Puzzled

A Course for Nowhere, originally uploaded by Wetsun.

Did I mention that the government turned us down? We are in that in between place where we have too much income from unemployment assistance to get other aid, but too little income from unemployment assistance to live on.

And this week I transferred the last of our savings into checking to cover our bills.

I'm depressed now. Not the chemical kind. The sad kind.

I'm depressed and puzzled. Where is Father taking us with all this?

Guest Post: Bruised

Forehead Bruise, originally uploaded by Daniel Paquet.

A reader asked me to post the following in her behalf, in hopes that it would help others, in a similar situation, to feel less alone:

Part of me thinks that if my husband were hitting me, things would be easier. At least then I would know what to do and I could have a plan of action. I would leave him, and feel completely justified knowing that I just protected myself and my child from physical harm. But, my husband doesn’t hit me. He doesn’t ever lay a hand on me except when he’s being affectionate.

My husband suffers from bipolar episodes of depression that leave me feeling battered and bruised mentally and emotionally. One minute he tells me that he loves me, and the next minute he tells me he doesn’t want to exist. When he gets in his depressed mood, he often tries to tell me that he feels cooped up, stuffed, contained, and that he wants to be free.

He used to tell me that he needs “more time with the guys to do guy stuff.” Over time, his complaints evolved to needing more “things to do” and “man time alone.” He’s complained about our finances, his responsibilities, and told me that he wishes he were single but couldn’t imagine being alone. He often dreams of being young again, having vitality, and youthful excursions of strength.

When he is gone all day and doesn’t make any effort to engage in conversation or enjoy my company when he returns in the evening, it feels as if I am invisible. He takes time to help me take care of our son, but his efforts are not based on love, they are based on his compelling need to control the situation since I take too much time doing things.

When he is not depressed and in his best of moods, I feel elation, love, and adoration for this man that I married. He can be the best of men, and he can be the worst of men. I love my husband, but I also fear him. I know that his mood can set a tone in our home that affects my emotional and mental well being. More importantly, I know that it can affect our son, and that is what truly bothers me. I don’t want my son to be a on that roller coaster with his father. I don’t want him to suffer through the ups and downs simply because his father has a problem with depression.

When my husband seeks to tell me why he is depressed, his evolving excuses always hover around how my son and I are limiting him in some way. He thinks that he is telling me that the solution to his problems is to have more time to do “whatever seems to fit at the moment”, but what I hear is that my son and I are a burden, and that we keep him from being happy. That he loves us but doesn’t want to be with us.

And that is where I am left to wonder what to do. I am an independent woman, and would not fear being a single mom if it were necessary. Yet, I know that marriage is sacred and that we are to do all that is possible to keep our marriages together. Too many marriages end in divorce, and I do not want to be divorced. I am fighting tooth and nail to save this marriage because I care about my commitment to God and to my family.

If he were hitting me, I would have a bruise, and a sure sign of abuse. No one would question my need to have a dramatic intervention in our lives, but I am not bruised on the outside, I am bruised inside. Some of me thinks that I have the victim mentality that commonly comes when a person is abused. I keep thinking of ways that I can be more loving, more kind, and a better person to stop the hurting and to stop the depression and its accompanying critisms. I blame myself for these problems even though I really know that they are completely out of my hands. I have to battle the automatic thought that “I am not suffering any more than women that put up with husbands who are less perfect than they had hoped.” Deep down inside, I am not healing from these episodes and the things that are said during depressive outpourings of emotion. I am no longer capable of keeping calm and feeling in control. I feel sad. I feel angry, and I want peace instead of turmoil in my home.

I need a plan of action, and I am out of the answers that I hoped would work. I feel resentment for this roller coaster I am asked to ride over and over again, day after day. It needs to end. But, what do I do? I am praying for answers and hoping someone will be inspired to say the right thing at the right time, because I can use all the help I can get.

Video Clips: Sharing Experiences

In conjunction with an upcoming documentary on PBS called Minds on the Edge: Facing Mental Illness, the Fred Friendly Seminars have posted many clips, of which this is one, on YouTube. I found them fascinating. This was one of the longest, but I was very intrigued by what Ms. Hardin had to say about the use of marijuana and its ties to schizophrenia.

Personally, I identified most with the experience of Scott Whitley, while Nancy Edwards' story was to me the most touching. The panel discussions are very interesting, too, as well as many, many more of the clips from those who share their experiences with mental illness. Here is the YouTube page.

Joey Pantoliano Speaks Out Against Stigma

Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy

Joe Pantoliano is the founder and president of "No Kidding, Me Too!"  For more information on the work being done there and a link to a trailer for an upcoming documentary, visit the website home page at NKM2.org.

I like to visit there and read and watch the videos to help me remember that I am part of a community, that there are others who understand what I feel and experience.

"Depression: They Just Don't Get It"

There is an excellent blog post today by Therese J. Borchard titled "Depression: They Just Don't Get It." Here is an excerpt:

"I was both enraged and saddened that friends and family were shocked to hear that two doctors sliced me open — before full anesthesia kicked in — to save little David’s life in an emergency C-section. Yet when I voiced the desperation of depression — which made the knife cut feel like a knee scratch — they often brushed it off, as if I were whining to win some undeserved sympathy votes.

But I should know better. Most people don’t get it. And the day I get that through my head I’ll be less disappointed."

See the full post here.

Photo by pulpolux.

And You?

Heavy snow - 1, originally uploaded by randihausken.

I'm doing what I can today, to fight off feeling like this.

The caption on this picture reads,
"Heavy snow and poor light today, too."

I appreciate randihausken for sharing this photograph on flickr. I doubt that it ever crossed her mind that this picture would be deemed suitable for display on a mental illness blog.

But, there it is.

Perhaps you, too, feel bent over and burdened and chilled this day. May you have whatever you need to help you to shake off the snow and stand tall again, despite the cold and dimness which presently engulf you.

Proceed with Caution

Warning:

Depression may be exacerbated by too much time outside the home.
Do not attempt to go grocery shopping two days in a row, even when accompanied by supportive family members.
Pushing limits even slightly may result in dizziness and anxiety upon entering a crowded chapel on the Sabbath.
If this reaction occurs, expect to be unable to function well the following day.

A Mess

personal responsiblity packets
Originally uploaded by _aeb

I'm a mess today. I hacked and coughed all night. Slept late. Am low in energy and depressed.

Last night I chopped at my hair. It looks awful.

In short, I am feeling crazy.

Again.

A thank you to _aeb for generously sharing this work of art on flickr.

Rash

Leaves broke out with "fall rash"
Originally uploaded by Ctd 2005

I have a rash. I also have that virus which is going around. Viruses can bring on rashes. Lamictal, which is the medication I take to stabilize my mood swings, can bring on a rash as well. I did not know before taking Lamictal that any rash could be life-threatening, but the Lamictal rash, which is Stevens-Johnson syndrome, is such a rash. The standard advisement is to contact one's doctor immediately if a rash appears.

I called my psychiatrist's office when I got up this morning. I could hardly speak because of the phlegm in my throat, from the flu, but I asked for an appointment as soon as possible. I was connected to another receptionist, with whom--between fits of coughing and considerable clearing of my throat-- I left a message on a machine.

Now, after several hours, I have yet to hear back. Left hanging, I feel foolish, realizing that this may all be a false alarm. On the other hand, my vision has gotten increasingly blurred over the past months, which is also a Lamictal side-effect. It would be nice to be able to see what I am writing again. I think that I don't want to be on Lamictal any more.

I feel like all of this is too much for me to handle. I am depressed and crying again, and just when I was beginning to feel some normalcy coming back into my life.

(For those who are searching for information on the Lamictal rash, there are pictures on Google Images, which are like the rash I am experiencing. My daughter, however, was on Lamictal and developed a different sort of rash, which manifested as purple blotches on the underside of her chin. It appeared shortly after she began taking the Lamictal, and disappeared as soon as she stopped taking it with a switch to Depakote. Our psychiatrist says that the rash can appear at any time and in a variety of forms.)

Update: Having just re-read this post, I can see why my mom panicked and counseled me via email to go immediately to the ER. What I did not make clear was that what I was experiencing was just the faint beginnings of what looked like it could be the Lamictal rash. The photographs online are quite graphic and definitely scary looking. I just have a few-- 12 or 15-- pink and red spots.

It is now nine p.m. I never did hear back from the psychiatrist's office. I suspect that, despite my efforts to speak clearly on the message I left, the words came out garbled on the other end and no one could tell who called. Anyway, after taking an Ativan for my mounting anxiety, and spending the afternoon hacking and sneezing, but not dying, I'm not worried much about the rash at this point. I will just keep an eye on it. It will probably leave with the flu virus.

(Sorry, Mom.)

A thank you to Ctd 2005 for sharing this photograph on flickr.

The Experience of Grief

Today is the anniversary of the birth, and of the death, of Kristy Palizzi Ragsdale. As the most understanding of friends, her mother, Ann, has helped me through the many bouts of depression which I have endured over the years. She continues to be an example of wisdom and strength to me and to so many others. Here is her latest entry from Kristy's memorial blog. Perhaps you will be blessed today by her strength and wisdom as I have so often been.

The photograph is from www.heraldextra.com, where you can read more about Kristy's story.

Climbing or Descending?

Am I climbing up, or am I descending?
One day it looks like one, another day like the other.

Thank you to confusedvision for sharing this photo in Creative Commons at flickr.

Fire and Water

Fire and Water
Originally uploaded by peasap

I awoke in a deluge of painful memories and tears.
I am trying to remember that what burns also purifies.

The photographer commented regarding this picture:
"It's just a small flame, with Flood added to make the reflection.
The shape makes me think of an angel."

Thank you, Father,
For pushing me down,
And scorching the dross.

Healing Hurts.


Thank you peasap for sharing.

Grogley Halt

Grogley Halt
Originally uploaded by Rich+

I upped my anti-depressant.

Now I am in a grogley halt.

Kind of stuck. More depressed. Not doing much.

Parked.

At lease I am parked in a beautiful landscape.

This, too, shall pass.

I hope.

Thank you to Rich+ for sharing this photograph on flickr.

A Permanent Condition?

diamonds are 4ever, but they make me cry
Originally uploaded by bye bye オモイデ

Thank you to bye-bye-omoide for sharing this picture on Flickr.

I am in that place where I try to decide if it is better to fight my illness or to submit to it and just adjust. I look back over this blog, and see the many times I thought that healing was beginning, when it wasn't. Small improvements have come, but much remains the same as when this all began.

I am reminded of this passage from Mosiah 24:

14 And I will also ease the burdens which are put upon your shoulders, that even you cannot feel them upon your backs, even while you are in bondage; and this will I do that ye may stand as witnesses for me hereafter, and that ye may know of a surety that I, the Lord God, do visit my people in their afflictions.
15 And now it came to pass that the burdens which were laid upon Alma and his brethren were made light; yea, the Lord did strengthen them that they could bear up their burdens with ease, and they did submit cheerfully and with patience to all the will of the Lord.

These people were promised deliverance, and it came to them, in time. I know that deliverance will come to me, as well. I just don't know when, or if it will be in this life, or the next.

In the mean time, I do my best to "submit cheerfully and with patience to all the will of the Lord."

It seems strange to talk about being cheerful when my problem is unrelenting depression, but, somehow, it resonates. In the area of trusting in the wisdom of the Lord in all of this, I do, somehow, feel a measure of good cheer.

I believe that, when all is said and done, this is a time to submit and keep on pressing forward in spite of burdens. The Lord is, indeed, doing great things to make my burdens lighter, through a loving family most of all. Even though these present burdens are not yet removed from my shoulders, He is sustaining me.

I feel His love and approval every day, and that makes all the difference.

Crying

i have to cry sometimes too...
Originally uploaded by bachullus

I have been told by more than one caring person that it is alright to cry.

I know that.

It is alright--and even expected-- to cry at funerals, at births, at catastrophes. It is alright to cry if you are under a certain age or over a certain age, like the dear old woman I met in the nursing home, who cried because her shoe was untied. Like the toddler who cried over the same thing.

It is alright to cry when others are crying.

When you are an adult of a certain age, as I am, it is not alright to cry because you feel overwhelmed at the list of health-related tasks your doctor counsels you to undertake. It is not alright to cry because some irritable receptionist scolds you in front of a group of strangers in a waiting room. It is not alright to cry uncontrollably because you are moved by a piece of music while navigating through fast and heavy traffic on the freeway.

People may say it is alright to cry, but no one is doing it much. The silence, as they say, is deafening.

In my way of thinking, it is particularly not alright to cry when a kind person tenderly expresses concern for you. It rewards their compassion with awkward discomfort.

That is why I don't go out. That is why I don't answer the phone.

It is not because I dislike or fear you. It is because I dislike and fear my own tears.

Thank you to bachullus for the photograph.

Do the Math for Possible Combinations: "Seventy Different Brain Regions!"

It is no wonder we each have a unique experience, that my "bipolar disorder" is not your "bipolar disorder", nor my "depression" your "depression."

From World of Psychology today:

Seventy different brain regions! Which means our constant search for a single cause of a problem like depression or bipolar disorder is unlikely to find merit, even within brain research. The brain’s complexity is interwoven and interconnected in ways we couldn’t even begin to imagine 30 years ago. No single gene or set of genes or regions of the brain will likely ever be the only implicated for our mental health concerns.

See the entire article here.

Relapse

Mallorca 2007 -- Waiting for summer (Part 2)
Originally uploaded by tygerlyl

No outings for me today. As I feared, I have relapsed into depression. I do have hope, however, that I will recover more quickly this time. (No church tomorrow, after all.)




(Click on the picture for photo credits.)

Mania and Anti-depressants

I am on my third anti-depressant this year and I am feeling much better. However, on this one I was beginning to exhibit signs of mania--in my case hypomania--which is a too-common side-effect of anti-depressants in bipolar patients. For me, hypomania presents itself with bouts of insomnia, an insatiable desire to spend money, and other unpleasantness. It was scary to experience these again, since I had been doing well in that area for many months. On my next visit to him, my psychiatrist upped my dosage of mood-stabilizer in the hopes that it would be a shield to the anti-depressant's ill effects. So far, so good. (I hate being hypomanic even more than being depressed. I fear all the time that it will worsen and my behavior will hurt those I love.)

There is a great article about the need for mood-stabilizers when anti-depressants are prescribed for bipolar patients today at Bipolar Beat. Click on the link if you would like to read more on this subject.

(Thank you to this photographer for the picture.)

the telephone call

the telephone call
Originally uploaded by rockstro

I answered the phone today. A dear friend called, and I actually picked up.

I'm on my third anti-depressant in a year. Could this one be working?



(Click on the picture for photo credits.)

Barely Afloat Today

Anti-theft protected
Originally uploaded by aremac

I wrapped a gift this morning for a friend whose husband and daughter were recently killed in an automobile accident. I made a phone call to arrange a visit today to a very close friend whose daughter, last January, was murdered before her eyes. And then I got the news that my widowed mother's much-adored cat had to be put to sleep this morning, and I am submerged in a flood of grief and tears.

I will not be visiting anyone. Those chains that hold me afloat--my knowledge of the plan of salvation--will keep me from complete submersion. But I cannot carry cargo. I just can't.

I hope, particularly if you are one of those I need to visit, that seeing this picture will help you to understand my stillness. I truly have as much love for others as ever I have. But to convey anything has become near to impossible for now.

(Click on the picture for photo credits.)