Author: Aimee Eddy

RECOVERY FROM CATARACT SURGERY

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I survived my first cataract surgery. It was pretty easy
compared to other surgeries I have been through. I think the
best part was relaxing the week of Thanksgiving. For each of my
nine other surgeries I found different ways to cope with my
recovery, and with this one I also found a way to cope.


The Sunday before my surgery my husband and I spent the
night at my parents’ house so they could drive me to the surgery
center. We enjoyed spending time with my parents.
At the surgery center the nurse put the needle in for an IV
and then hooked up the IV line. The IV line had a leak in it and
blood started dripping down my hand. The nurse called another
nurse in. One nurse held the needle in my hand while the other
tried to unhook the line. It pulled on the needle, and it hurt.
After several tries and lots of blood, they were able to unhook
the line and put a new one in. Afterwards they had to clean me
up and get me a new blanket.


I heard the doctors talk throughout my surgery, but I
couldn’t understand what they were saying. Before I knew it,
they were taking me to the recovery room and my left eye and
face were numb. I had a patch over my eye, and everything looked
blurry with my other eye. When I got home, I took a long nap.

That night I just listened to the TV. I couldn’t see out
of my patched eye, and I couldn’t see well with my other one.
The patch was so big I couldn’t fit the mask of my CPAP machine
over it, but luckily I was drowsy enough to fall asleep easily
that night.


I got the patch off the next day, thank God. I had to go to
the eye doctor to get the left lens popped out of my glasses. I
no longer needed a lens for my left eye. With one eye recovering
from surgery and one eye still having a cataract I was very
unbalanced. With the surgery eye everything looked brighter and
clearer than the right eye. It didn’t take much for me to get
dizzy.


With my other surgeries I coped by doing woodburnings,
adult coloring books, and writing. With my uneven vision I can’t
color or woodburn. I haven’t done any writing until now. I have
been coping by watching Netflix, talking to my support team,
spending time with my husband, and enjoying the week off.

We spent Thanksgiving at my parents’ house. When I tried to
pour a drink into my glass, it ended up on the table. I tried
again and my poor dad got a lap full of apple cider. My husband
told me that I am no longer allowed to pour drinks.
My spirits have been good. It’s been a long time since I
have been able to enjoy having Thanksgiving week off. I can’t

wait until December 8 to have my right eye done. I’m ready for
balanced vision and to be able to see well without glasses.
I’m standing in the light of recovery being able to see the
light better.

FIRST THANKSGIVING WEEK OFF IN THIRTY YEARS

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When you work in retail, holidays can be really hard. Thanksgiving week in a grocery store means a mad rush of last-minute shoppers. It takes a lot out of retail workers. Despite everything, the workers must put on a smile. It’s not easy.

For thirty years I have worked Thanksgiving week, for a couple years in the bakery and for many years as a cashier. In the bakery there were endless orders of pies, breads, and rolls. As a cashier it’s lines of people, lifting frozen turkeys, grumpy customers, and large cart loads of groceries. The customers tell you at least time will go by fast and it does, but it wears you out. My anxiety is high during the holidays. I try to work fast to get customers out, all the while having sore shoulders, an achy back, and a tired body. The never-ending lines make me want to hide, but I put on a smile and I talk with my customers.

I can’t tell you how many customers come in on the last day and buy a frozen turkey, expecting it to be thawed by the next day. Many customers wait until the very last minute to buy the fixings for their Thanksgiving dinner. They are in such a rush to get everything done that they become grumpy and they take it out on the retail workers. I love being a cashier and working with people, but I hate working the holidays.

This year will be the first time in thirty years I will have Thanksgiving week off. Monday was my cataract surgery on my left eye, and I took Sunday off to spend the night at my parents so they could drive me to my surgery. My co-workers asked me if I was nervous or scared, but I’m not. I have had a lot more major surgeries than this one. Having surgery just means I get to spend Thanksgiving week relaxing and without anxiety attacks. I’m more than willing to let my husband wait on me.

A couple of friends are providing us with some suppers while I’m recovering so I won’t have to worry about cooking. Thanksgiving leftovers will help with some meals also. My body gets to have a break from work. I will be able to write my newsletter and get Christmas cards ready to send out. I can also get a start on Christmas movies while I’m off. I had the lens popped out of my glasses for the left eye so I could see. I’m able to see well right after they took the patch off my left eye the day after surgery.

Even though it’s because of surgery I’ll be off for Thanksgiving week, I’m excited. I not able to bend or lift, but that just gives me an excuse to sit around in my PJs and be lazy. Who can say no to PJ days? I sure don’t get many of them while I’m working. I work, then after work I take my husband for rides, and my days off are appointments. That doesn’t leave much time to just be lazy. Now I have an excuse.

This Thanksgiving week  you also can slow down and be grateful for the gifts of this holiday. Enjoy a good meal provided by God, enjoy family and friends, and be thankful for all the wonderful things you have. Don’t forget to have a PJ day or two.

This Thanksgiving I’m thankful for a week off and for surgeons who can give me the gift of better sight. I will have a new look at life soon. This Thanksgiving I will be relaxing in the light of recovery.

CATARACT SURGERY

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Surgeries are a hard part of life. No one likes them and they bring lots of anxiety and fear. Going under anesthesia is scary. There’s always the fear that you might not wake up, or something may go wrong while you’re unconscious. Then there is the fear of being cut open. All of these brings on anxiety. Are there any surgeries a person could be excited about?

My first surgery was when I was four years old. I had my tonsils removed. Back then they kept you in the hospital overnight. I remember being scared and a nurse cradling me. I loved going home and eating popsicles and ice cream. My eight other surgeries happened when I was an adult. I became nervous and anxious with each one. I think the worst surgery was back surgery. I couldn’t bend, twist, or lift anything for three weeks. Plus, I got an infection in my surgery site.

The second worst surgery was a double mastectomy. I had drains so I couldn’t lift my arms without pain, and I had to learn to love myself as a woman without breasts.

Before each of my surgeries I dreaded them and I worried about them. Fears plagued my mind and that caused anxiety. During a couple of my surgeries, I stopped breathing and they had to give me oxygen. That made going under anesthesia even more scary. Later I learned I stopped breathing because I have sleep apnea. I learned that the easy part of my surgeries was sleeping through them. The hard part was recovery. Recovery involved restrictions, some infections, pain, fatigue, and boredom. It took a lot out of me to recover from my surgeries.

November 24 I am going to have cataract surgery on my left eye, and on December 8 I will have it done on my right eye. Instead of fear and anxiety, I am excited. I will be mildly sedated, and I’m not too worried that I will stop breathing. The surgery is minor. I have been wearing glasses since the fourth grade. Over the years my lenses have gotten thicker, making the glasses uncomfortable. With this surgery I will no longer have to wear glasses all the time. I will only need them for reading. This is the best part of the surgery. I’m so excited I bought a strap at Dollar Tree to carry my future reading glasses around my neck.

When I went to my pre-op appointment, the lady who scheduled my surgery said, “You only need to take two days off, but you can’t bend or lift heavy items for a week.”

I looked at her. “I’m a cashier.”

She looked at me. “Two days should be good.”

“I lift heavy cases of pop, dog food and groceries. I bend to scan things and to put things under the cart,” I replied.

“Ah, then you need to take a week off work,” she said.

The good thing is it’s the week of Thanksgiving that I will be off. I won’t have to worry about the last-minute frozen turkeys and the rush of customers to get their dinner fixings. Instead of dealing with the stress of long lines, I will be relaxing at home.

When I told the assistant team leader about needing the week off because I can’t lift heavy items or bend, she said, “Why can’t you bend? Will your eye fall out?”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

Instead of dealing with anxiety and fear of my cataract surgery, I am excited. I can’t wait to see without glasses except for when I read. It’s a dream come true. I won’t have to worry about smudged, fogged up, and wet glasses. I won’t have to push them up my nose all day long. I can’t wait. Being able to see better is a double plus.

Not all surgeries are bad ones. Some bring promises of a new look at the world around you or the ability to do things you’ve never done before. If you’re feeling anxious about your surgery, use coping techniques like journaling, grounding, and relaxation techniques to get you through. You can also cope with recovery by doing crafts, coloring in adult coloring books, watching movies, and turning to your support team.

Seeing the positive side of my cataract surgery helps me gleam in the light of recovery.

MISCONCEPTIONS AND DEMENTIA

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Dementia is an awful disease. It robs people of their memory, of themselves, and of their independence. It affects not only the person who has it, but also the people who love him or her. It is a hard illness for a caregiver to deal with, and it is devastating for the one with the illness. Like with any illness, it comes with well-meant intentions and misconceptions of others.

I have a loved one who was diagnosed with dementia. His illness has taken me on an emotional roller coaster. I have turned to friends and my therapist for support. I have found that a lot of people understand, and some don’t. It angers me when people joke about it or have misconceptions about this illness. I want my loved one to be taken seriously and to be treated like a person with feelings, but sometimes that doesn’t happen.

I told a customer of mine that my loved one had dementia, and his reply was, “I’m a little demented too.”

I found his joke insulting. Dementia is not a joke and should be taken seriously. I wanted to yell at him for his comment, but since he was a customer, I just smiled.

I’ve gone to public places and have seen people my loved one and I know. They say hi to me, but not a word to him. I found it odd. Later the people who ignored him told me they didn’t know if he remembered them, so they avoided him. First, my loved one is in the early stages and still remembers people. Second, even if he had forgotten them, he shouldn’t be ignored. He has feelings and can still get hurt. Even if you must reintroduce yourself, you should still acknowledge the person with dementia. It angers me when they ignore him. He’s already feeling bad about having this illness, and now people are avoiding him.

Some people say to me, “He seems fine to me.”

He may seem fine in public or when he’s around people for a little bit, but they aren’t around him enough to see his struggles. I see his frustration when he can’t remember something he told me a minute ago. I must set him reminders on Alexa and yet sometimes he still forgets. I tell him the same things over and over again. I remind him to do simple things like when to eat, when to take a shower, when to put deodorant on, and when to take medicine. He may seem fine to the public eye, but he’s struggling behind closed doors.

Some people told me, “I forget things too because of old age.”

 Memory loss because of old age and forgetfulness are totally different than dementia. I’m a very forgetful person. I write lists and then forget where I put them. Dementia is much more than forgetting a list. It’s forgetting how to get to a place you’ve been to most of your life. It’s forgetting the same thing continuously. I have told my loved one ten times within minutes what time I get out of work for him to forget again. Not only is his memory fading, but a part of him is also fading. Parts of his personality are changing and it’s only going to get worse the further his illness progresses. I just pray he’ll never forget me, but it is a possibility.

I’m working hard to dispel the misconceptions of dementia and to be there at my loved one’s side. On the positive side, I have people who have put my loved one on their prayer chains at church. I have had people share their experiences and give me some excellent advice.

What a person with dementia needs is kindness, love, understanding, and patience. What a caregiver needs are love, support, and understanding. The caregiver goes through this illness with their loved one. They are feeling a lot of emotions, taking on a lot of responsibility, and pushing through each day. Put your misconceptions aside and listen, offer to make a meal for the caregiver, offer to sit with the caregiver’s loved one, offer to help with doing dishes or some other chore, and be willing to listen and give moral support. For the one struggling, don’t ignore them, spend some time with him or her, be patient, give hugs, and be willing to listen. To find out more on how to connect with someone with dementia read Dementia: Keys to Connecting and Caring for Your Loved One: Wert, Beverly J: 9798270166731: Amazon.com: Books.

I stand at my loved one’s side, supporting him, defending him, loving him, and being patient. Making each day special and taking care of myself helps me sit in the light of recovery.

LET’S TALK ABOUT MENTAL ILLNESS

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We talk openly about cancer, diabetes, heart disease, eye diseases, and many others. We never judge people with physical illnesses. We know people have no control over these sicknesses, but it’s different with mental illness. Mental illness is not talked about as openly as physical illnesses. Many times when it’s discussed, it is met with judgment and stigma. Because of this many people do not understand mental illness and those who have it hide it fearing they will be judged.

When you have diabetes, you take medicine to maintain it, you change your diet, and each day you take care of yourself to keep this illness under control. Mental illness is not much different. With mental illness you take medicine to control the symptoms, you go to therapy to learn how to manage your illness, and you take care of yourself with coping techniques to keep your illness under control. Like diabetes you have a plan of action and care. Mental illness is like any other illness, yet the sickness is treated differently.

When I was a child and teen, mental illness wasn’t talked about. I didn’t know what it was or that I had it. I just knew something was wrong with me. I didn’t find out about mental illness until I found a pamphlet about depression at college. Even when I learned more about mental illness, I was afraid to tell people that I struggled with it. I’ve heard people talk about people with mental illness as being crazy, and I’ve seen TV shows that made fun of the illness. I didn’t want to be judged, so I put on a smile when I was out in public and fell apart when I was at home.

As an adult, I was hospitalized for my illness. After I was released, I returned to work only to be met by stigma and judgment. A co-worker asked me if I was in the looney bin. When I returned to my job, I worked in the bakery department. Every time I got a simple cut, they asked me if I did it myself. When I got upset at work, I had a box cutter in my hand, and the bakery manager assumed I hurt myself with it. I was forced to sit in an office to talk to crisis, a program that helps people who are really struggling, when I didn’t need to. Later the store manager said that managers could treat me as they needed to because I was a danger to employees and customers. If I’d had problems with any other illness, I would not have endured such judgment.

We judge mental illness because it’s a sickness of the mind. It’s hard to understand when the mind doesn’t function properly, but if we talk about mental illness more frequently and openly, then we can break the stigma. To talk about this sickness, we must also educate society. That’s why I write this blog post and work for One Life Project. I want people to see that mental illness is like any other illness, and we should put an end to the stigma.

If you struggle with mental illness, talk about it with your friends, family, and co-workers. Give them information about your illness or invite them to a therapy session. When I was dating my husband, he went to therapy with me to learn about my illness and how to help me. Let’s push schools and workplaces to talk frequently about mental illness. We need to stop judging mental illness and see it as equal to physical illness.

Many people are struggling in silence with mental illness because they are afraid if they tell someone, they will be judged. If we talk about mental illness without stigma, then more strugglers will ask for the help they need, and we can save many lives. I urge you to stop judging and start speaking out about mental illness.

I work hard to fight the stigma that surrounds mental illness so that some day we can talk about it as openly as we do any other illness. I now openly talk with others about my sickness, and this helps shine a light on my path of recovery.

WRITER’S BLOCK AND MENTAL HEALTH

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Some people think that writer’s block doesn’t exist, but it does. I learned in a one day writing conference that there are things that cause writer’s block, such as something is wrong with the story, physical problems, and emotional problems. Sometimes there is something wrong with your WIP (work in progress) that you just can’t figure out. You could also be going through physical problems that may make writing hard. Your mental health can affect your ability to concentrate and write.

I have been searching for the reason I can write this blog but not my next memoir. The words won’t come to me, and I’ve lost the inspiration to work on it. The workshop I took spoke to me. As the instructor talked about the mental health issues that affect a person’s ability to write, I realized that is the reason I can’t work on my next memoir.

I kind of knew what was wrong with my husband before he was diagnosed, but I hoped it was something else. Hearing the doctor’s say diagnosis confirmed what I thought was wrong, shredded my hopes, and made everything very real. I attempted to fight back my tears, but they came anyway. At that moment my whole life, my whole world changed.

I have been in recovery from mental illness for years, but since my husband’s diagnosis I’ve been struggling. My husband is the love of my life, and I have depended on him for many things. To find out he’s sick and only going to get sicker has sent me in and out of depression. I have many emotions running through me. I’m angry, I’m sad, I’m frustrated, I’m scared, and much more. I’m trying hard to be strong, but sometimes I feel weak.

I know my husband is sad about his illness. I don’t blame him, but I don’t know how to help him. I take him for rides after work, I try to do fun things with him, and I attempt to get him to talk about his feelings. He has always taken care of me. When I had a bad day with my mental illness, he always knew how to lift my spirits and help me through it. When I was sick, he would take care of me and wait on me. When I had surgery, he took care of me and took me for rides. He always made sure I took my medication.

Now my husband and I have switched roles. I have had seven surgeries and health problems, and he was my caregiver through it all. Now I’m his caregiver. I’m happy to do it. I married him to be there through sickness and health. I believe he’s stronger than I am. He took care of me without showing sadness or any other emotions. Maybe he kept his feelings inside, but some days I just want to lie in bed and cry while taking care of him. I try to hide my tears, but he sees them.

It’s hard to work on my next memoir when I’m trying to deal with all these emotions I have about my husband’s illness. To write my next memoir I must be strong enough to relive the past, and right now I don’t feel strong enough. I’m dealing with too many emotions to take on reliving past emotions. I can write this blog post because I don’t go deep into my feelings to write most of these.

I wrote down my thoughts and feelings about not being able to write and let my therapist read it. She read it and we discussed it. She told me she’ll help me deal with my feelings and told me she’s proud of me with how I am handling everything. That meant the world to me, because I feel like I’m doing a bad job at handling everything. I have been afraid that I would never be able to finish my book, and I would only have one published book. I’m now hopeful that she will be able to help me get back to writing my next memoir.

If you’re struggling with writer’s block because of mental health issues, journal out your feelings, try coping techniques, and get help. Once you take care of your mental health, you’ll be able to work on your WIP again.

I believe with the help of my therapist I will be able to overcome my writers block and finish my next memoir. Working though my feelings and learning to cope with my husband’s illness will help me climb back into the light of recovery again.

CELEBRATING MY THIRTY YEARS

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This Past Wednesday I went to Pittsburgh, PA, to a dinner at Acrisure Stadium, the home of the Steelers football team, to celebrate my thirty years at the grocery store where I work. They celebrated people of different years, starting with twenty-five years and then every five years after. A video was played for what happened at the grocery chain each year that was celebrated. I remember 1995 for more than just starting a new job. It was the year I decided I needed to take care of my mental illness.

Thirty years ago, I was deeply depressed, suicidal, and self-injuring. I tried very hard to push through college, but despite my good grades, I was drowning inside and couldn’t continue. I decided I needed to take a year off and take care of my mental health. My plan was to work at the grocery store for a year or until I was well enough to finish college. Then I would quit, get my two-year degree, and go on to a four-year college, but God had other plans for me.

I started in the bakery. The manager yelled a lot, we had to remember prices of baked goods in the display case, we had to take cake orders and roll orders from customers, and I struggled with that. I talked to no one except when I had to. Every time the manager yelled, I wanted to curl up in a corner and cry. The manager reminded me of the teachers who put me down in school. I fought each day to pull myself out of bed and go to work. I wanted to REMAIN unseen, but that was impossible in a busy grocery store.

After a week or two in the bakery, the manager decided I was not a good fit there. I was moved up to the front of the store, known as the front end. I was given the job of bagger. I didn’t have to talk as much to customers and bagging was much easier than remembering prices. I was still silent unless forced to speak. I bagged groceries and pushed carts, but inside I felt like curling up in my bed and crying until the tears would no longer fall. I wanted my agony to end, and I found relief in hurting myself. My mom went out of her way to get me into therapy.

As I went to my therapy sessions, I pushed my way through my workdays. Cashiers started talking to me between customers. They asked me questions about my family and so on. My replies were short, but as time went by, my answers became longer. I started making friends, I was on medicine for depression, I was going to therapy weekly, and my depression began to lift. In grade school, making new friends was difficult and I was alone a lot, but at my job I became popular. My co-workers liked me for who I was, and that to me was the most beautiful feeling ever.

After my year off from college was up, my depression had lifted, and I returned to college on a part time basis. I continued to work at the store on weekends. In time I became a cashier and began to hold conversations with my customers. I started to get customers who made a point to come and see me, no matter how long my line was. I found that I enjoyed my fellow employees and customers.

In 1999 I graduated from college and went to work at my job during the week and on weekends. I realized with my mental illness and learning disability, I couldn’t go on to a four-year college. It took me several years just to get a two-year degree. I was on a high, though. For the first time in my life, I had friends and a social life. I even began dating, something I never got a chance to do in high school. I stayed out until 2:00 AM bowling with friends, drove half an hour home, and got up and went to work at 8:00 AM. I didn’t get much sleep, but I had fun.

Through my thirty years at the grocery store I overcame mental illness, stopped self-injuring, made friends, tore down my wall, became social, slid into mental illness again, went through many health problems, and found the love of my life. I can’t forget that I recovered from mental illness a second time. I grew into a better and stronger person over the years. For a while I regretted not being able to go to a four-year college, but in time I realized how much I loved and still love working with people.

My customers brighten my day. Each one is special like the one that calls me super woman, and the one who likes it when I tease him, and he tells my customers to pull my finger. There’s the older guy who says I’m cheating on him with my husband and the woman who brings me a pamphlet with interesting facts to read. There are ones who have passed on, ones that are like friends, and ones I’m getting to know. Each customer is special, and they always ask me how I can always be smiling. My reply is, “I love working with people.”

Despite mental illness, I preserved and found happiness and success as a cashier. Sometimes God has different plans for us then what we have for ourselves. Even if you don’t accomplish the goals you set for yourself, that doesn’t mean you failed. Push through your mental illness to reach recovery and discover God’s plans for you. You can make dreams come true, you can build a successful future, you can find new paths, and much more.

I’m proud of my thirty years at my job. I accomplished a lot on the job and personally. I stand in the light of recovery because I didn’t give up.

USING YOUR CREATIVITY TO EXPRESS FEELINGS

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Most people are creative. They find joy in art, music, writing, dance, and crafts. Many people use their creative skills to relax and escape from the stressors of life. For people struggling with mental illness, using the creative side of your brain can be a way to express pent up feelings or to tell others how you are is feeling. It’s an excellent coping mechanism.

When I was in high school, I turned to writing to cope with the feelings built up inside me. Feelings of loneliness, sadness, anger, and much more. I poured my feelings out in folders of college ruled paper. I created worlds I could escape to; I filled my characters with the feelings I felt and then I created happy endings. With my stories I felt like I was in control while in real life I felt like I was out of control.

In high school many of my stories were dark and depressing, because that’s how I felt. My mom even suggested that I try adding positivity in my writing. When I was caught in an abusive friendship, I wrote poems about how I felt about the friend. Some of my feelings were distorted and confusing, but I worked them out in my writing. I filled a folder full of poems trying to deal with my feelings about the friend and to understand what she was doing to me.

When my uncle was killed, I wrote about him and what he meant to me and how his loss affected me. I still write about the loved ones I lost in my life. It helps me deal with my grief. It helps me release my feelings and commemorate my loved one’s memory.

I joined a support group for mental illness. One of the strugglers in the group posts a drawing of how she feels each day. Others post drawings and paintings of things that express their feelings. There are also art therapy groups that focus on using art to help people express themselves, explore emotions, and improve mental health.

I use woodburning to express my emotions. I pick out patterns that show my feelings and help me explore my emotions in an imaginative and creative way. Sometimes I combine patterns to make a picture that expresses my feelings the best. The weight of my emotions pours out in the careful twist of my woodburning pen. The smell of burning wood eases my anxiety. As I create my woodburnings, my bad feelings are set free, and excitement and joy replace them.

Other arts that help express emotions are:

  • Painting uses colors and brush strokes to express emotions.
  • Music lets individuals express emotions in a way that is accessible and less inhibiting than words.
  • Dance can help an individual channel emotion in a way that is both expressive and freeing.
  • Collage and craft help an individual express emotion in an imaginative and creative way.

How can you express your feelings creatively through forms of art? You might not be very creative, and your drawings might be stick figures, but it doesn’t matter. You can doodle, you can just dance around your living room, you can scribble, you can knit a sweater with uneven arms, and you can journal random thoughts to express yourself. It doesn’t matter how good your art is. All that matters is that you express your feelings.

Writing my book, Escape from the Garage: Family Love Overcomes Bullying, helped me express my feelings about the bullying I faced as a child. By expressing my feelings, I was able to heal myself and find peace with my past. Writing is my creative outlet for my emotions, and it helps me stand in the light of recovery.

FRIENDSHIPS AND BOUNDARIES

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True friendship is a special thing, and it doesn’t come easily. A good friendship takes work. Both friends must give equally and understand each other’s boundaries. When a person is struggling with mental illness, it becomes hard to be a good friend. The person struggling has a hard time understanding boundaries and finds it hard to be able to listen and support a friend. Even in recovery a person struggles with friendships and boundaries.

Being a friend to a person in the depth of the hole of mental illness takes a lot of patience, understanding, and strength. A person struggling is trapped in his or her own agony, and he or she finds it impossible to be supportive, able to listen, and honor boundaries. He or she can barely handle his or her own problems let alone others’ problems. They often step on their friend’s boundaries, expecting too much, and become angry when the friend can’t give as much as he or she needs.

When in recovery, a person is stronger and more able to handle other’s problems, but must keep to his or her own boundaries. In recovery he or she are continually taking care of her or himself to stay well. When the struggler is having a hard time, he or she must focus on him or herself. It’s important for the person with mental illness to tell his or her friends when he or she must take a step back for a bit to focus on the persons own well being.

I have been struggling emotionally with my husband’s illness, and now he has another illness on top of that. I’m feeling overwhelmed, sad, and anxious. Several times I have teetered at the edge of that dark hole of depression. I’m trying to prepare for the future while handling what is going on with him now. It’s a lot to handle. I worry a lot, I slip into bouts of depression, and I have anxiety attacks.

A good friend of mine is also going through a hard time and she calls me almost every night to confide in me, but I have found it hard to listen to her problems and deal with my own. I told her I couldn’t handle her problems right now. She replied, “I didn’t ask you to handle my problems.”

When I care about a person and he or she confides in me or vents to me, I become emotionally involved. When I’m struggling with my mental illness, I can’t become involved because I’m barely hanging on. I must put myself first, so I don’t fall down that hole again. That’s when I need to put up my boundaries and stick to them. My friend didn’t call me for a couple of days. I feared she was mad at me. When I told her I was feeling better and could talk to her, she seemed distant.

What I needed from her was support, encouragement, and listening ears while I struggled, but instead I received silence. My Borderline Personality kicked in, and I feared she was abandoning me. I became angry and played over in my head how I would confront her, but I decided instead to write a nice email explaining why I couldn’t listen to her problems. I came to the realization that she too has boundaries and I can’t expect everyone to be able to handle my illness.

In time my friend started confiding in me again. Then my husband and I had an appointment with his doctor about his new illness. I became overwhelmed with the things I needed to do for him. Plus, I’m trying to help my sister with her vision problems and we keep hitting dead ends. I was feeling emotional and when my friend called, I confided in her and forgot to ask about her problems. She became mad at me and when I tried to explain we ended up arguing. I decided for my well being and for the sake of our friendship, I needed to take a break from the friendship. At this point in my life, I need to focus on keeping myself well and depend on friends who can be supportive and understanding.

Not every friend you have understands how to help you or is able to give the support you need during hard times. You can teach them, but it’s up to them if they can handle your illness. If they can’t that is okay. Mental illness is a hard illness to handle, and you must respect your friends’ boundaries. Know which friends you can turn to while you’re struggling and know that those friends also have boundaries. Respecting your friends’ boundaries and letting your friends know about your own boundaries will help you build a strong relationship.

Knowing that I have good friends and using boundaries and respecting boundaries helps me stand tall in the light of recovery.

SIGNS OF A GOOD THERAPIST

Published on by Aimee EddyLeave a comment

This weekend I participated in a Literacy Festival where I sold my book. I spent the whole day at the festival and was to exhausted to write a blog post. So, I’m putting up an old one this week. Enjoy!!

     Last week I gave you signs of a bad therapist, and while there are many bad therapists, there are also good ones. The search for a good one can be frustrating. Some give up on their search after a bad experience. If you want to reach recovery, you must never quit looking for the right therapist. It took me several tries until I found one that helped me reach recovery. Good therapists do exist and if you want to reach recovery you must be determined in your pursuit to find the best therapist for you.

     Here are some signs of a good therapist. These are signs I have noted in my own search for help.

  • Listens. A good therapist listens to your feelings and thoughts. He or she may take notes while listening. Therapist have many patients and taking notes helps them keep track of what is going on with their clients. Don’t worry if your therapist doesn’t take notes. Some have good memories. My therapist, Linda, never took notes, but each time I saw her, she seemed to remember parts of our conversations from the last session. I spilled my soul out to her, I cried, and she listened.
  •  Uses your talents to help you communicate. If you can draw or write better than you can talk about your emotions, your therapist will use that to help you. Linda knew I am a writer. She gave me homework to write journal entries about my feelings and emotions. I would take my journal entry to our sessions, and we would discuss them. Then she had me keep a journal where I listed positive things in my life each day.
  • Gives you homework. A good therapist will assign you things to do at home. To get better you must work at it not only at therapy, but also at home. Reaching recovery is hard work. To change your negative thinking, to build up your self-esteem, to learn to think positively, and so on, you have to work at it on a daily basis, not just when you are at therapy. Linda gave me homework with each session. Sometimes I hated her for it because what she gave me to do was not easy. I gave it my all, though, and after time it got easier.
  • Teaches you healthy coping techniques. A good therapist doesn’t just listen to what you are going through, but also teaches you how to cope. Good coping techniques are the key to reaching recovery and staying in recovery. A good therapist knows that and will guide you through techniques that will help you deal with your illness. Linda taught me coping techniques that helped me handle my depression and she showed me healthy ways to cope with my internal pain without self-injuring. With her help I stopped self-injuring. The techniques she taught me helps me stay in recovery. I use them often.
  • Has lots of knowledge about mental illness and the illness you struggle with. You’d expect that this would be common sense. Unfortunately, there are those bad therapists who have little knowledge of this sickness. A good therapist has a vast knowledge about mental illness and the different kinds. He or she may have books on his or her bookshelves about mental illness. There are some therapists who specializes in certain types of mental illness. A therapist isn’t all knowing but should know enough to lead you to the proper help. Linda had a bookshelf in her office full of books on mental health. She knew a lot about the illnesses I have and how to help me fight them.
  • Has away to contact them when you need him or her. A good therapist has a number you can leave a message on or a on call person to contact if you need them after hours. While you are going through a rough time it is reassuring you can reach out to get help. They will never give you their home number, but they will give you a number where you can leave messages or where you can talk to someone who can contact them for you. Linda had a number where I could leave messages. She checked it frequently. I had to use it several times. She always called me back and she helped me through some very difficult times.
  • Shows compassion and cares about you. A good therapist shows you compassion and cares about you as a person. When you’re in therapy you build a relationship with your therapist. Your therapist becomes like a friend. She cares not only about helping you get better, but about you as a person. Linda was more than a therapist to me. She was my friend. Her children were born around the same time as my nieces. I could tell she cared about me and she showed me compassion. Now I am no longer in therapy and she moved on to a different type of therapy I miss her. I wish I could still talk to her, but I know that is not possible. I will always cherish her.

These are only a few signs of a good therapist. There are many more. If you search the internet, you can find sites that can guide you in finding the right help. Do your homework and be persistent. Finding a good therapist will help you reach recovery and what he or she teaches you will keep you in recovery. There is no cure to mental illness, but with the right medication, therapy, and coping techniques you can find happiness and learn how to handle your illness. Don’t give up there is a good therapist out there waiting to help you.

Linda was the best therapist I ever had. I went to her for many years and with her help I reached recovery. I could never thank her enough for what she taught me. I stand in recovery with strength and techniques to keep me above the hole of sadness.