Author: Aimee Eddy

Maxwell Ivey interviewed me on his podcast What’s Your Excuse? Check it out and leave a comment.

Aimee Eddy Gross has survived and thrived over childhood bullying, mental illness, and breast cancer

     There are some false beliefs with religion and mental illness. Some believe if you have enough faith, your mental illness will go away. God does work miracles, but he also gives you help in different ways. No matter how much you believe in God and praise him, your mental illness will not disappear into thin air. There is a saying, “God helps those who help themselves,” but I’m not sure that saying is completely right. God is always helping even when we have given up. God helps those who need help.

     When I fell the deepest down my hole of depression, I turned away from God. I hated him for the agony that I felt. How could a loving God let me go through an internal hell? I denounced him. I stopped praying to him. I stopped going to church with my parents and I questioned his existence. God didn’t give up on me. He continued to help me even though I turned my back on him.

     I took a year off college because I was too sick to continue. I started seeing a therapist in a town a half hour away. She was so nice. She gave me videos to watch on depression and I found myself confiding in her like an old friend. I started to see a psychiatrist in the same office as hers. I had no insurance since I had just started a job. They allowed me to pay what I could afford for my appointments and the psychiatrist found me a program to get my antidepressants free.

     After six months of therapy, I was living a life I only dreamed of as a teen. I was dating, I had lots of friends and I had a social life.

One day at my appointment, my therapist sat across from me with a bright smile. “Aimee, you are doing so well. You can stop taking your antidepressants. You’ll be fine without them, but in a few years your depression will return. Until then enjoy life.”

I did enjoy life. The kid in me came out. I went bowling until 2 a.m. and went to work at 8 a.m. I had more friends than I knew what to do with. I spent the night at friends’ homes and sat up all night talking. I did many of the things I missed out on as a child. I had the social life I dreamed of. I returned to college and graduated.

Before my graduation I went to the office where I saw my therapist, and the office was empty. I asked someone in the building if my therapist had moved, but no one ever heard of her. The office had been empty for years. I looked through the phone book and found nothing. My wonderful therapist just disappeared. I soon learned that a therapist never takes you off antidepressants; only a psychiatrist or psychologist can do that.

Even though I lost my faith in God, he provided me help and a chance to live life to the fullest. Was that therapist an angel? I believe she was. A couple of years later the depression did come back and I knew to seek help. See, even though I lost my faith, God did not stop helping me. He provided me the help I needed. I learned that even though we may abandon God or lose faith in him, he never turns away from us. I hated him, but he continued to love me.

     Another time when I was living with my grandparents and really struggling, I took a bottle of pills. I was disorientated and groggy. I had a night class and it was snowing bad. Somehow, I drove to college and back. I had no idea how I got there and back to my grandparents’. I didn’t even remember driving. Was I driving or was God? I hated God for my deep sadness and inner pain, so why would he help me? Why did he spare my life? I wasn’t being faithful to him, but he still took care of me.

     I soon learned that God has other ways to take care of us. I went to a writers’ conference at a college several miles from home. I was very shy and depressed, and I barely talked to anyone. One day at lunch I heard a woman, named Kelly, talk about the grocery store I worked at. I told her about how I worked there. We became friends. She invited me to a Bible study she held at the church she was going to. In time she prayed with me to accept God back into my life. God brought us together miles away from home.

     I had my share of bad therapists. After my breakup with my abusive ex, my therapist informed me she was moving away. She referred me to a therapist who told me to think happy thoughts. A program at work found me a new therapist, Linda. Linda gave me homework, she listened to me while I cried, she encouraged me, and she used my writing to help me. She gave me assignments to write out my feelings and problems and we worked on them together. When I started dating my husband, she did couple therapy with us to teach my then boyfriend how to help me with my illness. She even came to our wedding.

     Linda became a friend. She helped me to reach recovery and to stop injuring. She told me I was one of her success stories. After my husband and I married she released me from therapy. When I started to struggle with being a married woman who worked nights and her husband worked days, she was willing to counsel me and help me find ways to cope with being alone while my husband was at work. Linda was the best therapist I ever had. I wish I could sit down and talk to her about all the things I’m doing in my life. She is now a therapist at a college, and it would probably be against rules for her to be friends with a former client, but in my heart she is more then just a therapist.

     I struggled with bad psychiatrist too until my friend, Kelly referred me to one. This psychiatrist, Lance, knows his medication well. He never takes me off a medicine that isn’t working without weaning me off. He is nice and easy to talk to. Lance allows my husband to go to the appointments with me and asks my husband how he feels I’m doing. When I started with Lance, he had to try several different antidepressants until one worked. So, I wouldn’t have to spend a lot of money on prescriptions that didn’t work he provided me with samples. I am now on an antidepressant that is very effective. I see him every two months so he can keep track of how I’m doing.

     You don’t have to be a strong believer, you can lose your faith, you can turn your back, but God never stops helping you. No matter how much faith you have, mental illness doesn’t just disappear on its own. God created therapists and psychiatrists to guide you through your illness. He carries you through the rough times and gives you help in many ways. He provides for his children in need even when they deny him. He doesn’t give up on us. He gives us the right people, therapists, psychiatrists, and so on at the timing he feels is best.

     Without God’s help I would not be alive to write this. God carried me through my mental illness and helped me climb the hole to the light of recovery. I stand in the light with God holding me up.

As a child,

Teacher’s words ripped at my soul,

Creating a deep wound on the heart and soul.

Years passed;

The wound became a scar,

Reopened by an unkind person.

Child’s fear returns.

Anxiety churns the stomach.

Hiding in silence no longer an option.

Can no longer cower.

Must face the fear,

An adult comforting the child within,

Standing tall with new strength

Shouting out, “I will no longer be stepped on!”

The wound closes,

The scar fading,

The child within set free.

A strong adult emerges.

As you know from my past posts, I must lose 20 pounds to get back surgery. The dietitian suggested I drink protein shakes to help curb hunger and to fill me up on a fifteen-minute break at work. She sent me recipes in an email with a packet of information. A year ago, my friend Amy mailed me a Ziplock bag of powder protein, a cup with a lid, and a hand mixer. I tucked it away in a drawer. I had no idea what to use it for until now. I was eager to try them out.

I found one recipe that called for sparkling water and berries. I had fresh blueberries in the fridge, a case of sparkling water, and the protein powder. I went to work. I mixed the berries, half a can of sparkling water, a scoop of protein powder, and a handful of blueberries. The cup Amy gave me wasn’t big enough for the mixer to fit in, so I put it in a bigger plastic cup. I mixed it up and poured it into the cup. I took a sip and it was delicious.

I put it in the refrigerator to take to work the next day. I couldn’t wait to drink it on my break. I was excited to see if it would keep me from craving all the wrong foods. Later that night I reached in the refrigerator for some cheese and the cup tumbled out. The delicious shake spread across my kitchen floor. My dog, Esther, raced over and started licking it up. I cleaned up what she didn’t get.

I sat down with my cheese and she was sitting at my feet with those cute beady eyes begging me to feed her. I gave her a small piece and she swallowed it in a second. Then she was back to begging for more. Obviously, the shake did not stop my dog’s hunger. Would it work better on me?

After I ate my cheese, I got it in my head to make another shake. One way or another I would have a shake to take to work. This time I’ll put it where I can’t knock it over. After I mixed the ingredients together, I started to pour it in the cup and totally missed. It spilled out all over my counter like lava. Except this lava was blue and it was turning everything I had on my counter blue. I let out a scream. Esther sat near the edge of the counter with hopes that some of it would drip on the floor.

I shook my head and looked down at her. “Do you ever stop eating? Wasn’t my first shake enough for you?”

She just looked at me with those beady eyes clueless to my frustration.

What the heck, I’ll give it a try again. My third shake tuned out great and the next day I enjoyed it at work, but my shake saga wasn’t over. A few days later I bought blueberries and blackberries to make another shake. This time I put it in a water bottle that was sealed. I took it to work and put it in the refrigerator in the break room.

My husband came for my break and he brought me a salad. I took my shake from the refrigerator and sat down. I popped open the spout and the shake exploded like a rocket up into my face and down over my shirt. I was dripping with a mixture of blueberries, blackberries, sparkling water, and protein powder. It even covered my glasses. At least I smelled good. My husband attempted to muffle a laugh.

The tragic tale of my attempts to make protein shakes didn’t stop me. I have tried out several recipes and have enjoyed them. While the shake didn’t help my dog, it does help me keep from being so hungry. I have stuck to my new diet even at restaurants. I have shaken up my diet literally with protein shakes, smaller portions, and healthier meals. It does cost more, but I can’t afford not to eat healthier foods. I need the back surgery to reduce my pain, but also to continue to improve my health mentally and physically. My quality of life is more important than money.

It is expensive to eat healthy. Anything that is good for you is costly and all the stuff that isn’t good for you, like chips and cookies, is cheaper. So, you could argue that you can’t afford to eat healthily, but my question is, “Can you afford to eat unhealthily?” Unhealthy eating affects you not only physically, but mentally. Can you afford to risk your mental and physical health on foods that are bad for you?

If you are avoiding eating healthily because it’s too expensive, ask yourself, “Can I afford to put my physical and mental health aside? Is my body and mind worth the extra expense?” Your body and mind deserve to be taken care of properly. Nurture them with healthy meals and exercise. Make eating healthily one of your goals towards reaching recovery.

Eating healthier foods is shaking up my life and making me stronger physically and mentally. I am sure I will lose the twenty pounds and get the surgery I need. I am standing in the light stronger and more determined.

     Life is hard. When we think things are going well, something bad happens. They say bad stuff happens in threes, and it seems true. When something awful happens, we are always looking for the next bad thing to take place. When you have depression, life seems life a never-ending trail of negative events. It seems like you’re the only one that life throws the rough times at. There seems to be no light at the end of the tunnel.

If you remember from past posts, I have been struggling with back problems. Friday, July 31 I went to Cleveland Clinic, sine in the city of Erie where I live, getting help is nearly impossible. One doctor kept canceling and another couldn’t see me until October, but Cleveland Clinic got me an appointment within a week. I was so excited. Finally, I was going to get some answers and hopefully relief from my pain.

I felt relieved that I would get answers and relief. I didn’t worry that much before my appointment. I was confident I was in good hands. The Monday before my appointment I got stomach pains and my insides twisted. I started having diarrhea. Then by Tuesday I couldn’t stay two feet away from the bathroom and I couldn’t eat. I had a piece of toast and lots of water. I began to worry that I would be too sick to go to my appointment.

By Wednesday I was a little better, but my stomach kept twisting. My worries grew. I felt weak. I went for a ride with my husband and I got threw up. I wasn’t sure if it I got sick because of the flu or anxiety. By Friday I felt better and was able to go to my appointment. Everyone thought my stomach illness was anxiety, but a friend who brought me anti-diarrhea medication also got it. I think I had both a virus and anxiety.

Before my appointment at Hillcrest Hospital in Mayville Heights, a suburb of Cleveland, I had an x-ray. When I went to the specialist, she showed me my x-ray.

She looked at me. “You have a broken back. Well, your whole back isn’t broken, but a bone in your back is broken.”

She went on to explain and showed me on the x-ray where there is a gap in my spine when I bend. She told me the only way to fix it is surgery. She explained the surgery and reasons why I needed it. I asked about getting a shot in my back or if continuing physical therapy would help. I wanted options other than surgery. There had to be other ways to relieve my pain. I couldn’t go through another surgery especially on the back, but there were no other options.

She explained the importance of surgery and the importance of losing twenty pounds before surgery. She explained the risks of surgery at my current weight. She gave me the choice to do the surgery with the high risks or lose the weight and lower my risks. We chose the safer option. She referred me to a doctor who could help me lose the weight in two months.

I held it together during my appointment, but when my husband and I went to lunch, the tears came. I couldn’t wrap my mind around my back issue. I was told in Erie I had degenerative disk disease and narrowing of the spine, but there was more wrong. A broken bone. It explained why I wasn’t getting better in physical therapy and why I hurt so much. But a broken back? Would this have ever been discovered if I stuck with doctors in Erie? How long would I have suffered before I got better?

The days after my diagnosis my soul dipped into darkness as my mind went over what the doctor had said. It all seemed like a nightmare. The last thing I wanted was an eighth surgery, but it was inevitable. Losing twenty pounds in two months seemed impossible. My head was spinning. My chest throbbed and tears swelled in my throat. Why me? Why is this happening to me?

Just two years ago I went through breast cancer and had two surgeries within three months. Now I have a bone broken in my back. I began to fall down that hole again. I’m the one all the bad stuff happens to. My husband is twelve years older than me and healthier and my siblings are healthier. It’s like I’m being punished. I cried, I screamed, and I desperately wanted to crawl up in a ball and give up.

I had a virtual appointment with a dietitian, and I learned I must completely change the way I eat. She emailed me two pieces of information. One is forty-five pages and the other is twenty-two pages! So many changes. So much to do. Then on August twenty-fifth I have an appointment with another doctor who is part of the weight loss program. More appointments, and so much information. My mind is on overload. How can I do this? Losing that much weight in two months is impossible. I can’t do it. I’d probably have to suffer until next year before I could get surgery.

My friend Cheryl texted me, “Just think of how much better you’ll feel when you lose that weight and have surgery. I know you can do it.”

My friend Amy instant messaged me, “I won’t even recognize you when you lose that weight. You’ll need a new wardrobe.”

I realized I had to look for the positives instead of dwelling on the negatives. Once I lose that twenty pounds, I’ll feel better and be healthier physically and mentally. Once I get my back fixed, I’ll be able to work out with my friend again. After the surgery the pain will be gone. Each day I continue to write five positive things in my journal.

If life throws something bad in your path, don’t let it pull you down into depression. Look for the positives. Journal your feelings, talk to your support system, and fight to stay above the hole of depression. Life is full of trials and everyone faces them. You’re not the only one who goes through rough times. Push through the tough times and reach for the light.

Through journaling, finding the positive, and leaning on my support system, I will get through this and dance in the light again.

This week I don’t have a post for you. I was sick most of last week and then I got some not so good news from Cleveland Clinic.

On a good note Monday I was interviewed by Randy Mortensen on the podcast Courageous Recovery. I have included the link for it. Please watch and leave me a comment. I would like to hear what you think about my interview. Let Randy know what you think of his podcast. Email Randy at https://www.buzzsprout.com/861964/4839137

https://courageousrecovery.buzzsprout.com/861964/4839137-interview-with-aimee-eddy-a-survivor-of-mental-illness-bullying-breast-cancer-abuse

     Do you want to reach recovery from depression? I mean, do you seriously want to climb out of the dark hole and bathe in the light of recovery? If you genuinely want to get better, then you must take steps towards the light. You can’t do that by sitting at the bottom of your hole dwelling on the sadness that has blanketed your soul. To start the climb towards the light of recovery, you must start out small and in time these steps will grow. But first let’s start with small steps.

     When I was struggling with depression, I took many small steps that helped me on my journey to recovery. The small steps are very important to the recovery process and need to be taken seriously. Below is a list of small steps that helped me reach recovery.

1. Pick a set time to get up in the morning. If I didn’t set my alarm clock for ten A.M. when I was depressed, I would sleep all day. I had to force myself to get out of bed; by doing this it kept me from using sleep to escape my inner sadness. It was much easier to sleep all day than deal with my inner anguish. Pick a time in the morning to get up. Set an alarm clock and make sure you get out of bed. If it helps, plan an activity to do when you get up. That would give you a reason to get out of bed.
2. Set a reasonable time to go to bed at night and use relaxation techniques to help you sleep. For me nights were the worst. That’s when my worrying thoughts raced through my head. I would stay up late watching television or reading to avoid going to bed. By morning I was even more exhausted and more likely to stay in bed. I started setting a certain time to go to bed. I listened to relaxing music and tried relaxation techniques. When I still couldn’t sleep, I talked to my psychiatrist and he put me on medication that helped me sleep. With a good night’s rest, I had more energy to get up in the morning. So, pick a time each night to go to bed. If relaxation techniques don’t help calm your mind and body, then talk to your psychiatrist about medications that can help you get a restful night’s sleep.
3. Find an activity or craft to do to keep you busy. When I was depressed, I stopped writing for a while. I lost faith in my writing. So instead of writing, I did crafts like cross-stitching and woodburning. Keeping myself busy helped keep my mind from racing. My family got many of my crafts as gifts for holidays and birthdays. Find something you like to do that will keep your mind busy like crafts, reading, exercise, crossword puzzles and so on.
4. Take time to take care of your personal hygiene. When I was depressed, I stopped showering regularly and combing my hair. I looked the way I felt, awful. My hair became an oily mess. It stuck up in places and looked unkempt. I was just too lazy to shower regularly. When I made an effort to shower every day and brush my hair, I started to feel better. Feeling better on the outside helped me feel better on the inside. Take the time to take care of your hygiene. It will help you feel better.
5. Keep appointments with your psychiatrist and therapist. I tried hard to keep my appointments, but at times I felt like going was hopeless, so I would cancel. I wasn’t helping myself at all by not going. Without my therapist to talk to, I kept many of my feelings deep inside me and they ate at me. By missing my psychiatric appointments, I was making it hard for my psychiatrist to find the right medication for me. These two appointments are the most important to help you reach recovery. Make sure you keep these appointments unless you have a good reason to cancel like you have the flu.
6. Keep track of when you need to take your medication and make sure you take it. I often forgot to take my medication and sometimes when I had to take it at a certain time I’d forget. One time I went several days without my antidepressants and I had a major break down. I smacked my sister-in-law, and I cried and screamed. It made the symptoms of my depression worse. Once I got back on my medicine, I was able to handle the symptoms of my illness better. When I forgot to take my medicine at night, I would be up all-night trying to sleep. Make sure you take your medicine each day and at the times of day you’re told to take it. Get pill boxes that have days of the week and ones with day and night on them. Set an alarm in your phone to remind you when to take them. If they are not helping, don’t stop taking them without your psychiatrist’s instructions.

Use these small steps to help you start your climb out of the hole of your depression. Recovery is possible, but it is not an easy journey to make. Start with small steps; in time when you feel stronger start taking larger steps. Keep reaching higher and higher until you are above the hole standing in the light.

     I used these steps to help me reach recovery. Because I started small and I took my time I am now standing in the light of recovery smiling.

     With depression there are things in your life that can trigger a bad episode. The world around us is full of trials, tribulations, and triggers. Triggers are the things in a person’s life that brings on strong emotions that send a person struggling with depression down that dark hole. Triggers are different for each person. No two persons’ struggles with depression are exactly alike and it’s the same with triggers.

     As I’ve written in past posts, I’m dealing with degenerative disk disease and narrowing of the spine. I have been struggling with shooting pain that nearly brings me to my knees. When I sneeze, cough, or move wrong suddenly I have a pain that nearly doubles me over. Thanks to physical therapy, the shooting pain hasn’t been as frequent, but it is still bad. I’m struggling; I struggle through work, I struggle doing housework, and I struggle to sleep comfortably at night.

     My doctor’s office nurse scheduled me with a neurologist around three weeks or so ago. I worried, I prepared, and worried some more. My mind raced and my insides twisted. What if the doctor says I need back surgery? That would be my eighth surgery. I couldn’t go through another surgery. What if he puts a shot in my back and it is very painful? What if I can’t function after a shot and have to call off work? The worries went on and on.

     The night before my appointment I struggled to calm my nerves and anxiety. I felt sick to my stomach. In my head I went over questions I had for the doctor and that night I struggled to sleep. Then early the next morning my cell phone rang. The doctor was called into the OR and my appointment needed to be rescheduled for the following week. My heart plummeted. I felt myself falling into that dark hole again.

     Inside I was screaming, “I need to know now what can be done for my pain! I can’t wait for another week! How am I going to control my worries? I can’t do this.”

     My support team came to my rescue. My friend Cheryl reminded me to keep busy and stay positive. My friend Amy suggested I write five positive things about my day in my journal. My husband reassured me everything will turn out well and he held me while I cried. My parents listened to me and assured me they and their church were praying for me. My friend Denise walked with me while I went on about my frustrations and encouraged me.

     I couldn’t stop the worries for the following week until my next appointment. The anguish of waiting, wondering, and worrying started over again. The emotions ran wild. I went from sad to frustrated to crying. The hole of depression was pulling me down into its darkness. My anxiety was on high. I struggled to keep myself calm so I wouldn’t get sick. The night before the appointment I again struggled with my thoughts, anxiety, and sleep. My husband kept telling me to think of something good so I could sleep, but I found that a struggle. Then once again in the morning the phone rang to cancel my appointment and reschedule it again.

     I cried in my husband’s arms. They can’t do this to me again! Didn’t they know I was in pain! How could I wait again? How could I start the emotional turmoil over again? When will I get answers? This time the next appointment would be three days later. I could handle that, right? It isn’t as long of a wait this time. My husband and I had fun things planned and that would keep me busy. Even though I had a fun time with my husband, the worry that the appointment may be canceled again ran through the back of my mind.

     The morning of my third appointment I woke up early. My stomach was upset, and my thoughts raced. What if my appointment is canceled again? How much longer can I suffer? What if the doctor scheduled me for the wrong day? What if I get sick and can’t go to my appointment? What if my back never gets better and I have to live my life like this? They are going to cancel. I just know it. I can’t do this. I tasted the acid from my stomach in my throat, and sure enough they canceled again.

     I cried. My chest throbbed and my throat felt like someone jammed his fist down it. Depression pulled me further into the dark hole. My emotions ran through me so powerfully I ached from the inside out. I felt like I was falling apart. I couldn’t handle another kick in the stomach again and yet they kicked me anyway. I was holding my self together with little bits and pieces of the strength I had left.

     My husband looked at me. “This crap has to end. That is it; call your family doctor now and see if they can find you another doctor.”

     I called my doctor and they told me who they were sending a referral to and gave the phone number. I called the place and they said they were still waiting for the referral. I waited until the next day and called them again. The receptionist told me they didn’t have any appointments available until September or October. I asked to be put on a waiting list. Then I hung up and cried.

     My mind screamed, “I can’t wait that long! I can’t go through this any longer! I’m in terrible pain! Doesn’t anyone care?”

     A co-worker suggested I go to Cleveland Clinic. When I told my psychiatrist I was thinking about going to Cleveland Clinic, he told me they are fast and good. Finally, I had some hope. I called after my appointment. A man registered me and gave me a number to call the next morning. I called the following morning and had my MRI results sent to them. They told me they will call in one to two business days with an appointment. The worrying begins again. Will this work out? Or will this be another disappointment?

     For the next few days, I will journal each day and write five positive things. I will lean on my support team, I’ll walk with my friend, and pray each day that things will work out this time. This whole ordeal has triggered my depression, and I must fight it and cope with it. If I don’t, I will fall all the way down that hole again. The trick is to stay busy until I hear from Cleveland and to stay positive.

     Life is full of triggers to depression. Figure out what your triggers are and try to avoid them. If you can’t avoid them, then find healthy ways to cope. Make sure you have a support team to lean on to help you through your difficult time. If you have a therapist, he or she can help you find coping techniques to face the trigger and get past it. Triggers don’t have to destroy your journey toward recovery or send you back down the hole again. It’s all right to have depression episodes from time to time. It’s up to you to take control and keep it from throwing you all the way to the bottom of the hole.

     Hopefully by the time I post this, I will have an appointment. Until then I will fight my depression, lean on my support system, and cope. By doing these things, I will in time be standing in the light once again.

     Those with treatable mental illnesses often dream of getting to a point when the illness doesn’t control their lives. They want to see sunshine instead of pure darkness. They want an end to their agony, but they often fear it doesn’t exist. It is hard to see past the torture a sick mind puts a person through, but recovery is possible. Some people with mental illness live happy and successful lives. If you want to reach recovery, you must set some goals for yourself. Having goals gives you something to reach for and fight for.

Recovery takes time, but having goals makes the steps obtainable. Here are a few goals you may want to keep in mind in your journey towards recovery. These goals helped me reach recovery.

The goals are:

1. Choose someone to confide in about what is going on inside you. This is the most important goal. If you want to get better, you must tell someone you trust that you are struggling. The first person I told was my mom. Because I told her, she went out of her way to help me find help. Find someone you trust and tell him or her what is happening within you he or she can help you find the right path to recovery.

• Find a good therapist you feel comfortable with. Not all therapists are good at their jobs and not all therapists’ personalities matches with yours. The first therapist I had accused me of self-injuring to hurt my family and friends. One therapist told me stories about her life when I told her my problems. She was nice, but I felt she wasn’t helping me. I did find a therapist I could tell my deepest secrets to and who became like a friend. She even came to my wedding. If your therapist gives bad advice or you don’t feel comfortable with him or her keeping looking until you find the right one.

• Find a psychiatrist that is good and knows medications well. Like therapists, there are good and bad psychiatrists. I had one who over medicated me to the point I felt out of it. I also had one who took me off all my medications at once and that sent me into withdrawal. A friend recommended a psychiatrist who knows his medication well. He worked hard at finding the right antidepressant that works for me. When I needed to change medication, he gave me instructions on how to wean off the medicine so I wouldn’t go through withdrawal. Finding the right medication for you is a rough process and can be made harder by a psychiatrist who doesn’t wean you off meds or gives you too much. Finding a good psychiatrist is an important part of the recovery process.

• Get rid of unhealthy relationships. When I decided I wanted to work towards recovery, I realized I had to end negative friendships. So, I ended a friendship with a woman and her sister who saw the bad side to everything. Her sister was the type of person who took advantage of my friend and me. I decided I needed to surround myself with positive people who could give me a healthy and supportive friendship. This also goes for significant others. If your relationship is unhealthy, end it.

• Build a good support system. When I was working towards recovery, I realized I couldn’t do it alone. I needed friends and family who I could talk to when I was at my lowest. My parents stood beside me when at times I put them through a lot. I had a good friend who I could talk to anytime I needed to. Now I have a wonderful husband, my family, and a handful of friends who I can turn to when I need someone to listen to me or to use my blog posts to help me. Choose people you trust who are willing to learn about your illness to be a part of your support system.

• Know your limits and maintain them. I tried to go to college full time while struggling to handle my mental illness. In time I had to admit I was working beyond my limits and I had to take a year off from college. When I did return to college, for my well being I had to go part time. It took me longer, but it was what I could handle with my illness. I work part time because I know that emotionally and with my anxiety working full time is too much for me. When I get over stressed, I start having anxiety attacks and I become very emotional. Knowing your limits and maintaining them will help prevent you from becoming overwhelmed.

• Make it a priority to fight every day to reach the light. I made it my goal to give the journey to recovery all I had in me. I had to dig deep down inside me to fight for recovery. It’s not an easy battle, but if you’re not willing to put all it takes into it, you will fail. I made it my priority to fight each day even when I felt like giving up. I did the homework my therapist gave me, I worked hard on changing my thought process, and I worked on learning to love myself. The fight was and is worth it. I’m in recovery. I still fight, but it has gotten easier. The fight will not be effortless, and you never stop fighting even in recovery, but it is worth it. Make fighting for recovery a part of your daily routine.

Copy these goals or make your own. Use them to help you reach your ultimate goal, recovery. Recovery is possible with a lot of work and with goals to guide you. Your life doesn’t have to be dominated by a sick mind. You can take control of your illness instead of it controlling you. You can find happiness and live a successful life. Recovery is possible.

     I set myself goals and I am now laughing and smiling in the light of recovery.

     Finding the right therapist for you is a process of elimination. You must search for someone whose personality is pleasing to you, and one whom you feel comfortable with. I went through several therapists until I found the right one. The problem is, there are good ones and bad ones. I had my share of bad ones and I have also had good ones.

     When my mother first found out about my illness, she took me to a therapist in a nearby town. The therapist told me I was injuring myself for attention, and by doing that, I was hurting my family and friends. I went home after therapy crying. Years later, I went to a therapist who told me to think happy thoughts and my depression would go away. Another one listened to what my ex-boyfriend told her and lectured me instead of hearing my side.

     I felt like giving up, but I kept searching. I knew I couldn’t get better without help. When I was in college, my Mom went to a hospital with mental health services, and they gave her a number for counseling services. I found a therapist who educated me about depression and helped me battle my illness.

     Years later when my ex-boyfriend left me, I went to a therapist who gave me homework, allowed me to write down my thoughts, and helped me reach recovery once again. I continued to see this therapist until recently when she changed jobs. She helped me through many rough times and taught my husband about my illness.

     In order to make therapy work, I had to develop a bond with my therapist. I had to feel comfortable telling her my deepest, darkest secrets. To do this, I had to find a therapist whom I could trust. It took me several sessions till I felt comfortable enough with my therapist to share my life story.

     To find a therapist, look in your telephone book or search online. There are several sites that you can type in your state and they will give you a list of therapists. One site is Psychology Today at http://therapists.psychologytoday.com/rms/.  Also check for state funded programs. Go to National Alliance for Mental Illness, NAMI, for help. You can find NAMI’s website under resources on the menu bar. I found a therapist through a free program offered at my job.

     Don’t give up if a therapist doesn’t suit your needs or isn’t very good. Keep searching till you find the one that is best for you. I didn’t give up, and in time I found a therapist who helped me reach the light. Once I found the therapist best for me, I worked hard, and I listened to her advice. I had to be willing to get better for therapy to work effectively. Once I put all my effort into recovery, I was able to find the light and dance within.