Recap, part 1

Obviously there has been a huge gap between my last posts and now.  So much has happened, and I'm not just talking everyday things.  There have been some GINORMOUS life events.  In hopes of recapping, here's a short, but sweet, timeline of events.  I'm sure I will expand upon some of them at a later date.

*July 7, 2014 - My husband and I found out we did not get custody of the kids.  However, Z was emancipated.

*July 12, 2014 - My husband cheats on me with TB.

*July 25, 2014 - The kids' last day at our house after summer visitation.  My husband informs me he doesn't see his future including me.  We talk and he agrees to work on our marriage.

*July 27, 2014 - My husband cheats again with TB before coming home to me to have family time with the kids.  He's affectionate with me.

*July 28-August 12, 2014 - Lots of talking with the husband.  Find out he's developing feelings for someone but it's not been physical.  We agree we shouldn't be husband and wife but have no plans to divorce.  We will still be family for the kids.  Lots of compromising on my part but I want to do everything I can to keep my family, even though, in hindsight, "my family" didn't really include my husband any longer.

*August 13, 2014 - The truth comes out about the physical relationship.

*August 13-September 1, 2014 - We fine tune what our relationship now looks like.  He agrees to help me stay in our home until K graduates from high school (May 2017) and we will share visitation time together with the children.  We move Z into college to begin his Freshman year.  Other than that, he will continue his relationship with his girlfriend TB, living with her in another town.

*September 2, 2014 - After time with TB, he comes home to change everything and take away all he'd promised me.  He gives me until the end of the year to figure out how I can support myself and the household.  If I cannot do that, he will kick me out.  I fly into a rage and do something I will regret for the rest of my life.  He then gives me until the end of the month.  Realizing I cannot make that happen, my mom and stepfather agree to let me move in with them - in a different city 180 miles from my home.

*October 4, 2014 - I move to Omaha.

I will continue this at a later date.  It's a good place to stop since the coming changes deal less and less with the dissolution of my marriage and focuses on my family of three - me, Z, and K.  

Suicidal ideation

With some full disclosure to my doctor, I got a new label of something I have: Suicidal ideation.

Sounds scary or kind of cool or maybe like an awesome name for a band, huh?

Well, if you look up the definition, it can definitely slip over into Scary Land:

Suicidal ideation is a medical term for thoughts about or an unusual preoccupation with suicide. The range of suicidal ideation varies greatly from fleeting to detailed planning, role playing, and unsuccessful attempts, which may be deliberately constructed to fail or be discovered, or may be fully intended to result in death. Although most people who undergo suicidal ideation do not go on to make suicide attempts, a significant proportion do. Suicidal ideation is generally associated with depression; however, it seems to have associations with many other psychiatric disorders, life events, and family events, all of which may increase the risk of suicidal ideation. Currently, there are a number of different treatment options for those experiencing suicidal ideation.

That one comes from Wikipedia.

From About.com we get:

Strictly speaking, suicidal ideation means wanting to take one's own life or thinking about suicide without actually making plans to commit suicide. However, the term suicidal ideation is often used more generally to refer to having the intent to commit suicide, including planning how it will be done. Suicidal ideation is one of the symptoms of both major depression and bipolar depression.

Ah ha!  That's me if you just reference the strictly speaking part...especially the area I set in bold and underlined for extra impact. 

There are days I wish I was dead.  There are moments when I cannot help but think that it is the only way to be done with this.  I sometimes think that my family would be better off without me and my issues.

But...

I do not have a plan.  I have no intention of harming myself or others.  I am not going to kill myself.

Why?

Because I don't really want to die.  I love my life.  I love my family and my friends.  I love the activities I do and the things I accomplish.

My husband knows and understands this.  Often when I tell him that I wish I was dead he will calmly ask me if I have a plan.  When I tell him no, he just gives me a hug.  I also have friends who know and understand.  They know the right questions to ask just to check that I haven't slipped over into the Scary Land version of suicidal ideation. 

So, I have suicidal ideation.  For me, it's not necessarily bad or scary or something that requires intervention.  It's a thought and nothing more.

Like drowning

 

Right now, I'm drowning.  My soul hurts.  I am done on every level - emotional, physical, mental, and spiritual.  

I am downing because someone I love passed away.  Her void is felt already.  Her passing leaves my step father without any parents.  My heart is breaking for him.  I don't know how to console him.  Words simply do not come.  All I can do is offer to help out as best I can, to transport my brother, to be the charming hostess at the wake.  To remind him that I love him.  And that I am here.

I am downing because a child decided to end her own life. The child - this 19 year old child - was once like a daughter to me.  But then her mother and I dissolved our friendship.  I checked with the family to see if it would be okay for me to attend her funeral.  Her mother said she would be uncomfortable with me there.  So I will respect her wishes and not attend.  My heart is breaking.  The last interaction I had with this child was very positive.  But, out of respect, which is the same respect I showed by asking in the first place, I will honor the wishes of her mother.  I don't need to attend a funeral to pay my respects and honor the life of this child.  I do wish I could go though.

I'm downing because I am stressed.  So much is going on and I have so very little control over much of it.  I'm not good when I don't have some bit of control.  I have a ritual that I will be leading this coming weekend.  It's on finding and utilizing your inner peace.  Do you have any idea how difficult it is to write about peace when you feel none?  Seriously, fuck peace and just let me get through the day without losing it and let me get through the night without waking in a cold sweat, on the edge of a panic attack, and with the looming night terrors still swimming in my brain.

I am downing because I'm tired and when I'm tired, I find it even more difficult to hold myself together.  I don't know how to deal with the sleepiness AND depression or stress or anxiety.  When I'm tired, I just do my best to get through the day and tackle the one most important task of that moment.

I'm downing.  And I wish it was literal instead of figurative.*

*I am not going to kill myself or attempt to harm myself in any way.  No worries. 

Week 2

I've been Wellbutrin free for 2 weeks.  I'm still not feeling much of a difference one way or the other so I'm really not sure if that is a good thing or a bad thing...or maybe a nothing.  As I'm mentioned, I have no clue how long it will take for the Wellbutrin to be completely out of my system so I don't exactly have a timeline to base my responses, or lack thereof, to the change.  I shall just keep trucking and tracking and go from there.

This past weekend, my hubby and I had planned to make a quick trip to Omaha to pick up some furniture from my dad and stop by to visit with my mom.  We ended up not going at all.  My husband hadn't been feeling all that well and after a crazy long shift at work on Saturday, he was wiped out.  I also wasn't feeling all that great (allergies or a cold like my husband had) plus my anxiety issues were flaring up.  I hate that we didn't go but it was best for us to stay home and rest so we could both feel better. 

My sleep schedule has been all sorts of wonky.  Since I've not been feeling so great, I've been sleeping a little more than normal.  I've also been dealing with many sleepless nights which result in sleeping too much during the day.  It's a vicious cycle that is difficult to end.  I did get to sleep around midnight last night and was up just before 5:00 am.  I didn't get enough sleep or the sleep I need to be doing well, but I'm going to attempt to stay up all day with the hopes of resetting my schedule.  The hope is that I'll be able to go to bed tonight at a normal time and wake the following day at a normal time. 

In one week, Li will be moving to another state.  I'm going to miss her so incredibly much and am dreading the day.  She is one of my best friends and we have this weird bond that I have never felt with other friends.  I really don't know how to describe it in a way that would make sense and be accurate.  I know we will still be in contact and have even planned a get together, but I'm going to miss knowing that I cannot see her at the drop of a hat.  I'm going to miss her hugs the most.

All of the above are contributing to my overall feeling of blah.  I'm feeling a bit anxious and a bit weepy.  I'm a little impatient, rather moody, and just...nothing.  I don't like feeling this way but it is much better than the highly negative way I could be experiencing at the moment. 

One less chemical

As of today, at least for now, I am no longer taking Wellbutrin.  As I've said before, I am very hopeful that everything will be improving.  I know nothing is guaranteed but I'm doing my best to maintain a positive outlook.

My husband believes he's seeing an improvement in my lately just with the decreased amount of Wellbutrin.  In this post, I briefly hit upon the craziness I elected to take on last week.  I didn't add the additional insanity that encompassed the weekend - 2 huge rituals.  I survived and didn't totally lose it once.  I didn't break down and I didn't flip into bitch mode.  I did require some extra recoup time in the form of sleep and solitude, but nothing more than usual.  Hubby pointed out that he didn't think I could have handled the five days of crazy as little as a week ago and I have to agree.  So either the decrease in Wellbutrin or just adjustments in life are making a difference.  Woot!

So, another day and one more moment to get life to where I want to be...where I know I can be. 

Crash mode

I've talked about protection and preparation mode in a past post.  It is something I do when I know I will be doing something outside of my norm...visitors at my house, being around a large-ish group of people, etc.  There is also the crash mode.  It is actually very similar to protection and preparation mode.  The difference is that it just happens, without warning, because of what has happened in the recent past.  This can be pushing myself too much with different and new experiences, not adequately preparing (and protecting) myself prior to such changes. 

To me, PPM (protection and preparation mode - just named it, hahaha) is a positive step.  It is proactive.  It might be a crutch but I would much rather call it a coping mechanism.  PPM requires me to take active steps towards increased success when I'm going to do something that typically causes issues for me with my depression and/or anxiety. 

On the other hand, CM (crash mode) is a result.  It's more so negative because it tends to interfere with me having a normal life.  It is also something to note because when CM hits, I then know I need to review the past several days to see what was different so I can discover what it was that triggered the CM.  There aren't always triggers; depression or anxiety get you in their claws and have their way with you.  It is part of the journey I am on while living with depression. 

When I know what triggers me to have issues, I can prepare for them adequately.  When I don't, I hit CM and realize I need to do what I can to prepare for such instances in the future.  It's a teaching moment for myself.  It's all about the process and figuring out the aspects of my life.

Anyway, today was a CM.  I had plans with Li to go for lunch.  I also had a number of things to get accomplished today because the weekend is full.  Didn't do a thing.  Slept a great deal.  Cried and shut down for a bit.  It affected my life.

Why?

Well, I'm no June Cleaver and I've kind of been trying to be her for the past couple of days.  I have stopped short of donning a 1950s dress and bringing my husband a drink, his pipe, and his slippers upon his arrival from a long, hard day of work.  But I was trying to be this perfect wife and mother.

On Wednesday, the kids came out to stay with us.  It's a rare treat to have them here during the week while they are actually in school.  With the exception of summer, our visits with them are typically weekends, school breaks, and holidays.  We also had my step daughter's friend staying with us while her parents were out of town. 

So I cleaned.  And made real meals.  And participated in nightly, family bonding time.  Wore my happy smile and pretended as though all was fine and dandy.  It was, for the most part.  Then today hit and my brain called me on my bullshit and shut down. 

I am a good wife and I am a good (step) mother.  But I am my version of these titles, not those of someone else.  I'm not perfect and I don't smile all the time.  I'm not crazy perky or all happy happy.  I am usually true to my authentic self and put on no airs when I'm in my home.  (Still occasionally don those masks for moments when it is necessary to be someone else just so I can survive.)

So I take this lesson and learn from it.  I apply what I know to how I need to be. 

What if the new dosages don't do it?

Since I'm on a new dosage of Zoloft and back to my original dosage of Wellbutrin, I have been wondering what will happen if this doesn't do what we are hoping it will.  To the best of my recollection, Dr. S and I didn't make a plan beyond where we are now.  He did once again mention that we can max out on Zoloft by getting to 200 mg.  I would guess that would be the next step if I'm not feeling where I want to be and having some motivation.

But what if I don't improve and the side effects of an increased Zoloft dosage show up?  I'm most concerned about the idea of getting numbed out and not being able to experience my emotions fully.  I'm also worried about the weight gain and sexual side effects.  If that happens, I would guess we wouldn't again up the dosage.

So where does that leave me?

I'm full of all sorts of "what ifs?" that are starting to drive me just a little bit bonkers.  I know it does me absolutely no good at all to worry about something that hasn't happened yet and might not even happen.  I also know that being apprehensive about all these potential problems only makes me more prone to panic attacks.

It is difficult, but I'm trying to direct my thoughts towards the positive.  I and trying to remember that my doctor knows what he is doing and knows what my needs are.  I keep pushing myself to recall that there are multiple methods for alleviating my mental illness issues.

One step at a time, I guess.  And do what I can to keep Mr. Worry at bay.

When your loved one is depressed

Found this great letter on the blog "Little bits and pieces."  I've done a bit of editing to make it more me.  I am strongly considering printing this off and giving it to my loved ones.  It isn't perfect, but it does explain a lot to someone who doesn't have depression. 

Dear Loved One:

Being a parent/spouse/boyfriend or girlfriend/friend to someone who deals with mental health issues such as the ones I have (major depressive disorder, general anxiety, post-traumatic stress disorder, and ADD) is never easy. Being a part of my life means taking on a different type of responsibility that would normally come with fully healthy person. If the illness came on after we met, that can come as a big surprise and create a lot of extra stress because of your lack of experience dealing with it.

I want you to know that love you. I am also extremely depressed, anxious and going through a bad time right now. You have a big effect on how I will deal with my illness. I would like to share with you some things you should know about, so we can fight together to help me get better.

1. Love doesn’t cure all. You may wish that just because we have a good relationship that I should be happy all the time. But no, love is not enough.
2. As a caretaker, your priority is to take care of yourself first. If you are exhausted, overly stressed or aren’t taking care of your own basic needs, you won’t be able to help take care of mine. Be strong in this and I’ll thank you later.
3. Don’t do what you think I need. Ask me and I will tell you the best I can. I don’t give a shit if there are dishes in the sink or laundry needs to be put away. Yes, it is nice that you do that, but I would rather you wouldn’t roll your eyes at me when I cry and make sure that I don’t forget to take my meds.
4. Do NOT, under any circumstances — even as a joke — tell me to just get over it. This is a complicated illness brought on by faulty brain chemistry and years of abuse. I want to get better a million times more than you do. Trust that with support, I will do my very best each and every day to improve.
5. Don’t ever forget that each day may be different. Yesterday, I may have gotten a bit manic and cleaned/organized for hours. It may take me another two weeks before I can do that again.
6. If I say I need alone time, please, please, please — do not take it personally. Most of what I need to do to get better is internal. If I don’t get enough time to withdraw into myself and figure things out, then it will take me that much longer to cycle back out again. And if we have kids, help me to hide it from them and try to get them out of the house when I am unable to do that.
7. Do not ask me how long it will take before I am better again. I have no freaking idea.
8. If you need to vent how hard it is, go ahead. It will be okay. Venting is different from anger though. Find your own support system and ways to deal with those negative feelings. Don’t bury them. You may even want your own therapist for a while to help you deal with what I am going through.
9. Each episode of depression is different. One time, it may be helpful to veg on the couch and watch a bunch of romantic comedies so I laugh a lot. Other times, I may get hyper-focused on a computer game or in reading or in another hobby. At my worst, I may need to sit in my room, alone, in the dark, rocking back and forth crying. I might want to try all of these things. Make gentle suggestions, but if I let you know it isn’t helping, please listen. And don’t take it personally.
10. You are going to feel helpless. You love me and it will drive you crazy that you can’t fix me. It’s a horrible feeling and I can’t take that away from you. But, I can tell you that even though you might think you aren’t doing a lot, if you are following the above advice — you are doing more than you can imagine. Thank you so much for reading.

Love from Me

No change...yet?

I've been taking 300 mg of Wellbutrin for one week now.  To be honest, I don't feel one bit different.  I have had a few bursts of some really happy and great moments, nothing I would consider as mania so no fears there.  My panic/anxiety has neither increased nor decreased.  I really don't think it is doing much of anything.

In one week I will call Dr. S to report how I'm doing so there is still time for it to kick in and show some improvement.  From what I can recall, if we aren't seeing an improvement from the increased dosage, We will take it back down to 150 mg and increase my Zoloft.  But I'm not 100% sure if that was the plan or not.

Overall, I just want something to work.  I want to feel better and have some motivation.  I'd like my anxiety to decrease immensely.  But I still want to feel my emotions.  I need to feel my emotions.

My husband and I had a talk the other morning about how important it is for me to be able to experience my emotions.  While I had never thought about it beyond that I just know I need to feel and express my emotions, my husband pointed out that he feels the experiencing of emotions is an important and necessary part of who I am.  I need to experience those feelings so I can process them and get past them. It is a part of my process and a key to my well-being

He really does know me well.  And I am so very lucky for that. 

Christmas with the family 2012, part 3

(If you are interested, you can catch up by first reading part one and then part two.)
 
We got up the next day (Sunday) and started getting ready.  At one point during the week, I mentioned to my dad that we would try to be to his house, if we stayed the night with my mom, between 9:00 am and 10:00 am.  At 9:01 he called.

I didn't answer.

He left a voicemail and I checked it.  He was just wondering when we were coming over.  I did eventually call him back but it was probably an hour later. 

We got packed up and I sent my husband and the kids over to my dad's house.  I was going to ride with my step dad, brother and sister-in-law since my step dad wasn't completely sure where my had lived.  He knew the general area and I could have given him the address but really didn't want to deal with a potential travel issue like we had the day before. 

Me and my people arrived at my dad's house but my hubby and the kids weren't there yet.  I had jokingly mentioned that it was funny that they were going to have to go over first and he replied that maybe they'd hide out a bit first.  I wasn't happy and the anxiety level rose. 

Since it was cold and snowing, I tried to get my sister-in-law into the house quickly but the safety feature on her new wheelchair made it impossible to do so on my own. My brother went to help and we almost dumped her.  Luckily, my step dad helped out and we were successful. 

After we got them in and settled and I did a quick meet and greet to my dad, his wife and the doggies, I headed outside to call my hubby.  Apparently they had gone to get gasoline for the van and were on their way.  I asked them to hurry because I was building into a panic and my Ativan was in the car with them.

Once they arrived, everything seemed to run smoothly.  There weren't any arguments or even minor disagreements.  We ate lunch and then moved on to the gift portion of the day.  After we were visiting and I mentioned that it would be really nice to have our holiday celebration in Kearney.  We had talked about doing that this year but with my sister graduating from college, it just wasn't feasible. 

When it seemed like things were wrapping up, I checked the clock and realized that if we left soon, we could still visit with my husband's mom when we stopped in York and make it home in time to pick up the dogs from the doggie hotel. Hugs and goodbyes and we were out. 

Hit York and picked up the car from my mother-in-law.  I took off while my husband and the kids visited with my mother-in-law.I drove - again - by myself, on the interstate.  And I did good!!!

Got home.  Got the dogs.  Got everything back inside and unpacked. Finally, I could relax.

It was a hectic and stressful weekend but I survived.  We all did.  It wasn't perfect but I got to see my family.  My little sister crossed off another milestone in her life.  We were able to give gifts and receive them.  There was laughter and tears with not all the tears being those out of anger or stress or from being upset.

It struck me as familiar

I follow a few blogs that I connect with in regards to my depression and anxiety.  One of them is Anxiety Adventures.

About a week ago, I read an entry that spoke to me on so many levels.  I need to really sit down and dissect my thoughts to it so I can see how they fit into my tangled brain. 

Here are the points (italicized and bold) that really gave me some aha moments:

Downtime is tough for me, as I often fall into the isolation rabbit hole and get kidnapped by anxiety and depression. It’s difficult to predict how I’ll react to downtime -

• Should I try to keep busy and avoid thinking too much?
• Will making plans but failing to keep them cause a shame spiral?
• Will having no plans cause a shame spiral?
• Will no plans keep me relaxed so I feel able to interact with the world?
• Does the answer lie somewhere in between?

For me, I want to say that the answer is somewhere in between.  I don't know where quite yet.

I also really like the term "shame spiral" because I can relate to it and it is such an accurate and descriptive term.  For those of you who've never experienced a shame spiral, here's what mine are like:

1. For whatever reason, I feel as though I've failed.  This can be not completing something I'd intended to do or simply not doing anything.  It can be any type of failure, no matter how big or small.
2. I will overly focus on and obsess about said failure and get worked up.  There will probably be tears and there will definitely be a great deal of negative thoughts of general worthlessness.  There might even be a panic attack.
3. By the time I've hit this part, there is a strong chance that I will be completely useless for the remainder of the day which will only further perpetuate the shame spiral.
4. Bonus round - I might even carry the shame on for multiple days or start reliving past failures and have more shame spirals form. 

Herein lies the trouble, my mind waffles on whether these plans are mandatory, wanted, needed, or time-fillers.

I both love and hate making plans.  Plans are good because I can then actually plan them.  I know what to expect and what is expected of me.  I am prepared for the event/outing/whatever.

However, plans are commitments and promises.   And I really hate breaking commitments and promises.  This means that if I freak out or have an issue and cannot participate in said plan.  That means I've failed and BAM - shame spiral.

(I do want to mention that most of my close friends as well as my husband and the kids understand that this can happen.  While they still may be hurt or disappointed, they are supportive and understanding of me.  My extended-immediate family (parents and siblings) is getting better at it, perhaps due to my blog.) 

Spinning about my head is the recurring thought that I need to maximize my time off. I need to have fun. I need to be productive. I need to have interesting stories to tell once real-life resumes. I need to recommit to my life and find fulfilling activities. I need to be a functioning, contributing member of society.

This starts a potentially vicious cycle of:

1. Plans/objectives
2. Failure
3. Shame spiral
4. Deep depressive episode
5. Isolation from my life
6. Recover period

Of course it can go well and does rather often.  It is when it doesn't go well that I suffer.

I feel like I'm setting myself up for failure but I need to start to realize that I may also be setting myself up for success.  In a perfect/better world, I would just try my best.  I would try my best and actually be content with what I was able to achieve and focus on the achievement instead of the failure.  Sometimes I might not achieve much of anything and that is okay.  I would wade in to the shallow water first instead of just cannon-balling into the deep end.  I would be realistic with my own personal expectations. 

Realistically, I’ll get anxious about failing to accomplish anything that I won’t actually try, then half-heartedly convince myself that I didn’t try so I didn’t fail. 

Really need to stop that one and come to an acceptance that failure is an okay and human thing.  By not beating myself up over a failure that is really quite minor in the big scheme of things, I can hopefully avoid going any further and the "2.  Failure" step I mentioned above. It is just so difficult to do since I've been berating myself over my moments that are unsuccessful. 

Embracing failure as a learning experience would also be helpful.  If I was able to look back on the failure and dissect it so I could figure out what pushed that moment or event over into the failure zone.  This would allow me to avoid those triggers or come up with ways to cope with them.

Christmas with the family 2012, part 2

(If you missed part one, you can read it here.)

Me, my husband, the kids, my brother and his wife have all arrived at my mom and step dad's house for the extended family Christmas celebration.  They'd played a few games, had some snacks and drank some alcohol before we arrived.  Most everyone was in a good mood.

I made the rounds telling people hello and engaging in some brief small talk.  K had to finish her homework, so she headed downstairs to complete it.  It was our agreement since she hadn't wanted to work on it earlier.

The anxiety was lessening but I still felt as though I was teetering on the edge of a breakdown.  Definitely not a fun place to be.  I then had an interaction with my mother that pushed me over the edge.  I don't know if it was because I was really upset by what she said or if it was just that proverbial straw the broke the camels back.

My mom informed me we were getting ready to play another game.  She told me I was in charge of rounding up our immediate family which meant her, my step dad, my husband, the kids, my brother and his wife.  Mom said we needed to wait for my sister-in-law to be done with something - I think she was using the bathroom.  I mentioned that K was finishing her homework and it would be nice to wait for her.  Mom just made some flippant remark that K would just have to miss it.

I think I responded with the "whatever" remark that is so deadly and vague before excusing myself to get some air in the garage.  My eyes were tearing up and tears were threatening to fall but I made it out before that could happen.  My husband was close on my heels and I filled him in.  I was upset/angry/pissed because, to me, my mom was willing to wait for my sister-in-law but not my step daughter.  It was unfair and me, being a mama bear, did not like her cubs getting shafted on the fun.

After talking it out with my husband, getting some fresh air and calming down, I returned to the inside.  I do remember my mom mentioning that she hadn't meant her statement to sound as bitchy as it probably did but I cannot remember if that was before or after I went into the garage. 

The rest of the extended family Christmas seemed to go well.  There were games and food.  We chatted a great deal and shared a lot of laughs.  Once that wound down and the extended family had left, we had our immediate family Christmas.  It was very low-key and relaxing.

Oh, as the extended family part was winding down, my dad called.  We had planned to spend the night at his house but only if we were going to be done at my mom's house at a reasonable time and if he and his wife would still be awake.  It was getting late so I said we would just stay at mom's again.  He was bummed but I told him we'd be over mid-morning on Sunday.

The night finished off and we headed to bed.

And with that, I will sign off.  The final part will be up soonish.

(It's up and you can read it here.)

Christmas with the family 2012, part 1

At least two of my past posts (Bah humbug and Struggling) dealt with what I like to call the weekend from hell or the hectic weekend.  For the weekend from hell, we (me, my husband and the two kids) drive two and a half hours to Omaha on Friday.  On Saturday we celebrate the holidays with my mom's siblings, their children and my grandfather and his girlfriend.  Later that evening, we have our smaller family Christmas with my mom, my step dad, my brother and his wife and me and my family.  Sunday we head to my dad's house for a meal and gifts with my father, his wife, my brother and his wife, my sister and then me and my family.  This all must be accomplished by 2:00 pm so we can be home in time to pick up the dogs from the doggie hotel (Sunday pickups are between 5:00 and 5:30 pm) and return the kids to their mother's house by 6:00 pm.  Hectic!

Add to that I have issues riding in the car for long periods of time.  I get incredibly freaked out and sometimes bump up into a panic attack.  Let's also include that I sometimes have problems in crowds even if I know everyone and/or are related to them.  In addition, there is a certain amount of anxiety involved when I need to don the daughter/granddaughter/niece/cousin persona.

This year there was some added stress since we were also going to go to my sister's college graduation...on Saturday morning.  She's was graduating from the largest college in Nebraska so there were lots of people and a lot of things I didn't have control over.  I wasn't going to miss her getting her college diploma so not going was simply not an option.

(I'm not even going to get into the stress and anxiety that built up during the week prior.)

So, everything on Friday seemed to go just fine.  No major snags and I did really well riding in the van on the way there.  I did take an Ativan prior to the trip and once during.

Saturday things started off okay until I went to take a shower and realized I brought the wrong shirt to go under my vest.  Quick search revealed a Walmart on the way so we were going to leave just a bit earlier and all would be fine.  We got to Lincoln with very little problem.  As we were heading to the location of her graduation we got off track.  Pulled up driving directions on my phone and we were back on track and going just fine.

When we arrived, the lines were HUGE and the parking areas were filling.  My husband and I got a bit snappish with each other.  I had taken an Ativan prior to the trip and was very temped to take another but knew I might need my remaining two later on in the day.  After all, it was only 9:00 am. 

After being directed to a parking lot, I switched into my other shirt and we began the jaunt to the center.  We arrived and spotted my brother, sister-in-law and father rather quickly.  We were lucky to find some seats just behind them.

The ceremony was long and I got a little weepy but the panic didn't set in.  Afterwards, we found my sister and since we had some time to kill, we headed to my sister's apartment.  She rode with us so it was easy.  She was also going to ride with us to her reception site.  Time at her apartment and the ride to the reception went beautifully.  We arrived and I was able to see my step mom for the first time in probably three and a half years.  We chatted some and vowed to stay in touch better down the road. 

The reception continued and was going very well until we were getting ready to leave.  Since my dad had to bring my brother and sister-in-law over to my mom's house, we were trying to come up with the best plan on how to make that happen since he didn't know where their house was located.  I had mentioned giving him directions or just meeting at his house back in Omaha, but he said we could just follow each other.  I said we could do that but would need to meet up with each other since we were parked in different areas.  My dad started explaining things to me and I just lost it.

I couldn't deal with the information and being responsible for it.  Hell, I wasn't even the one driving.  I told him to talk to my husband and walked out.  I needed a break and some air. Apparently my father and husband worked it out so we all took off to our vehicles.  We had a little problem with ours (the sliding door wouldn't open) so it took us a bit longer to reach the meetup area.  When we did arrive, my father was nowhere to be found.  We drove a little bit, looking for him.  No luck.  So I called him and he didn't answer.  I called my brother.  No answer.  I called my sister-in-law and our luck ran out.  My husband kept asking me what we should do and I kept getting more and more anxious and upset.

I've learned that when I'm already having issues (depressed or dealing with anxiety), making decisions is something I am incapable of doing.  I figure it is because I'm already dealing with so much shit going on in my head that anything else just pushes me completely over the edge.  This was one of those times.

Eventually I told him to just pull over until we could reach my dad.  We did after some time and I thought we were figured out.  Nope.  So we talked on the phone again.  We still weren't on the same page.  I was done so I told him we should just head back to Omaha and meet at his house.  He agreed.

Once on the interstate, my husband decided he needed something to drink so he suggested we stop at one of the towns and meet my dad there.  Called dad and he thought that sounded like a great plan so we met at a gas station.  Once everyone did their thing, we went to leave and my dad, instead of following us, took the lead.  Are you kidding me?

My husband was feeling just as frustrated as I was so we just let it be.  We caught up to them right before the exit to my father's house.  And my father took it!  My husband asked me what we should do and I told him to just keep driving.  Immediately, my phone rang and it was my dad.  He said he messed up and they would get right back on the interstate.  They did and we were on the phone and off it for the ride to my mom's house.

I was so glad to get there.  I tried not to let my frustration and anger show to my dad and I know he felt some tension but not all of it.  We hugged it out and I told him we would talk later.

Part two will be up soon.  Just writing this I've just about worked up into the emotions I was feeling that day.  Not cool.

(Part two can be read here and part 3 here.)

Three months/two months

It's the time again.  Time for the check in with how my meds are helping or not.  As of today, I have been on the Zoloft (and Ativan as needed) for three months and the Wellbutrin for two months.  And...

In some ways I feel like I'm sliding backwards which really sucks.  I can deal with standing still for the time being and would love to be making improvement but getting worse, no matter how slight, is not acceptable.  It's not getting bad or even overly noticeable but it is apparent to me and to my husband.  In less than a month I will see Dr. S again and see what he thinks. 

Bah humbug

I desperately wish I was able to explain what it feels like to be me and be in my head.  I try to put it into words and have made some strides towards a decent explanation and/or description but there is still just so many different facets that need further exploration and definition.  I want to do this so people understand me and my issues better.  Ultimately, I want those I care about most to know my triggers and problems so they can avoid them whenever possible and help me through the rough patches without me having to go completely insane first.  I don't do well with asking for help and wish that some people would just realize that I need it at specific times.

This coming weekend is crazy.  (Read this blog entry if you want to know a bit more about the crazy.)  I'm stressed and feeling exceptionally overwhelmed.  I also feel like I'm not getting help from my husband.  Of course, I haven't asked for much help, but the things I have requested of him haven't been completed.  My parents are also putting stress on me.  I don't think they realize it nor have I told them. 

Generally, I love this time of year.  I love the traditions, the food, the general sense of joy and love.  I get to see family members I only see occasionally and spend some real time catching up.  There is fun and games and happiness.  Happiness is the best part. 

But to get there, you have to deal with the planning, the shopping, the baking, the cooking, the cleaning, the stressing, the obsessing.  You might have to travel so you have to pack and make arrangements for someone to care for your pets.  Perhaps you book flights and hotels and rental cars. Selecting the right gifts, staying within a budget, getting time off work only adds to the stress.  All of this planning is what pushes me to the edge. 

Me, the hubby and kids don't make it out of town very often.  Between jobs, money, pets and life, it is difficult to arrange time to visit our families for a weekend.  But when we are able to do that, I struggle to make the most of our time.  We try to make it fair and see our families equally.  But someone always gets their feelings hurt or feels like they are being tossed aside in favor of the other parent.  And then they tell me about it and I feel guilty and hurt. 

It's like I'm unable to do anything right.

I don't enjoy the time I get to spend with my family.  It isn't fun for me because I'm too worried about making sure I do my part and make the most of the event and spend equal time with everyone.  I try to make sure that my husband and kids are having a good time and that their needs are being met.  I neglect myself and what I want.  I do what is expected of me and fill the set role for that moment.  I try to be the loving daughter and doting granddaughter.  The fun cousin and caring niece have to show up as well.  Let's not forget super-wife and the non-evil stepmother roles as well. 

I'm fully aware I put a great deal of this on myself but I don't know how to NOT let it get to me.  Maybe I'll figure it out someday.  Maybe I'll get through the weekend without being a bitch to someone (more than likely my husband) or having a crying jag. 

But I need to get a move on.  I still need to pack, wrap gifts, load the car, take the dogs to be boarded, print off driving directions, get my sister a graduation gift, straighten the house, possibly do a load or two of laundry and what seems like a zillion other things.  I also need to shower and continue to try and get over this cold.  Easy peasy, right?

Struggling

This week is very busy and hectic for me because we are heading out of town for the weekend.  This isn't some leisurely trip.  It is the weekend of craziness.  We will celebrate Christmas with my mom's side of the family, my mom and step dad, and then my dad and his wife.  My sister is also graduating from college.  With the exception of the graduation, we do this every year.  I know I will be stressed and on edge and I also know that we will get through it.

However, I didn't anticipate getting sick.

I have a horrible cold - aches and pains, cough, raw throat, itchy ears, fever, chills and just general unpleasantness.  There is so much I need to get done this week but I know I need to take care of myself and get better.

Sigh.

So I'm trying.  Been drinking hot tea and sleeping a great deal.  This all started on Sunday and today, I don't feel better but I also don't feel worse.  I will take that as a win.  As of tomorrow, I will need to start getting stuff together.  I will still baby myself to a certain extent but my obligations must come first.

Here's to make it through this week and the weekend to come with no major issues or breakdowns.

Phone phobia

The other day, my phone rang.  It was someone I know but I choose to not answer.  My husband and stepkids were questioning me about why I didn't answer.  I tried to just blow it off with some lame excuse.  They didn't let me get away with it so I tried to break it down and explain it.

I'd never done this before.  But, I'm now glad that I can put my fear into words.

I don't have an actual fear of talking on the phone.  My fear is that I'm caught by surprise and don't know how to make a conversation flow when I feel ambushed by the call.  More often than not, I will ignore a call and listen to the voicemail.  (For the record, I hate it when someone calls and doesn't leave a message.  If you do that, I generally won't call you back unless you call multiple times.)  Once I hear the voicemail, I know what the caller wanted and am better prepared for the phone conversation.  I will then call them back.

And that is for numbers that I do know.  Forget about me answering if your number is not in my phone. 

I'm generally okay with calls from my parents, sister or brother.  My husband and stepkids are always on the answer list.  My best friends will not be ignored.  But anyone else, more than likely you will not reach me on a first call.

Perhaps it is childish or stupid but it is how I work.  It is one of those little tricks I have developed to help me best handle life and the situations it may toss in my direction. 

Bad night turns to bad day

I wrote about the bad night I recently experienced.  It sucked.  But that was only the beginning since the bad night turned into a bad day that had an unexpected surprise.  Lovely.

I was able to get a bit of sleep after I posted my blog.  Didn't get nearly enough but some is better than none.  My brain and thoughts were still going completely bonkers so doing much of anything was difficult.  But I had obligations that day so I did my best even though it was rough going.

Li, Lo and I have a weekly get together on Thursday evenings.  Mostly we do some witchy/pagan/learning/discussion-type of thing.  Every two months we have a divination day where we get a chance to practice on each other and also get a reading our two of our very own.  It's really nice. 

By start time (5:00 pm) my brain was still a murky mess.  I'd taken an Ativan but it wasn't helping.  It was really getting annoying and almost even scary.  Because of how I was feeling, I decided it was best to not do any tarot readings for the girls since interpreting something - anything - was not going to be possible.  Focus was also not happening so most forms of divination were out for me.  I decided I would go ahead and work on some Numerology since there isn't much interpretation involved early on in the reading.  It made sense and still allowed me to play with my best friends.

I was hanging in there.  I worked on the Numerology and listened while Lo did a reading for Li.  I even added some interpretations of my own.  We took a small break then so I decided to use the restroom.

This is when things went wonky and the unwelcome surprise made an appearance.

I used the restroom, washed my hands, dried them and my mind went totally blank.  Blank really isn't the right word for it since there was still the racing thoughts screaming in my brain, but I totally forgot where I was.  I took a couple of deep breaths and stared at myself in the mirror.  It clicked that I was at the library.  However, I had no clue what I was doing at the library.  I walked out of the bathroom and looked around, hoping something would click.  And it did.  But those moments were terrifying.  It maybe lasted twenty seconds but that was too long.

I have never experienced something like this.  I do sometimes forget what I was going to say.  It is like the thought is there and then I go to speak it and poof! it's gone.  I also have been known to walk into a room only to forget the reason for entering it.  Those are small events that happen to a lot of people.  I feel they might happen more often to me but I really have nothing to base that on.

I did make it back to our meeting room and shared, briefly, the issue with Li and Lo.  They were obviously concerned but I needed to leave.  There were offers to follow me but I said I would be okay.  I hoped that was the truth.  I made it to my destination and texted both of them so they knew I was safe and sound.

Later that night, I shared the incident with my husband.  It worried him as well.  I told him that if it happened again, I would share it with Dr. S when I go back in January.  If it happens more than once, I promised that I would contact the doctor immediately and get in to see him ASAP.

The hubby and I also talked about how I was doing.  He feels that I'm backsliding a little and I agree.  I'm not where I was before going back on the medication, but I've had some decrease in patience and increases in crying and being snappish.

The Zoloft should be fully integrated into my system by now so the dosage is doing all that it can for me.  I've been on the Wellbutrin for roughly six weeks and am still not noticing any difference.  Part of me wishes I would have asked Dr. S to just keep me on the Zoloft for a while before changing anything.  It's difficult to tell if the Wellbutrin is having an adverse effect or just not working.  Maybe I just haven't given it enough time.

The plan is to just keep taking my meds as prescribed as long as there are no further incidents or a noticeable, further backslide into why I know to be my symptoms of depression.  If there is a change for the worse or I have another blankout issue, I will see the doctor immediately.

Freaking out...continued

So I'm sending the link today.  I'm late but I'm doing it.  This is what I'm sending my select audience:

I'm finally to a place where I want to share my blog with a select few people.  Congrats on winning the prize.

I want you to know that you are under no obligation to read it - now or in the future, you don't have to comment on the posts, you don't need to tell me you are reading it or not, you don't need to follow it...basically, it is your call what to do with this information.

I will, however, welcome comments and questions - both on the blog and in person.  I would love it if you read it and follow it.  I am sending you the link because you are someone I honor, cherish and respect.  I also trust you.

My blog focuses on my on-going battle with depression and other forms of mental illness.  I'm not always the best at expressing myself vocally and feel much more competent and comfortable with the written word.  If you choose to read my blog, you will understand me a bit better...or at least that is my hope.

Enjoy it, or not...remember this is your call.  Soon I hope to share my blog with more people.  But until I'm ready for that, you are my audience.  Thank you.

Love,
Shanda

I'm sending this to my husband, sister, mother, step father, Lo and Li.  

Deep breath...and...send... 

Freaking out

When I started my blog, I knew that I would eventually share it.  First with those I'm closest with and then, in time, with acquaintances and those I'm associated with via other forms of social media.  I want to share it so those I know can understand me and my struggles a little bit more.  It is also an easier way to open up the lines of communication to ask questions and get answers. 

In the long run, I would love it if my blog could make a difference for someone.  Maybe that person feels alone and stumbles upon this and realizes he/she is not.  Perhaps a family member who is trying to understand a loved ones thoughts and feelings about his/her depression will read something here that helps them garner greater understanding.  Maybe it will smooth some roads.  If it doesn't do any of that, I'm fine because when it all comes down to it, this blog is for me and my journey.

I'm freaking out because I originally told myself that I would invite some people to view my blog once there were fifty posts.  That number was passed and I felt a bit of disappointment in myself because I didn't share it.  Truth be told, I wasn't ready.  There was a chance I would never be ready but I needed to get my thoughts, fears and information out there.  I set the goal of sixty posts and even told my husband that I would share once I hit that magic number. 

That magically numbered post was the previous one.  This is sixty-one.

Tomorrow I'm sending the link to at least five people.