Understanding what it means to be an introvert

I'm an introvert.  I never really thought about it because I can rock a crowd but it's all a show and I'm wearing a mask.  But I now realize that I am most definitely in introvert.  What about you?  Introvert or extrovert?

This link is 27 problems only introverts would understand shows some of the introvert issues.  The following are especially true for me:

1. When you need to take breaks and recharge after socializing for too long.
7. Having visitors stay with you is a nightmare, because it means you have to be on at ALL TIMES.
8. When people stop inviting you places because you keep canceling plans.
9. Too many social obligations + no alone time = a total grump.
15. That feeling of dread that washes over you when the phone rings and you’re not mentally prepared to chat.
17. When you have an awesome night out, but have to deal with feeling exhausted for days after the fact.
18. When people pressure you to be more social, whether you like it or not.
19. When you’re really excited to go out, but those good feelings don’t last long enough.
20. When you’re trying to get something done at work, but you can’t, because everyone else is talking.
24. When someone interrupts your thoughts, and you get irrationally angry.
26. And when you need to be completely alone so you can recharge and get back to being awesome.

I am an introvert

 

http://www.geeksaresexy.net/2013/07/15/a-guide-to-understanding-introverts-comic/

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. 

Mood swing

This makes me giggle.

I have mood swings. Hell, I'm a woman.  And I'm a woman who gets PMS.  Add on the depression/anxiety combo and duh, mood swings will happen. 

But this is perfection.

It is me:

• during a mood swing
• when someone points out that I'm obviously having some sort of mood issue
• when someone elects to rehash my mood swing. 

Assholes.

I wonder if it would be appropriate for me to put on my pouty face, cross my arms over my chest, and hop onto a swing to ride out my next mood swing.   Maybe I will give it a try next time.  Might not do much for anyone else but I'll be the crazy lady trying to keep a straight face as she swings and soars through the air.

Best and worst things to say

I found this list a few days ago.  I've read through most of it.  I have mixed thoughts about the list, feeling some are absolutely dead on while many others are so far off that I cringed.  For the most part, the best things to say list was accurate.  The intro to the best things to say section nailed it for me:

It is most tempting, when you find out someone is depressed, to attempt to immediately fix the problem. However, until the depressed person has given you permission to be their therapist (as a friend or professional), the following responses are more likely to help the depressed.

The things that didn't make me feel worse are words which 1) acknowledge my depression for what it is (Not 'it's just a phase') 2) give me permission to feel depressed (Not 'but why should you be sad?')

The worst section was prefaced with this:

Some people trivialize depression (often unintentionally) by dropping a platitude on a depressed person as if that is the one thing they needed to hear. While some of these thoughts have been helpful to some people (for example, some find that praying is very helpful), the context in which they are often said mitigates any intended benefit to the hearer. Platitudes don't cure depression.

If you share you life with someone with depression, read through the lists.  Maybe you've said some of the worst things to say and maybe you haven't.  It doesn't matter now.  Going forward, be mindful of your thinking and your words. 

If you don't know anyone with depression, you probably will at some point in your life.  The list is good for everyone to read so give it a shot.

This is how depression looks on me

This is me, a week or so ago.  And this is what depression looks like on me. 

Am I happy? 

Am I sad? 

Am I anxious or nervous or crying? 

No.

I'm also not putting on a mask. 

The expression on my face is exactly how I felt in the moment even though I was going through a tough time and having a massive spike in my depression.  Perhaps 20 minutes later, I would have been smiling, my eyes crinkled in joy.  Or I could have been sobbing into my pillow.

Depression isn't always depicted by tears or sorrow written all over my face.  I don't have to be curled into the fetal position, rocking myself for comfort to indicate I'm depressed.   I can be smiling and laughing and seemingly enjoying the moment and still have the dark clouds swarming through my mind. 

What I'm trying to point out is that you cannot tell by looking at me, at any given moment, if I am struggling.  My facial expressions and body posture can clue you in to what is going on within my mind but neither are definite correlations to what is going on in there.  Crying doesn't automatically equal depression, just as laughter doesn't always equal happiness.  Just because I'm sleeping more than normal is not a warning that I'm about to crash. 

If you want to know how I'm doing, ask me. 

P.S. The same goes when I'm having a panic attack or in a panic mode.  You cannot tell by looking at me.  Changes in my body language, mood, expressions mean very little to indicate what may or may not be going on inside my mind.  

It's not you...it's me

I have issues with this statement.  On one hand, I agree.  If it is important enough you can usually find a way.

However, as someone who has clinical depression, wicked anxiety problems and a smidgen of agoraphobia, I may love you more than anything else in this world but be unable to be there for you since I am too busy battling the demons in my head.  It doesn't mean that I don't care.  It just means I have to make myself the priority.  Please do not be upset or offended. 

Besides, if I'm dealing with any of those issues, I won't be very supportive or fun to be around.  I won't be able to focus on you or our time together.  I will not be good company.  It's likely I will be snappish, moody and bitchy. 

Sometimes just keeping myself sane and not tumbling into the abyss that is my own mind is literally all I can do.  It is the only thing I can do.  It is the only thing I have enough energy to try to handle. 

I don't like it and get downright pissed when it affects my life and the lives of my friends and family.  But it is not something I can control.  I cannot plan around it.  I cannot set it aside momentarily while I do something else.  It is all-consuming and exhausting.

Really, it's not you...it's me.

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

Smart phone sanity

Many people are tethered to their mobile phones.  They cannot go for long stretches of time without checking it for notifications.  They rely on it to answer questions, communicate with friends and family, blog, email.  It can help them obtain driving directions, do their banking and it provides entertainment of all sorts. Text and tweet.  Calendars, calculators, voice notes and cameras   And those are just some of the things that mobile phones can do today.  Oh, and it can also be used to make phone calls. 

Anyway, I am one of those people. 

My phone is my lifeline.  It is rarely out of my sight.  I feel lost without it.  I cherish it and I take care of it. 

I use it for all those things I listed above and a lot more.  One of the things I use it for is to help me in dealing with my depression and anxiety.  When I'm feeling overwhelmed or a panic attack is building, I turn to my phone.  Usually I will listen to music or play games.  By doing this, I can accomplish many things.

1.  I look busy when using my phone so people will generally leave me alone.  This gives me the opportunity to calm down and just take a break from the world.  I can do this in a group of people and escape without having to flee from the room.  People are always looking at their phones, so I don't draw a lot of unwelcome attention.
2. It is a distraction.  If I can actively engage my brain in some sort of activity, I can somewhat subdue the cycling of thoughts.  This distraction also helps to decrease the volume on the hateful and negative words that tumble around in my brain. The random games on my phone provide the perfect distractions.
3. I can find the positive in my phone.  Between photos of loved ones, inspirational quotes and soothing music, I can usually find some shred of peace.  There is always something there that can combat the negativity with a positive.  Something in my phone is always guaranteed to evoke a smile.
4. I can blog or make notes about what I'm experiencing.  It is so therapeutic for me to express myself in writing.  It also engages my brain and offers a distraction.  I also tend to work out my issues by writing them out. 
5. It helps with the confusion and muddled thoughts.  I still have some issues remembering things at times.  It is like the word is just out of range and taunting me.  Or I cannot remember the name of the actress who played Piper on "Charmed."  A quick search of the Internet and I'm no longer driving myself crazy struggling to fish the correct answer out of the fog.  It provides me a release from the fixation that can possibly become an obsessed focus when I should really be more involved with the present moment.

So the next time you see someone on their phone in a social situation, don't automatically decide they are being rude or are bored.  They might be a person like me who simply needs a brief escape from her own brain.  Maybe it is the lifeline that they grasp with every last bit of strength and sanity they have left at that given moment.  Perhaps they are just trying to hold themselves together so they can chalk up this social experience up as a win instead of the typical loss.  Give them the benefit of the doubt.  I know I will appreciate it.

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.

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?

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. 

Crabby and impatient

Earlier this evening, my hubby and I were looking at some of the Black Friday advertisements online.  We often look at these ads for the good buys on thing we need and gifts for the holidays.  I hadn't felt well all day and he was tired and just in a lazy mindset.  However, we decided to look at them anyway.

This was a small mistake.

We used my laptop so I was opening pages, scrolling and whatnot.  He was leaning back on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and cuddling with the dogs.  I asked him to tell me when he was ready to go to the next page and he did, just not always in a clear manner that indicated he was definitely ready to move on.  This caused some impatience on my part since I was doing the mousing.  He also couldn't read many of the words on the ads because he was so far away from the screen.  He would ask me what something was.

Finally, I got crabby...maybe even bitchy...and snapped at him slightly because he was fully capable of sitting up to see better or running the mouse on his own.

That was when I realized I needed an Ativan.  I excused myself and took one using the place it under your tongue method that is encouraged to speed up the medicine getting into your bloodstream.  For the record, it really doesn't taste bad.

When I reentered the living room, he asked me what I'd gone to do.  I told him nothing and we went about browsing the ads some more.  There were some more instances of crabby so I told him that I had taken an Ativan because I realized I was being impatient and crabby towards him.  He apologized.  I apologized.

In the end, it went better.  Neither of us was in the right mindset to be looking at the ads in the first place so it only progressed from bad to worse.  Talking it through helped and the Ativan made a difference.  

Validation

I feel like I'm going to start to annoy people with asking "Do you think I'm better?" because I really want to know what other people think.  Deep down, I know it only truly matters what I feel but there are so many people in my life that have been affected by my depression and anxiety that I want to know if they are seeing an improvement.  Maybe I need to put it out there to those I'm closest with that I want them to tell me if they have noticed any changes or improvements and to let me know if they see any in the future.

In other news, I'm laughing.  That seems like such a silly and random statement but there have been very few moments of true, deep laughter in the past year.  I'm not saying that I never laughed, but it was rare and something really had to strike me as utterly hilarious.  Now I find myself laughing at typical things like lines in a comedy show, my dogs in their cute matching doggie pajamas, my husband being a goofball. 

Oh, and the smiles...they are real and genuine.  I'm not putting on those fake-ass masks and pretending that I'm happy just so people will leave me alone.  I am truly feeling good.  And when I'm less than happy, I don't fake it for the sake of others.  I'm being the real me and letting my emotions show, even if they are the scary ones.

I'm also putting myself out there some by initiating social activities instead of sitting back and waiting for an invitation.  I'm feeling a bit more comfortable and confident with myself again.  I'm excited about getting out and doing things.  I'm not going crazy and scheduling multiple engagements a day, but I'm going out at least twice a week. 

I've missed this. 

I've missed me.

First weekend with the munchkins

For the record, neither Z nor K could really be considered a munchkin anymore but still, they are.  Z is 16 and K is 13.  They are my step kids but I love them as my own.

In a way, the kids have also been suffering with me through the ups and downs of my depression battle.  The person they first met has changed a lot, some for the good and some for the bad, in the past, well, almost 10 years.  They've experienced all of the moods and issues and this past year has probably been one of the worst for them.  It's not so much that I was depressed but it was that I was moody as hell and had virtually no patience for anything.  With the kids been teens, they were having their own issues that further made me just a wee annoyed.

To be fair, I never took my frustrations out on either of them directly, but my moodiness and impatience affected them in many ways.  I have been rather withdrawn from our life as a family of four...hell, I've been pretty removed from most of my relationships with the exception of a few very close friends and my husband.  My parents, siblings and other extended family have also felt the neglect from me but since the kids are a bigger part of my life, they probably noticed it a great deal more.  Neither has really said anything to me, or to my husband as far as I know, but that doesn't mean they haven't noticed or made a comment to someone else. 

(I'm sure I will blog about my relationship with each of them at a later date and it really isn't overly necessary at this point.)

Anyway, this was the first weekend we've had them since I've been back on my meds.  Granted, I'd only been on them for twelve days once they got here but still, I was medicated.  I think it went well.  I was more actively involved with family times and didn't totally hide out in the bedroom.  I was in the bedroom a great deal but made several trips out to the more common areas of our home to talk with the kids.  They also spent some time with me in the bedroom when we were chatting and watching a football game.  I also didn't lose my temper about anything.  We had a couple of issues but I was able to deal with them without blowing up to my husband in private or bursting into tears, also in private.

I really feel like I'm moving forward towards a much healthier me.  I just keep going forward and doing everything I can to keep a positive and optimistic attitude. 

What's wrong?

Whenever things are less than rosy, or less that what other people perceive as rosy, I get asked the dreaded question: "What's wrong?"

I hate this question.

First, I hate it because I don't know how to respond.  I know this question is something asked by those I'm closer to than just basic acquaintances.  I know this because basic acquaintances or just people ask "How are you?"  It's a common courtesy question.  But still, I don't know how to respond to it.

Do you want me to be honest?  Do you really want to hear what is wrong and/or how I'm truly feeling?

Some people might.  But it is those same people that I do not know HOW to explain the "wrong" to.

In hindsight I can often put my feelings and the chaos that is swirling around in my brain into words that most people can comprehend.  Should I come back to you and tell you then?  Even if it is hours, days, or weeks later?

However, in that moment that I cannot find the sentiments to express myself correctly. 

So I say things like "nothing" or "it's a depression thing" to which most people take as enough of an answer.  To the "How are you?" I give the standard answer of "fine," clearly lying my ass off.  I know this and the person who asked knows this. 

Do I want people to dig?  Do I want my friends and family to probe further and get me to talk or explain?

Sometimes.  But mostly, no.  When depression is kicking my ass, I don't want to talk about it.  I cannot talk about it.  If I do, I feel like I give in and it gets to win for a brief moment.  I also find that I start to ramble and try too hard to explain that I make little sense or only cause more questions to be asked.  Or, the worst, I scare the person.  I scare them because they get a glimpse into my head.  I scare them because I sound like I do not want to live.  I scare them and their reactive concern is too much for me to handle. 

Second, I hate it because I hear it a lot for those I see the most.  The wording itself lends to the idea that something is indeed wrong.  Sometimes I'm just quiet.  Sometimes I'm reflective, or tired, or sick, or have a headache, or am wrapped up in something I'm doing.  But I hear "What's wrong?" because the person asking is concerned.  I appreciate concerned and am so thankful that I am loved by so many people but I feel like some are waiting for me to crack.  That at some point in the near future they will ask me that question and I will totally lose it.  It's almost like that question is setting me up for a breakdown.

So while I do appreciate the concern and I do love that people are genuinely interested in how I'm doing, please don't assume that I'm always deep in the throes of depression.  Don't wonder if I'm nearing the end of my rope.  Maybe think of different ways to inquire as to how I'm doing.  Perhaps asking what I've been doing lately would work.  Inquire about my day.  Or, on occasion, ask me how the depression is going.  Ask me specific questions.  Those are generally easier to answer and can make segueing into deeper conversation about my mental health less painful for both of us.