of how the store is laid out, and what is paired with what, it gets really confusing and daunting, not to mention time consuming as you are constantly retracing your steps. It is so strange to stand in a place that is familiar yet foreign, but I've experienced this many times since my memory became so deeply affected last year.

We've all been in a grocery store countless times, and shopping becomes almost automatic when we've done it so routinely. But last year stores became bewildering. I would stand there trying to decide where to start and not knowing where anything was located. I couldn't remember the pin for my debit cards. This is still a challenge. Cashiers would have to prompt me every step of the way through the checkout process. The automatic knowing of what comes next during checkout disappeared. Suddenly I was a blank slate and had to be walked through anything with more than one step the way you would guide a small child.

I didn't know how to use things. I didn't know how to follow directions. I forgot the names of people in my real life and celebrities I've admired for years. I forgot major events. I couldn't remember where I was when 9/11 happened. I didn't remember movies I'd seen, or books I'd read. I jokingly said I was glad my degrees couldn't be taken like my license had been, but it really wasn't a humorous subject for me. My education was my prized possession, and it was infuriating and frustrating to remember so little of what I had studied.

My connection and sense of belonging suffered because I didn't have the memories to make associations anymore. I didn't remember most of my wedding day or any of our honeymoon trip. I don't remember my graduation day from college. And while it's sad not to remember specific events, I've found it far more difficult to deal with the day to day functions that are impacted when one can't rely on memory.

My understanding of the world at large changed. I don't easily remember where other countries are, or how they relate to one another. I probably couldn't correctly identify all 50 states on the US map. I sometimes am unsure why we're on unfriendly terms with some countries and allies with others.

It was embarrassing, and still can be, to be unable to answer simple questions. "What medications are you on?" Uh...I'm not sure. "What brand of dog food do you use?" No idea. "Have you ever been to...?" Can't say for sure. I can't tell you how many times I've heard "Don't you remember?" No. I do not.

I lost the continuity of life and the pattern of day to day. I had no routines, because I didn't remember what they were. I stopped doing many basic activities, such as cleaning, because it seemed complicated. I didn't know how to do those things anymore. What was once a natural process of grabbing the cleaning products, scrubbing, brushing, sweeping and mopping now seemed complex and unfamiliar. I didn't know what step came first and what came last and because it was all so overwhelming I just withdrew completely.

Fortunately, my memory is improving, be it a little too slow for my liking. I am on a medication that is generally used for Alzheimer's patients, and it does seem to be helping. Memories of events haven't returned much, but my ability to figure out "how-to" is. Most of the tasks I am relearning tend to stick, or at least become more familiar and I am becoming more at ease with doing activities and tasks on my own. Getting my driver's license back was a huge aid to my sense of independence and has allowed me to become more confident in going to appointments and running errands on my own. I am reestablishing patterns and routines that give me much peace and reduce my anxiety by creating a sense of stability and familiarity.

I never thought about how much our sense of who we are in the world is connected to memory. I never thought about how our memory contributes to how well we navigate life. I have much more compassion and understanding of what loss of memory really entails than I did before last year. I hope strides in medicine and science can make progress in understanding memory loss and how to help those who struggle with it.

Courage Before Comfort...

2014-05-02T13:03:00.002-06:00

What is courageous is a matter of perception that is based on any number of varying aspects including culture, age and life events. Perception is a funny concept. And by funny I mean odd, not humorous. Have you ever listened to someone talk about how messed up they are or how they screwed something up and how down on themselves they are for it, and all the while you are thinking about how cool it is that they even put forth the effort in the first place? Our varying perceptions make life interesting, and it's one of the many reasons I have long loved literature. Every reader perceives differently, as does every listener. Perception gives us variety. It exposes us to new ideas and allows us to see what we were blind to otherwise. But our own perceptions can really become far from the truth. That's when it gets tricky.

I've been taking an e-course about finding the gifts of our imperfections, based on Brene Brown's book "The Gifts of Imperfection". This book speaks to me through and through because I am a major perfectionist and I am always criticizing myself for falling short. I usually fail to give much credit to having tried in the first place. If I was made Vice President of the US, I wouldn't celebrate my success, but rather criticize myself for not having done enough to become President. One person might see the VP position as an awesome accomplishment. Others would see it as second-best and clearly not as good enough. Perception.

I have fallen into a bad habit of being so concerned with falling short that I don't even make the attempt in the first place. Instead of celebrating baby steps and benchmarks I am often looking to what could be done better. It becomes so uncomfortable for me to try experiences for fear of failing that I withdraw from life altogether. And then disconnection rears its ugly head and causes a whole new set of problems.

One assignment for this class I am taking was to come up with our personal mantra - something to guide us in our quest to become less perfectionistic. I blatantly stole the author's mantra because it spoke so wholly to me. "I will choose courage before comfort".

Comfort is also a tricky concept. For me, "false comfort" is a true beast. Sometimes it feels like comfort, because whatever it is allows us to feel less anxiety, be it through drugs, alcohol, food or any other number of numbing agents. But the "comfort" becomes a problem in and of itself. Drug abuse and addiction. Alcohol abuse and addiction. Food addiction and weight management problems. Avoidance. The list goes on and on. None of those are comforting for long.

I've really tried to focus on allowing myself to be uncomfortable for a short term in order to gain longer term contentment. It's so hard! And harder in some areas than others. I am able to apply this concept in some areas of my life and not in others. Some days I do well at it and others I do not. And instead of berating myself on the "do not" days, I am trying so to congratulate myself on the "did" days.

In making my way back from the difficulty of the past year, I am finding myself in need of a lot of support. It's hard for me to admit that, because it seems like failure and lack of strength on my part. Others tell me it is a strength to ask for help. So I have been trying to practice courage in this aspect of my life and ask for support when I need it instead of taking pride in doing all on my own. I'm still not very good at it, and it's really easy to fall back into comfortable routines, but I do see the benefits when I talk to someone and get my thoughts out of my head and feel that connection that comes from that vulnerability of opening up. It's a bit ironic that I see vulnerability in myself as a weakness, but in others I admire it as a virtue.

For me, it's teeny tiny steps at this point, but I think I will be more successful in the long run making small strides. I hope I can get better at asking for what is needed. I hope I can get better at leaning in to discomfort. All I know is, this courage stuff is hard work!

A Time For Discovery...

2013-11-12T15:32:00.003-07:00

I'm back! It's been months since I last blogged and I decided it was high time I got back to it. These past few months have been tough. This year, as a whole, has been the most difficult year of my life.

After much deliberation and discussion, I decided not to continue with ECT treatments and had my last one in July. The cognitive effects and the impact on my memory had become too much for me and the benefits of the treatment no longer outweighed what I felt I was losing. Although I was seeing some positive results from ECT, it became obvious that I would have to have the treatments very frequently to continue to see the level of success that we wanted with the ECT. However, to have the treatments so close together greatly impaired my cognitive functioning and left me not at all myself. We had a very scary situation in May (that I have no recollection of), when I was "not myself", couldn't take care of myself, would only communicate with Kyle by shaking my head, and often could not communicate at all. Brain scans, a spinal tap and many other tests were conducted but none showed a reason for my experience.

I had over 50 ECT treatments. Because of my experience with the side effects of ECT, I wish I had never had it. But if anyone asked me whether he or she should try it, I would encourage that person to carefully research it, weigh the pros and cons, and consult professionals regarding the specific situation he or she has, just as I did. ECT has been very successful for so many people, and my specific reaction to it was not "normal". The doctor that administered my ECT, the anesthesiologist, and the entire staff was phenomenal. They took such good care of me, tried to minimize any discomfort as much as possible, and made me feel like my well-being was their first priority. I couldn't have asked for better care. In my specific situation, it just didn't work out. But it has for so many!

After stopping treatment, I sank into a deep depression for several months and am just now beginning to make my way out of the darkness. And it feels so good to start to see the darkness slowly turn to dawn. As much as I want there to be, there is no single solution for me. I take antidepressants and medications for anxiety. I see my therapist. I have an amazing, supportive husband who loves me the way I am. And I'm finding that walking four times a week for 3 to 4 miles each time is a terrific way to clear my head, breathe fresh air and give me a boost of energy. Next on the list is to address my chaotic eating and set some goals for better nutrition. But taking it one change at a time has proven to be far more achievable for me than trying to do everything and be everything at once.

This has been a year of hope, disappointment, grief, anger, frustration, humility, and so much more. I've lost my identity, and at first that was terrifying, confusing, and discouraging. Re-establishing that seemed a daunting and unachievable task when I was so deeply depressed. Frankly, I didn't care to undertake that task. I just wanted to curl up in a ball forever. But as the fog started to lift, my therapist and I had a discussion about how to look at the situation another way. Perhaps, just perhaps, I could possibly get excited about the chance to "start over". Maybe it is not just time to mourn what I have lost, but also a time to begin to discover what makes me me. How many people get the chance to completely re-evaluate what composes them? I have an opportunity to rethink who I am, what makes me whole, who makes me whole, what I desire, and where I want all of that to take me. Yes, all that is a bit daunting, but it is also a huge gift.

The day after that conversation that gave me a faint whisper of hope, I was taking a walk and I encountered this perfect little caterpillar. I couldn't help but believe that it was a nudge of encouragement from the Universe acknowledging that, difficult as it might be, undertaking the task at hand would be worth it. A caterpillar holds such promise of beautiful things to come. Maybe my life does, too.

When Anger Bubbles Up...

2013-06-06T13:49:00.001-06:00

I used to think that some feelings were "bad". Anger was one of them. I didn't think that it was okay to get angry, and I thought I wasn't supposed to be angry, every. Now I believe that feelings aren't bad at all, it's simply what one does with them.

Yesterday, when journaling, I realized how much anger was bubbling up inside me lately. An older version of me would have deemed it "wrong" to be angry, and I would have felt that I needed to get rid of that anger immediately, or at least found a way to hide it and keep it a secret. An older version of me would never have admitted to being angry, let alone blogged about it.

I try to be a positive person and look for the best in everything, but my blog is entitled "The Way I Am", and sometimes, I am angry. Once I realized that I was angry yesterday, I started journaling about the why. It wasn't hard to figure out. I feel angry that I don't feel like myself lately. I'm angry that I am no longer permitted to drive, indefinitely. I'm angry that I feel that I have lost my independence. I'm angry that ECT has helped my depression tremendously, but comes with disadvantages, too. I'm angry that my memory has been dramatically changed. I'm angry that most of the issues that I'm angry about are beyond my control.

I'm a bit of a control-freak and a perfectionist. A lot of life is beyond my control. A lot of my current life is certainly not perfect. It's easy to understand why I might feel a little angry right now. Now I just have to figure out what to do with it.

I've downloaded a meditation application to my phone that I'm going to try later today. I've continued to do some journaling. I saw my therapist yesterday. I've talked about some of this with Kyle. I have my little Pip and Dobby in my lap who provide me tremendous comfort. I'm trying to stay away from the package of cookies in the cupboard. What positive ways do you find to cope with anger?

Where Did Roxann Go?

2013-04-01T10:43:00.000-06:00

I haven't complained much about any of the downsides of ECT because, frankly, it's saving my life. Maybe that sounds overly dramatic to say, but when I think about the depression I had sunk into in late January, and the desperation I was feeling by the time I checked into the hospital then, saying ECT is life-saving is a fair assessment. Those who know me best all agree that I look and sound better than I have in months if not years. ECT is doing for me what a variety of other treatments could not.

It does have its drawbacks, though, and try as I might to overlook them or to focus on the many benefits I'm getting out of ECT instead of the difficulties, sometimes I get discouraged and I feel aggravated, annoyed and saddened by the inconveniences, the challenges, the hardships, and the aspects of my life that it makes harder at the same time that it's saving it.

One of the hardest aspects lately is that I don't feel like myself and I keep wondering where my sense of self went. A big part of this is because my memory is so deeply affected by ECT. Not long term, deeply planted memories, but shorter term stuff. I remember my wedding day, or more importantly who my husband is. I remember the education I received in college (both undergrad and graduate level). I know how to find my way to my house. But a great deal of memories are completely obliterated, and many more are sliding away quickly. I have no recollection of seeing the Grand Canyon, though I remember being in the helicopter above it. Sometimes I can't think about how to get somewhere; for example, from my house to Walmart or from my house to a Dr.'s office and I have to Google directions. Numbers that I used to easily dial from memory on my phone now have to be looked up. Sometimes a name sounds familiar but I can't remember my connection to it. Dinner last night? No idea. Have I eaten at that restaurant before? I may or may not remember, even if it was yesterday. I have forgotten many of the movies I've seen either just once or even several times. This isn't necessarily bad because we just watch them again, but it's just a little unsettling to know I watched Skyfall at the theater less than four months ago and I don't remember a moment of it when rewatching it this week.

I've lost interest in doing much of the many activities I used to enjoy including scrapbooking, taking photos, journaling, cleaning (yes, cleaning!), organizing, household projects, shopping, reading and writing. I still do some of these activities to some degree, but I don't get the enjoyment out of them that I used to. Part of the lack of enjoyment comes from the fact that it's harder for me to do them. Whereas once they came to me so naturally that they just seemed to occur, their completion now requires a great deal of effort on my part. Also, as odd as this might sound, sometimes I feel like I just don't know how to do some of the tasks required to complete these activities. ECT brings with it cognitive difficulties, and so I've forgotten the necessary steps to do some of these small tasks and then I get frustrated and I give up on doing them at all because I feel like a failure or I feel like I won't do them right or can't do them right.

Something that goes along with this is that I can't remember where I put or how I organized a great deal of the household and I get frustrated trying to remember where things are. Also, when I was in the hospital for two weeks, and as I've been recovering over the following few months, Kyle has stepped in and done many of the tasks and chores that I used to do. He naturally does them differently than me, stores items differently than me, and places household items in different locations than me, so sometimes even if I remember where I used to put it, it might not be there when I look.

Whereas I used to have a pretty strong sense of "this is who I am", lately I struggle with this. I try to keep a positive outlook and remember that this is an opportunity I get to redefine myself, rather than a negative. But it's a little scary, a bit daunting, and a lot lonely. I remember thinking to myself last week that I was watching an unhealthy amount of NCIS on DVD. But when I thought about why I might be doing so, it actually made sense to me. The old Roxann rarely watched TV, especially in the daytime. She'd be blogging or journaling or looking through magazines, scrapbooking, finding a new project around the house, etc. But the right-now-Roxann didn't want to do any of those things, and the only sense of familiarity was that of the characters and the storylines of the NCIS episodes. I know the characters inside and out. I've seen all the episodes at least once, some 2 or 3 or 4 times. So NCIS was very comforting when so many other aspects of my life have become unfamiliar, foreign or sometimes even a sad reminder of what used to be but is no longer.

Even these small realizations about myself help me figure out who I am right now, and where I might be going or should be going. It's probably not something I'm going to figure out this week or even this month, and it's something that is probably going to be in flux for awhile. I drive myself a little crazy with it because I'm a person that likes a place for everything and everything in its place. I want to know what my place in the world is so I can be working towards that.

But for now, perhaps my place is just to get well.

Then there will be loads of potential for a new place to develop.

I'm in Love with Three Men...

2013-03-28T15:32:00.001-06:00

Actually, two of them could hardly be considered men, but they are of the male persuasion.

Maybe you can see why it's hard not to fall in love...

The third fella I'm in love with looks something like this.

It's this guy I want to talk about today. You see, there aren't enough words in blog-dom for me to express:

how proud I am of him
how much I love him
how loved back I feel by him

But I will try.

Kyle and I have been married almost seven years and have known each other almost eight. I've never known Kyle to say a mean word to anyone, and he's always the first one to volunteer to help someone or assist with a project. He's always the one who gets asked to help with those kinds of big projects, too, probably because he's the kind of guy who people know they can depend on to help them. This applies to coworkers, family members, people broke down along the highway, or just about any person on the planet. Almost no one is excluded. Kyle helps just about anyone he can.

My all-time favorite pic of Kyle and Pip

Kyle has a huge heart. He hates to see anyone get hurt. Especially those who are defenseless, such as small animals and children. As you can imagine, "discipline" is a loose term around here when it comes to the dogs. Kyle has a hard time putting his foot down when it comes to Pip or Dobby. They tend to get away with a great deal. But I'm not a whole lot better, so I can't say much. Kyle is great with the pets and he is great with little kids.

Kyle has definitely lived up to his vow to love me through sickness and health and he has taken care of me through sickness, too. And not only has he done those things, but he hasn't held it against me or resented me for it, either. When Kyle and I first began dating I was honest with him about my previous mental health hospitalizations, my history with mental illness and what I was currently experiencing with it. I didn't want him to have any surprises there, and he took it all in stride. I expected it to scare him away, but nothing seemed to scare Kyle away, and he persisted in appearing interested in dating me. Before long I was just as smitten with this new guy as he seemed to be with me. We lived hours apart, so we were emailing and calling all the time getting to know each other.

One of the benefits of Kyle and me having a long distance relationship through the majority of our courtship is that we had some really long conversations and got to know each other, I felt, really well. My first phone bill gave me a near heart attack, but we made some changes to the phone plan after that and billing improved. I have never liked talking on the phone, but for Kyle, I made exceptions, and we talked sometimes four hours a night. Looking back on what was my senior year of undergraduate school, I don't know how I got any studying done, because I was always on the phone with Kyle. But on the plus side, I got to know his mind and heart so well, and that has served me so well as his wife.

I adore his sense of humor. It's quiet, sweet, fun. Like this picture below. This isn't something he would actually ever really buy, which is why I found it so funny for him to be holding it.

He's a total goofball when it's just the two of us. Those are my favorite moments together. Those are also my favorite moments of being alive. How special is it to be that person that someone will be themselves with? I love that Kyle will show that side of himself with me.

Monday of this week Kyle interviewed for a new job as a Real Estate Transaction Specialist with the Wyoming Office of State Lands and Investments. He was later offered the position and after some soul searching and a family meeting he decided to accept it He's excited for a new challenge, a chance to have some supervisory experience, and it means he will be home more with me and on the road traveling less. What a compliment to hear your spouse say he'd rather be home with you than out on the road! I am so excited for him to begin this new chapter, to have less stress and to be home more. I'm so proud of him for the 13 years of very hard work he's put in at the Wyoming Department of Transportation.

But it's so much more than that. At the end of January I was hospitalized for depression for two weeks. Kyle continued to work full time and do some travel for that job. But he also visited me at the hospital and called me frequently to check on me when he couldn't visit. Then I made the life altering decision to do electroconvulsive therapy (ECT) treatments, and Kyle fully supported that decision. This meant that Kyle would have to make some serious adjustments to his work schedule. He didn't bat an eye, filled out FMLA (family medical leave act) paperwork, and regularly showed up for my medical appointments while I was still inpatient. Mind you, I was hospitalized two hours from our home, so this wasn't the easiest for him to do. Although I was still inpatient for my first ECT treatment, I was scared out of my wits, so Kyle arranged to come to the hospital for it (even though he couldn't be with me for the actual treatment). I was away from him for about two hours from start to finish for the ECT. So even though Kyle came to support me, I was away from him and it's a lot of sitting around and waiting on his part. Then, when I came out, I was still groggy from anesthesia, so I often slept a lot when we were back together. But he came back to my hospital room and sat beside my bed for hours and just held my hand until he had to go.

Upon my release from the hospital, Kyle had to promise my doctors that he wouldn't leave me alone at all and that he would drive me anywhere I needed to go. So Kyle had to take sick leave from work to basically take care of me as if I were a child. This lasted two to three weeks. He filled my prescriptions, measured them into my med organizer and wrote down any side effects I was having or questions we had for the next appointment. He coordinated everything with Dr. Fisher, my ECT specialist, and wrote down my instructions. Kyle was basically an extension of myself for myself. He joked with me and kept it light when it could have gotten dark. He has to put up with me asking the same questions repeatedly. And he's super patient.

A dear family friend told me he couldn't tell me how proud he was of Kyle, that "Kyle is the ultimate help-mate". He captured it so so perfectly. When I left teaching and then work altogether to focus on getting better, Kyle supported me and gave me opportunity to do what I needed to do to get better and be a healthier person. He didn't berate me or make me feel like a lesser person for the money I wouldn't be earning.

Kyle's new job opportunity at State Lands has financial repercussions for us. Leaving his current position and taking this new one meant a substantial pay cut. Sure, that stinks. But there are so many other more important aspects of our life that warrant consideration as well, and I'm very glad that I am married to someone who considers all of them, and not just the $ signs on the paycheck at the end of the month. I think this job will make Kyle happier, and a happier man will be healthier. A healthier man will live longer, meaning my husband will live longer.

Kyle has fully supported me, in everything I have needed, wanted or tried to do since we meet. And yet, he doesn't treat me as anything less than a complete and equal partner in our marriage. What could have reduced me in his eyes; what could have somehow made me seem far less than his equal has somehow brought us so close together. Each day I see the strength in our love and am so grateful for this man who brings me such immense joy and happiness.

Most little girls dream of their wedding days. They fantasize about Mr. Right, Prince Charming and Happily Ever After. I never did, because I truly never saw myself married when I was growing up, but it's just as well, because nothing would have measured up to this.

On a final note, before anyone leaves me a mean comment saying that my blog isn't realistic or anything along those lines, I'm not saying our marriage is perfect, nor is either one of us. We get frustrated with each other and with circumstances. But I'm saying with the big issues, and when circumstances really matter, we take the time to listen and to hear. A quote in my planner that I love this week says, "A successful marriage is not a gift; it is an achievement." ~Ann Landers

A Little Bit About My World Lately...

2013-03-21T22:50:00.001-06:00

I have a severe lack of pictures lately. I am not sure why that is, but I will try to remedy it.

It's very hard for me to write these days. The ECT treatments that I continue to have weekly affect my memory and cognitive abilities dramatically, but the payoff of the dramatic affect they have also had on my mood is, for me, well worth it. It has not been easy at all, but it has been quite humorous at times, too. Kyle and I have a good laugh over my absurdity and ignorance many times. I'm learning to leave myself very detailed notes and post-it notes are becoming my very best friends. Bear with my writing - it's a little off and requires a lot of me looking up words in the dictionary and thesaurus to get a blog written these days. But I'm determined to get back to my old self, especially once these treatments end.

I adore the television series NCIS, and we own every season of it on DVD. Kyle and I have watched them all, but the ECT obliterated many details of the series from my memory, so we are enjoying watching several of the episodes again. It's like the first time all over again for many of my favorite episodes! Such fun!

Kyle and I were in a fairly serious car accident Sunday and to be honest, it's made me a bit gun-shy about driving lately. No one was hurt, thankfully. The other driver was cited, but we are still waiting to hear whether she has valid insurance. If she doesn't, our insurance - Allstate, will cover us for a deductible, so we're covered one way or another, but I still hope that in the end hers comes through and our Escape is repaired without costing us. We were taking Kyle's father out to dinner, headed down Dell Range at about 40 mph, the speed limit. A woman turned in front of us, the oncoming traffic, and though Kyle tried valiantly to slam on the brakes, he couldn't keep from hitting her. Because Kyle's Dad is hard of hearing I always have him sit in the seat next to Kyle so they can chat and so he can hear Kyle more easily. Because I am so short and because I was in the backseat, I didn't have even a hint of what was about to happen, and the accident took me by total surprise. Shocked me, would be more accurate, and as my dad joked, isn't the kind of shock therapy I am accustomed to. The glasses flew off of Kyle's face and he couldn't find them, nor could he open his door (due to the damage) to step out and look for them. Once I had myself pulled together, I got out of the Escape and jerked a very damaged driver door open. I felt around on the floor and found Kyle's glasses and handed them to him. He was very rattled.

"Baby, we're all okay. Everybody is okay. It wasn't your fault." I had my hands on both sides of his face, reassuring him that everything and everyone was okay and that we knew that he had done his best to keep us from getting hurt. Fortunately there had been four witnesses; one of whom was already on the phone with the police. They all stayed until the police got there. We wanted to drive our Escape home but the police said it was too damaged for that and would have to be towed, so he dispatched a wrecker. My sister-in-law came and picked my father-in-law, Kyle and me up and took us back to my father-in-law's house.

During the earlier phases of my ECT treatment I was not permitted to drive. This is not unusual. To quote the guidelines: "You may NOT drive a car during the entire course of the ECT treatment phase. You must have a release from your ECT doctor to begin driving again. This will be considered 2 weeks following the completion of ECT or when your response to maintenance ECT (ECT frequency of once per week or less) has been established. S0, since my driving privileges had been curtailed, my car had not been maintained as well as it might normally have, thus its battery was in sketchy condition and so my father-in-law had to take Kyle and me to get a new battery because my car was dead, and a jump start wasn't enough to keep it going for long. So we got a new battery, took that to the house, and then we all finally went to dinner.

It took a couple of days for the paperwork to get through from Allstate to Enterprise but it finally did and we got our replacement vehicle midweek - a Subaru Forester. I was super ecstatic to discover the heated seats and may never return the rental for this reason.

I went to pick up my prescription for Lunesta (to help me sleep) today. Kyle dropped it off for me last Friday, so almost a week ago. I had some problems getting it filled. I'm not sure what those were, but it was finally ready for me, so I went to get it today and brought it home. Should have checked it before doing so, because I get it home, and I notice a slight problem.    The directions on the bottle and the printout that came with the prescription says TAKE ONE TABLET BY MOUTH EVERY NIGHT AT BEDTIME. It also says QTY: 15 and right beneath that it says Days Supply: 30.

Now, I am really horrible at math, but the last time I checked, if I was supposed to take one tablet every night, I'd need thirty for a month's worth. When I called the pharmacy back, they explained that my insurance will only cover 15, not the full 30 and that the other 15 must be covered at my own expense out of pocket, which:
a) I wouldn't pay over $100 a month for a sleeping pill even if I did have the budget for it
and
b)I would really appreciate having been told all of this when I was at the pharmacy the first time around. I find it slightly important for them to have let me know.

So this blog post is really about all the craziness that is my life lately. None of it really amounts to anything, but it keeps affecting me nonetheless. I could get really worn down by it and either depressed, angered or otherwise ill-affected by it. However, I'm just grateful that the craziness continues to appear to be of little consequence. No one was harmed in the accident. Insurance is covering at least SOME of my prescription. My mind is compensating somehow to cope with the ECT treatments (to a degree). My husband continues to be an amazing support.   Life isn't the same as it was six months or even four months ago, but I'm learning to measure successes and failures differently lately.

Today My Heart Is Happy Because...

2013-03-14T12:50:00.001-06:00

My hubby is coming home after being gone for five days.
My depression appears to be lifting and I may be able to see a reduction in the number of ECT treatments needed each week.
I have these guys who keep me company and make me smile.

I found these lovely green blades of grass popping up in the yard.

The sun is shining beautifully and I get to have the doors and windows open.
I had a wonderful lunch yesterday with someone who is a dear friend to me.
I spent two days with my beautiful Mom just hanging out, which is something we haven't done in years.
An old friend and I are working on repairing our broken relationship because she reached out to me. I really appreciate that.
I feel loved and fortunate.

Conquering Fear...

2013-03-05T12:42:00.001-07:00

I've been thinking a lot about fear this week and how I conquer it. Fear has been a consistent part of most of my life living with an anxiety disorder. Sometimes I am tougher on fear and manage it better than other times. At times in my life, fear and anxiety have kept me from participating fully in my life. At other times I surprise myself and I'm able to act in spite of it.

I have been afraid of a lot lately, and that can get really exhausting. But the flip side of that is, I've had a lot of opportunity to overcome fear and act in spite of it lately, too, and that gives me more chances to prove to myself how strong I actually am. I also learn that situations don't usually end up being as scary as I anticipate they will be in the beginning.

I dreaded going into the hospital in January. Going into the hospital is crummy enough, but going into the psychiatric ward seemed even crummier because there are so many restrictions there. I didn't know what to expect from the staff of the hospital and from the other patients. I was terrified of starting ECT and of having anesthesia three times a week to start. I was scared to be away from Kyle. I was scared what friends and family would think of me. I was scared about how the things that I usually handle at home - bills, etc., - would get taken care of while I was away.

Over the next few weeks I learned that I didn't have as much to be scared of as I originally imagined. The staff of the hospital was phenomenal. They treated patients with so much respect and care. I was able to use the phone anytime group wasn't going on. I could call Kyle as often as I wanted. He was able to bring my computer to the hospital and check me out of the psychiatric ward for an hour and we paid some bills together easing my concerns about that. Kyle was his usual amazingly loving and supportive self and called and visited regularly. He came to the hospital for my first two ECT treatments even though he couldn't be with me during the treatment. My sister in law visited me, my father-in-law sent flowers and my parents called regularly letting me know I wasn't forgotten. The ECT treatments went well and better yet, I started to feel better after a couple weeks of treatments. My little dogs didn't forget who I was while I was gone and were super happy when I came home. There was not as much to worry about as I originally thought there would be.

I know I am always going to have to conquer fear. It's built into my wiring to be a worrier and a planner. But I can use my successes as reassurance and continue to move forward in spite of the fear. Fear could easily paralyze me and prevent me from doing both the things in life I want to do, but also the things I need to do to be productive and successful. I will always have to work to overcome self-doubt and fear.

These past few weeks have been a lesson to me that life can consist of a great deal more than just my fears and worries. There's no cure for being afraid. I just have to keep acting in spite of it. I can't say it gets easier for me, but I do prove my own strength to myself and I show myself just how much I really can accomplish.

The Cognitive Side Effects of ECT...

2013-03-03T20:16:00.002-07:00

My biggest concern when I was trying to decide whether to do ECT was whether I would hurt my brain. There's actually evidence to suggest that ECT might lead to brain "re-growth" in areas that may be atrophied in patients with chronic, severe depression! But that doesn't mean there's not some scary cognitive issues that occur when one is doing ECT! However, depression in and of itself has affected my memory and cognitive functioning, so it can be a bit tricky to try to distinguish what is depression, what is ECT and what is something else entirely!

Short term memory problems have become an issue for me as I've gone through ECT, and as is not uncommon, it is getting more severe as I have more and more treatments. Most of it is unimportant stuff - not remembering what I had for dinner last night or not remembering what treatment number this week will be. Sometimes it's a really weird experience, like last week when I didn't even realize I had already had my ECT treatment. I thought I was waiting to go in for my treatment and I was already done. That was really bizarre! I also had absolutely no recollection of seeing the doctor that had done the ECT. It was a bit unnerving but I'm reassured that it's completely normal.

Because of the anesthesia required for ECT, I will always need Kyle or a friend or family member to drive me to and from an ECT treatment. But in this acute phase of treatment where the doctors and I are monitoring the effect that the ECT has on me and my body, I have not been permitted to drive at all. I was finally cleared to drive on none ECT days this past Friday.

There's some cognitive dysfunction right after the procedure - that's the most common. That's the sort of disorientation most of us experience when we are coming out of anesthesia. This generally resolves within minutes to hours after having ECT. I'm starting to experience a lot more of this in the later treatments than I did early on.

My psychiatrist started me on the medication donepezil, which is a cholinesterase inhibitor used to treat dementia (eg, impairment of memory, judgment, and abstract thinking; changes in personality) in patients with Alzheimer's disease (or those doing ECT, apparently!)

In the beginning of ECT, during the acute phase, ECT is administered three times a week on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Into my third week Dr. F. reduced my treatments to twice a week and then just once a week because I was having too many cognitive side effects. The treatment team uses a variety of indicators to tell them how we're doing. This past week my depression score was getting too high again, so Dr. F. told me it may be necessary to go back to two ECT treatments a week temporarily to get the depression under control again. It's a challenging balance to try to figure it all out!

If you have any questions about ECT please ask them. I will do my best to answer them or find someone who can answer them!

What an ECT Treatment Is Like...

2013-02-28T09:57:00.000-07:00

This Friday will be my ninth ECT treatment, and they're getting both easier and harder. It's easier because I have the process down and I know what to expect. It's harder because the process is taking a little bit more of a toll on my body as we go forward.

So let me tell you what ECT is like for me. I have it pretty easy because I get to sleep through most of it! Kyle's the one who has to sit around waiting. I am put completely under with anesthesia for an ECT treatment, so I can't eat before it. When I was inpatient, most of my ECT sessions were pretty early in the day - around 9 or so. Now that I'm outpatient they are late morning or early afternoon to give me time to get there. (Or to torture me since I can't eat...I'm not sure which).

The Guerra Fisher Institute is inside the Boulder Community Hospital. When it's time for an ECT treatment I check in at the Guerra Fisher Institute. I kiss my hubby goodbye (the hard part!) and then one of their super amazing nurses takes me across the hall to the procedure area. It's a nice bright area with lots of windows. My nurse is with me from start to finish, and I'm getting to know them all pretty well by now. My nurse shows me to a gurney, hands me my clothing bag and a hospital gown and has me change. I get to leave my bottoms on, and my bra, removing only my shirt and putting on the hospital gown over my own pants. They also have you use the bathroom at this time. This is an important step! :)

Then I crawl onto my gurney and my nurse gets me a warm blanket out of the the blanket oven. Since my veins don't like to cooperate for next step of placing the IV, the nurse usually puts hot packs on my arms. While the hot packs work their magic, I get two medications. One is a liquid that I drink from a little brown cup and it minimizes secretions in my mouth. The other is an anti-nausea medication that dissolves under my tongue.

Nausea is one of the most common side effects of ECT and one that I've had the most trouble with. I was sick to my stomach several times after my first ECT treatment, so they've been working hard to find the right cocktail of meds to give me before the procedure to make me feel better after. This nausea medication helps a great deal and I haven't been sick since that first treatment.

Sometimes the anesthesiologist puts my IV in, sometimes the nurse does. Then my gurney is wheeled into the procedure room where they do the ECT. My nurse puts the electrodes on my temples and monitors on my chest.

This was one area that Kyle and I had to make a decision before my first ECT. ECT can be done unilaterally or bilaterally. Bilateral works a little faster but can have more cognitive side effects. We opted to start bilaterally and to go back to unilateral if we were disconcerted with the effects. Bilateral means that both sides of my head get electricity.

There are usually four of us in the room. Dr. G. is the anesthesiologist but is also a psychiatrist, Dr. F. is my psychiatrist and he gives me the actual ECT, and then there is a nurse.

While all the little gadgets are being attached and hooked up, Dr. G. is getting my IV in and listening to my heart and lungs. Then he has me lie back and pretty soon he tells me "Roxann, you're on your way," meaning he's giving me the sleepytime medicines and I'm on my way to sleep. I opted for a Ketamine anesthetic because there is some literature to suggest that ketamine can have anti-depressant properties and that it may mitigate the cognitive side effects when used during ECT. It is also "pro-convulsant" and allows for better seizure activity. The down-side is that it can lead to more nausea and a longer time of feeling sedated. It can also cause hallucinations after ECT, but fortunately I haven't encountered that yet!

Anesthesia is injected into my IV to make me unconscious and unaware of the procedure, and a muscle relaxant is injected to prevent my body from convulsing violently during the seizure. A blood pressure cuff is placed around my ankle preventing the muscle relaxant from paralyzing that particular area of muscles. When the procedure begins, the doctor can make sure I'm actually having a seizure by watching that foot. I think they give me a mouth guard to protect my tongue and teeth, too.

When I'm asleep, Dr. F. pushes a button on the ECT machine and a small amount of electrical current passes through the electrodes to my brain producing a seizure that lasts 30 to 60 seconds. I am oblivious thanks to the anesthetic and muscle relaxant. An EEG (electroencephalogram) measures my brain's activity and shows the increased activity at the beginning of the seizure and then the leveling off that shows the seizure is over.

A few minutes later, the effects of the anesthetic and muscle relaxant begin to wear off. They wheel me to the recovery area and monitor me for problems while I begin to come out of it. The confusion that occurs upon awakening can last from a few minutes to a few hours. My personal experience is that it is getting a little harder to come out of the anesthesia the more treatments I have, and that it's impacting my memory more in these later treatments than it did in the early treatments. I've also had a pretty severe headache after the past two treatments, but I have a prescription medication for headaches and muscle aches that I can take.

As soon as I can stand and I have a basic grasp of my surroundings, my nurse takes me to Kyle and I can go! Dr. F. and the nurse write everything down - med changes, my next ECT appointment, etc. Sometimes it's been as much as three hours since I first came in, but usually it's an hour to two hours. If my stomach is behaving, Kyle usually takes me to lunch somewhere. If my stomach is not cooperating, the nurse will give me ginger ale and try to help me get it under control. Then I get to go home!

So you can see that while it is quite a lot for my body to have to endure to have an ECT treatment, it's really not so bad for me, personally. I get to sleep through most of it! Tomorrow I will talk about the cognitive side effects of ECT.

My Choice to Opt for ECT Treatments...

2013-02-27T11:30:00.001-07:00

They say desperate times call for desperate measures. Last month my psychiatric nurse practitioner had me go to the ER because my depression was unmanageable. The psychiatrist in the ER recommended I go to Boulder, CO and begin receiving ECT (electroconvulsive therapy).

Kyle and I spent some time discussing this and then decided to try it. This was a huge decision for me. I was scared to death!

We drove to Boulder and went through the admissions process at their ER. I was finally admitted to the Boulder Community Hospital to the the psychiatric inpatient unit. I was admitted on a Friday night and I was discharged on a Friday. I was inpatient for two weeks. It is a great facility and the staff was very compassionate.

While I was inpatient I started ECT. ECT stands for electroconvulsive therapy. ECT is a procedure in which electrical currents are passed through the brain deliberately triggering a brief seizure. They aren't sure how ECT helps, but it seems to cause changes in brain chemistry that can alleviate symptoms of some mental illnesses. Most people think of the brutality of ECT in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, but it's a much safer treatment today and is administered much more peacefully.

ECT is given up to three times a week in the beginning (Monday, Wednesday, Friday). As it begins to work it's required less frequently. The beginning phase is the "acute" phase. The acute course is generally 6-18 treatments and can take 2-6 weeks. Some people need more. I needed less. I was starting to have too many cognitive problems and my psychiatrist felt we should back down to two treatments a week, and then one. So now I have one treatment a week on Fridays.

Kyle filled out paperwork to take FMLA time off from work. His supervisor has been amazing and his work in general has been great about giving him the time off he's needed. When I was inpatient, clearly I had the supervision I needed, but when I first came home from the hospital I needed 24/7 supervision. I'm a pretty independent person so this has been one of the hardest requirements for me. Kyle even had to dispense my medications to me! Kyle went back to work yesterday but we had certain times we checked in with each other throughout the day. I also haven't been allowed to drive during this acute phase. I'm hoping to get cleared to drive when I go for treatment this Friday. It's been five weeks!

As hard as it is for me to need to be "babysat", I don't have the words to describe the gratitude in my heart for how amazing Kyle has been through all of this. His love, support and humor are superior to anything I could wish for. He takes care of me and shows his love for me in ways that continually astonish me and make me deeply grateful. He's even taken me for my nail appointments and sat there and while I had them done - twice!

So this Friday will be my ninth treatment. Tomorrow I will tell you about what a treatment is like. I will say that I am feeling tremendously better than I was when I was admitted to the hospital last month. I made a turn for the better after about the sixth treatment. So ECT is definitely helping and I'm glad I made the decision to give it a try, even if it is a really extreme choice.

Does Taking Lithium Make Me A Battery?

2013-01-05T19:29:00.003-07:00

It seems I am the troublesome patient who makes my doctor earn her fees. I have treatment resistant depression/bipolar disorder and it's living up to its name this year. I've tried many, many medications. After dissatisfaction with how I felt on my medications in April and May of 2012, I decided it was time for big changes. I spent the next few months in a hell of tapering off Effexor, Seroquel and Zoloft. This withdrawal caused me to go into a deep depression and in October I sought the help of a new doctor and new medications. Prozac has helped with my irritability and some of my obsessive thoughts and compulsive behaviors, but has done nothing for the depression. The past two months have been two of the hardest of my life. I have never been this depressed for this long.

I saw my doctor again today and it's time to start getting creative and aggressive with meds, so we are going to try lithium. Lithium has been around a long time and has been a go-to treatment for bipolar disorder, but because of lots of new meds that have come along it's been shoved to the side and less popular in recent years. I'm dreading a new medication, new side effects and the unknown, but I'm also hoping BIG time that it helps.

The side effects are nothing I having faced before - in fact, I dug myself a hole and gained 13 pounds on Zyprexa in two (yes TWO) months. And since I have zero, or even negative motivation, it's not going to be easy to undo the weight gain. But I'm realizing I have to pick one battle at a time and right now I am trying to combat the depression and deal with the rest later.

Lithium can cause toxicity quickly so I have to have my blood drawn once a week for the next two weeks as I start it. We are going up with it as quickly as we possibly can without hospitalizing me, although I'm so desperate to feel better that I'd gladly do whatever it is I need to do to feel better immediately. Unfortunately, psych meds take a bit of time to get to their therapeutic levels, so it may be later rather than sooner.

Unfortunately, docs and scientists don't know how lithium really works on depression, but it sort of jump starts the central nervous system. There's more info on lithium all over the web, but no one really knows how it works except that it has been monumentally helpful for some people. I hope I am some people!

Around Here...

2012-12-20T14:01:00.002-07:00

Shoveling after almost a foot of snow.

Loving that there is a chance of snow for Christmas Day.

Savoring this Cheesy Chicken Bacon Broccoli & Rice. So yum!!!

Listening to the holiday music channel both on cable and on the Sirius XM radio in the Escape.

Excited that Peyton Manning has had such a great comeback after surgery last year.

Making goodies to eat. This Nutella Fudge recipe was tasty but not Nutella flavored enough. It just tasted like chocolate without the hazelnut.

Loving the holiday cards that are appearing in the mailbox some days.

Enjoying the holiday light displays that are all over town. We get a little ice cream to make it extra special when we are out to look at lights.

Anticipating spending Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with family.

Consciously focusing on that which is right instead of what seems wrong.

Dreading wisdom teeth extractions that are to come.

Reflecting on the challenges and positives of 2012.

Contemplating what words I want to inspire me in 2013.

Wishing the happiest of holidays for all my friends and family and a most peaceful and pleasant 2013.

An Update on Meds & Me...

2012-12-01T17:15:00.000-07:00

I've written several posts on this blog about my experiences taking psychiatric drugs for bipolar disorder and depression. One of my most recent posts on the subject was about the massive quantity of medications I was taking and the side effects they caused. In this post written in July, I discussed my reasons for discontinuing my medications and the many side effects of withdrawal. I was optimistic that I would be able to remain medication free for an extended period of time, but that was not the result.

About six weeks ago I began seeing a new doctor and trying a new combination of medications to treat my depressive symptoms. Try as I might, I could not shake the depression that came as I began tapering off of medications. I was completely psychiatric medication free for about eight weeks, but it wasn't easy nor healthy for me, and I had to reconsider what direction I would take to treat my medical condition.

It's really hard to evaluate what the best decision is in a situation like this because depression addles my brain and makes decision-making nearly impossible. In fact, we bipolars are usually advised to refrain from decision-making during bouts with the mood disorder. Ironic, since treating the illness impacts our lives in countless ways and can have dramatic consequences!

I won't go into the nitty-gritty details of the ups and downs of meds vs. no meds over the past few months, but let's just say it's been ugly. I would not make it through without my supportive and understanding husband and two little dogs who depend on me. Regardless of whether I am taking medications or not, I realize the value of a support system that lets me be who I am without making me feel badly about it. Being loved without judgment and without exception is unlike anything else in this world, and while it can't "fix" anything it is a solid foundation for the hard work that must be done.

I'm not thrilled to be back on medications for my mood, but I am relieved that there is help. I believe that I am doing what is best for me. I am cautious, optimistic and following my physician's advice to the letter, but I am also questioning, researching and consciously making decisions along with her. I love the teamwork approach that my therapist, my doctor and I have. I know that they can help me a great deal, but that the real work is up to me.

After much thought and consideration I have stopped running the depression and bipolar support group that I founded two years ago. I have found that I need all my resources for myself right now. That's hard for me to admit. I have had so many unique experiences as a result of running the group, and I'm really going to miss a big part of it.

I'm in an uphill climb at present. The medications take weeks to become fully effective, and we have had to increase the dose gradually to prevent side effects. Even with the decision to return to pharmaceutical intervention, relief is not immediate. My motivation and concentration are greatly debilitated at present. I have to be patient with myself and with medicine and the world at large. I'm not thinking as clearly as I would like and I'm unable to engage in the world as I'd like, but I'm hopeful that "this too shall pass" and I'll see a more familiar version of myself at the other end of the tunnel.

So that's it for today. I'm hoping that the mojo to decorate for Christmas will arrive soon and I will have some pictures of my holiday decor to share.

Christmas Tree Paper Chain...

2012-11-15T11:33:00.002-07:00

I wrote yesterday that I've been working on a paper chain for my Christmas tree. I'm not quite into the Christmas mindset yet but because I usually get my tree from my parents the day after Thanksgiving, I have to get my decorations ready for it. Because Thanksgiving is so early this year, that means I have to get motivated even sooner.

Thanks to Pinterest, I've had several ideas for new decorations to incorporate this year. I saw a paper chain made of paper with music printed on it and I just adored it. I like an old-fashioned feel to my Christmas tree, so I knew that a chain would be the perfect addition to my tree.

We are paying for all of Christmas with cash this year. No credit cards, no pay later. I feel awesome about making it through the holidays without the fun of January debt. It does mean that I have to be more thoughtful in my spending, though. I am trying to use supplies for the holidays that I already have. I knew I didn't have any scrapbooking paper with music on it. I have a great deal of Christmas prints, and I was tempted to use them, but I really loved the look of the music. I thought I might have to splurge on some music paper, but then I remembered an old hymnal I've carried around since high school. It hasn't any special meaning, I just liked it. So I gathered the hymnal, my tiny stapler and a paper cutter and got to work.

I went through the hymnal and pulled out the Christmas songs first.

This is an old book, and there weren't many in there. So after I pulled out the Christmas songs I just randomly pulled sheets from the hymnal. Then I cut them into strips that were 1" by 5.5".

Then using my Tiny Attacher I started my chain.

I don't know how many links I made. A lot, because my dad picks out trees the size of the Grizwald's Family Christmas Tree. For now, my paper chain is sitting in a pretty basket. I have a few pages left of my hymnal, so I think I'll make a few more links. I can easily shorten it if needed but it's harder to add on.

I love, love, love the way this turned out and I can't wait to see if on the Christmas tree. I'll follow up with a picture of it on the tree in all it's glory in a couple weeks.

Let me say, too, that this is the second Pinterest inspired project that I've done this year that incorporated me having to dismantle a book (remember this project?), and it doesn't get any easier! Something inside me nearly bursts during those first few moments of ripping out pages. But both projects have turned out lovely, and I'm starting to sense a new addiction!

What are you working on for Thanksgiving or Christmas?

Around Here...

2012-11-14T10:00:00.001-07:00

Making a paper chain out of an old hymnal for the Christmas tree.

Listening to Mumford & Sons.

Preparing an itunes playlist filled with favorite holiday songs.

Watching NFL games every Sunday, Monday and Thursday. Boardwalk Empire. Brad Meltzer's Decoded.

Waiting for my replacement iPhone to arrive. My iPhone 5 already died on me!

Anticipating the Trans-Siberian Orchestra concert this Sunday. Dinner at the Cheesecake Factory. Original cheesecake.

Planning for the month of December.

Completed making the Christmas cards I will send out this year. Particularly love the adorable hedgehog stamp I used this year.

Reading very little as my vision has been affected by new medications.

Loving that we get to host friends and family for Thanksgiving for the first time.

Grateful for my loving husband and "babies" Pip and Dobby.

Savoring time to myself when I need it most.

NaNoWriMo and Me...

2012-11-02T15:04:00.003-06:00

I first heard of National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) about two years ago. I'm participating this year for the first time. I'm not writing a novel, but rather some personal essays or something more along the lines of memoir. That's the great thing about NaNo - it doesn't matter what you write, they just want to encourage you to write something. Get the words on the page.

I decided to jump on the bandwagon this year for several reasons. The past few months have been tremendously difficult for me. The roller coaster ride of going off meds and now being back on them has left me less than motivated to do anything, let alone get creative. I'm back on medications and slowly digging myself out of the hole I was in for August, September and October. Part of that means getting back to doing the activities I love to do.

I've always loved to write, and though it is one of the first activities I set aside when I start to get depressed, it is also one of the most therapeutic for me as well. Putting words on a page (or screen) has a healing component to it that few other remedies can compete with.

But I grow extremely self-concious about my writing when times are tougher. Words don't come as easily. My mind feels muddy and sluggish and I'm not sure I'm saying what I mean. I have to rely on the dictionary and thesaurus more. Words that flow freely when I feel "normal" get dammed up when I'm depressed.

I write on this blog about my life experiences, mostly to record them for myself, for Kyle and for anyone that knows me and cares. But when I am depressed, I don't want to bog the world down with my own feelings, thus I withdraw from writing and sharing those darker times with others.

I find, though, that the people that often offer me the most comfort in depression are those who have gone through it as well. I hope that somewhere I am a little spark of hope for a fellow depression sufferer, and that my little blog is a way to reach out and touch the hand of someone in despair the way so many other people have reached out to me in my times of need.

I have a lot to write about, but self-doubt and my inner gremlin (her name is Grizelda) convinces me that no one cares. No one is interested in my little life. So NaNoWriMo is a perfect challenge to myself to put down the words. It doesn't mean anyone will read them. It doesn't mean they will go out in the world at large. It simply gives me permission to put it all down on paper. Maybe I'll go back and look at it when it's all done and say, "There's something here. I must do something with this." Or maybe I'll look at it and think, "What a bunch of crud! Good thing no one else saw this mess!"

NaNoWriMo is simply an opportunity to write - something I already love to do - along with many other people who also love to write. It brings together a community of writers to encourage one another and give that little extra push when it seems to daunting to do otherwise. And maybe it will help silence Grizelda.

You can follow my word count on the sidebar of my blog - I'm almost to 7,000 and it's only the 2nd day!