Author: Aimee Eddy

 

Many struggle with their self-esteem. Loving yourself despite your faults and flaws isn’t easy. Some people love themselves, but hate little things about themselves. When you are struggling with mental illness, you begin to hate everything about yourself. You can’t even stand to look at yourself in the mirror. The self-hate boils up within you like a volcano ready to explode. Hating yourself clouds your whole life. Trying to learn to love yourself while fighting for recovery can be an ongoing challenge.

My self-esteem was torn apart in school when I was bullied. As I went from grade to grade being put down day after day, part of me died and I slipped into depression. I began to believe some of the awful things my teachers and classmates said about me. I dreamed of being like everyone else. I wanted to be able to learn like my classmates; I wanted to be smart and pretty. Instead I felt ugly, stupid, and worthless. I struggled with that though-out school. In high school I did find enough belief in myself to prove to everyone I was intelligent, but the self-hate still haunted me.

When I hit rock bottom of my mental illness my senior year of high school, my self-esteem faded even more. I looked into a mirror to see an ugly, fat, and worthless mess. I was a hopeless wreck. How could I love this woman who was ravished with anguish and was destined to live in deep sadness?

I was always bigger–boned then my siblings and I thought that meant I was fat. Both my older and little sisters have always been beautiful, and I felt like the ugly sister. My sisters were girly and I was a tom-boy. Even when I tried to be more girly, I felt uncomfortable and uglier. No matter how hard I tried to make myself look pretty, I only felt worse. Even being myself wasn’t enough to make me good inside. This self-hate followed me into my adult years.

I graduated from college, but it took me about five years to graduate from a two-year college and that’s not counting a year I took off to take care of my illness. Even though I never gave up on finishing college, while struggling with my learning disability and mental illness, I still felt like a failure. I had big plans for my future. I planned on graduating and going on to a four-year college, but instead I went to work at a grocery store. I felt like a loser. I thought, “I went to college to become a nobody.” I had big dreams of becoming a reporter and that dream was smashed. I was a loser like everyone predicted.

No one has ever made me feel like a beautiful woman until I met my husband. From the first day I met him, he told me how beautiful I am and treated me like a princess. No other man ever made me feel like I was desirable or like a woman. Even though he continues to tell me how beautiful I am, I still struggle with my self-esteem.

I have gained a lot of weight since I have been married. Sometimes I look in the mirror in disgust. How did I let myself get this big? Other times I look at myself and say, “I am beautiful no matter what.” I lost my breasts due to cancer. I decided not to get reconstruction. My husband said I’m beautiful the way I am. I am happy not having breasts, but at times I look at myself and only see my ugly scars.

Sometimes I like myself and sometimes I hate myself. It’s a constant battle, one I work hard to fight each day. Recently a lot of good things have happened in my life, making me feel less of a failure. Each time that inner voice puts me down, I argue with it. I tell myself I am beautiful and I am not a failure.

If you struggle with your self-esteem, fight it. Each day write something good about yourself in a notebook. Put positive things about yourself on index cards and put them around your home where you can see them. Argue with your inner voice that puts you down. Love yourself for who you are, as you are. Never give up on yourself. You can win the battle and learn to love yourself.

Recently, as you read in a previous blog, some good things have happened in my life that helped me realize I have never been a failure. I have worked successfully for 24 years at the same job, I have overcome mental illness, and much more. This year I received an award, I gave two speeches, I was on the news three times, and I’ve been published in a book. I am not a failure.

Each time I lose my way, I will remind myself of all I have achieved. Every time I feel ugly, I will tell myself I am beautiful. Building my self-esteem is an ongoing battle, but I will not give up. Because I continue to fight, I bathe in the light of recovery.

In my last post I wrote about giving a speech at Amy Bovaird’s Disability inSights seminar, and in this week’s post I am writing about the topic I covered in my speech. I talked about the steps to recovery. I’m not an expert or a professional in the field of mental health, but these are steps I learned through my own experiences and through my fight for recovery. It’s hard when you are ill to think your life could ever get better, but it can.

My recovery process stretched over several years, and it was an up and down process. It’s not an easy task, but it is worth the fight. Use these steps as guidance towards your recovery, and maybe think up some of your own steps.

Below are the steps I used to reach recovery.

• The first step is to admit you’re sick. You can’t get better unless you admit you have an illness. If you continue to go on in denial you’ll only sink deeper into your dark hole. It took me a while to admit to anyone that there was something wrong. I kept lying to my family, friends, and myself that I was not ill. When I finally confided in my mother about my illness, I was able to start my journey toward recovery.
• The second step is to want to get better. No one can help you unless you want to get better. The saying, “You can’t help those who won’t help themselves” is true. In order to want to get better you have to be willing to help yourself. I told my mom I wanted to end the pain, agony, and sadness within me. I didn’t want to live like that anymore. My mom went on a search to find me the right therapist and in therapy I worked hard.
• The third step is to ask for help. In order to get better you have to ask for help. Like any illness you need professionals to help you find the right medication and to counsel you. You can’t fight this battle on your own. In my first struggle my mother helped me find a therapist and the therapist helped me get a psychiatrist. When I fell down the dark hole for the second time, I went through a program at work that helped me find a therapist and psychiatrist. I had to go through different therapists and psychiatrists until I found the ones that worked best for me. Once I did, I was able to begin to work on changing my thought processes, and my psychiatrist looked for the right medication that worked for me.
• The fourth step is to be determined to fight. You can’t reach recovery unless you put all of you into it. Fighting mental illness will be one of the hardest battles you ever fight, and you have to give it your all. After I was hospitalized, I decided I wanted to live a normal life and I was willing to do whatever it took to reach it. It was a harsh and painful fight. I had to change my whole thinking process, I had to let go of unhealthy relationships, I had to battle racing thoughts, and I had to change how I thought about myself. It took all of my will power and determination to reach recovery.
• The fifth step is to research your illness. Once you get a diagnosis of your illness, do research. Go to the library, go online, check on Amazon and go to book stores to find information on your illness and self-help books. When I found out I had depression, anxiety disorder, self-injury, and Borderline Personality Disorder, I went online and started to look up my illnesses. Then I went to book stores and found self-help books. Researching my illness helped me understand my life. Many things I did as a child and many things I struggled with for years finally had a reason. Knowing and understanding my sickness helped me take the right steps to getting better. It helped me understand what was happening within me.
• The sixth step is to build a support system. You need more than professionals to help you with your journey. You need friends and family members who you can turn to, who can support you, and who can encourage you. These must be people willing to learn about the type of mental illness you have and they must be positive. My parents, especially my mom, have always stood at my side even though at times I was hard to handle. They have always been encouraging. I could always confide in my mom and still can. When I was at my worst, I called my best friend Cheryl at any time and she would talk to me for hours until she was sure I was fine. My husband went to couple therapy with me while we were dating to learn how he could help me. He gets me through many tough times. I also have various other friends I can lean on like my good friends Amy and Kelly who are always positive and encouraging.

Use these steps to help guide you to recovery. I want to urge all who are suffering with mental illness to fight for recovery. Recovery is not a cure, but it is a chance to take control of your illness and live a happy, productive, and meaningful life. It is possible. It’s a battle worth putting all of your willpower and determination into. Go now and take the steps to fight and win control over this awful sickness. You can do it!

It took me years of ups and downs to reach recovery, but no matter what, I never gave up. I followed these steps and I have been in the light of recovery for several years. I do have bad days, but I know how to handle them. I’m standing in the light for the world to see that recovery is possible.

They called me dumb, stupid, and retarded because I had a learning disability. It started in elementary with my first grade teacher and followed me into high school. I was supposed to be the retard who would never be able to do anything with her life when she grew up and the dummy my teachers pushed through elementary and assigned students to give me answers on tests. Teachers said I would grow up to be on welfare and unable to obtain a job. This bullying is part of what led me into mental illness and has left scars on my soul. They were wrong about me and I have proven it over and over again.

In high school I gave up fun time to study endless hours to prove I was intelligent. I became obsessed with getting good grades and making perfect attendance. I thought if I couldn’t get any awards at the end of the year for my accomplishments, at least I could get perfect attendance. In ways it paid off and in some ways it hurt me. I had no social life and I became mean when my family members got sick.

First I made it on the merit roll then the honor roll. My junior year of high school I was inducted into the National Honors Society. I was told I was the first student in my school with a learning disability to be inducted. As an inductee, I was given the assignment to go to the classroom of my fourth grade teacher, who had said I couldn’t read, to tutor one of her students in reading. When I graduated from high school, I received five scholarships and the principal gave a hidden hero speech about me. I proved everyone wrong, yet I was deeply depressed.

I went off to a community college. I got good grades, but I was deeply depressed and suicidal. I took time off from college to work through my mental illness and did return to graduate in 1999. I had a period of recovery and was able to receive my associate degree and once again proved them wrong.

After I graduated I continued to work at a grocery store where I started working during my year off. My plans changed. I had planned to go on to a four year college and become a reporter, but with my learning disability and mental health, I was unable to continue on with my collage path. Instead I stayed at the grocery store, feeling like I had failed. I became sick again. I felt like my life was a hopeless mess. I had no purpose.

I struggled to reach recovery from mental illness and reached it, yet I still felt like I failed. There had to be more to my life then to just be a cashier. Recently, thanks to Alexander Kovarovic, I have found my purpose. Alex invited me to write blogs for the National Youth Internet Safety and Cyberbullying Taskforce and then made me assistant to the director. I began a whole new adventure.

I started to step out of my comfort zone to call places to set up events and ask businesses for donations. This led to many opportunities. In March I was interviewed for a local news channel for my achievements and for being published in Alexander Kovarovic’s book Change Your Life. Then in April Alex came to Erie PA to award me and others the “Saving Lives” award. I was once again interviewed for the nightly news right before the ceremony. At the ceremony I gave a speech of acceptance and told my story of being bullied in school. Afterwards I was complimented on what a wonderful speech I gave and I realized I wanted to do more speaking.

Then my good friend Amy Bovaird asked me to speak at her Disability inSights seminar. I was excited and began to prepare. I practiced on my husband and on Marco Polo to a long distance friend. Amy invited me to go on the Insider, a local news show, to help promote the event. For the third time in one year I was on television.

A person who once said I would never be able to do anything stopped me at work. “I saw you on TV again. You are becoming a success.”

I smiled with pride and thought, I have always been a success and you just couldn’t see it. You once called me dumb; what do you call me now?

I overcame mental illness, I rose above bullying, I worked past relationship abuse, and I kicked breast cancer in the butt, and so much more. I had made many victories when I thought I had failed.

This past Friday I gave my speech at the seminar, about my journey through bullying, mental illness, and the steps I took towards recovery form mental illness. I spoke from my heart and shared my pain and my triumph with a room of about thirty people. Afterwards a person in the audience asked for my information to contact me for future speaking engagements. Someone asked me how long I had been speaking and another wanted her picture taken with me. Others gave me hugs and told me, “You’re an inspiration.”

I felt uplifted. Not only uplifted by the wonderful response I got from my speech, but also by the others who spoke. The common theme I heard in the speeches was you can overcome whatever challenges and disability that lie before you. My new goal in my life is to help others through my writing and through speaking. I finally found my purpose.

God gives all of us purposes to our lives. Sometimes we can’t see it and we think our lives are going nowhere, but if we keep looking we’ll find it. We all have talents and abilities that could be used to change the world. We are not failures unless we choose to be. The fights we conquered are badges of success. Success is not being rich and famous. It’s facing life and all its ups and downs with strength and courage. It’s pushing against all odds to stand tall in the light. Find your talent and celebrate each of your successes no matter how small they are.

I am on a high. I am no longer stuck with that constant worry that I failed. I have been succeeding for years even when I thought I was a failure. I am standing in the light of triumph.

Going through serious illnesses such as breast cancer can lead to depression. Breast cancer is a life changing disease that not only affects the body physically, but also mentally. Your whole life is changed by this illness. Just hearing the “C” word leaves a person devastated. Sufferers are going though all kinds of changes in their bodies and are overloaded with information and appointments.

When you hear the words, “You have breast cancer,” your heart stops for a few minutes. Fear fills your body, your mind races, and tears flood your eyes. You fear that you will die, you fear getting sick from treatments, you fear what you will look like without hair or breasts, and so on. You are stunned, sad, angry, and scared. This is enough alone to send a person into depression. It’s what helped throw me towards that dark hole, but that’s just the beginning.

Once you are diagnosed, you are scheduled many appointments. Too many to keep track of. Specialists and doctors overwhelm you with information and your mind feels like it’s going to explode. They tell you what kind of treatments is recommended, they explain your cancer, and say things you may not understand. You’re sitting their trying to focus while your mind keeps repeating, “I can’t believe this is happening to me,” and “This can’t be real. I must be dreaming.”

Then there are the treatments. The treatments change your body. There are treatments that make you sick, burn your skin, and lose body parts, and more. These alone can send a person into depression. I had to make a very hard decision. I had to decide whether or not to keep my breasts. This sent me into depression. How could I make a decision to have a part of my body removed? I agonized and cried over this.

At work a woman gave me a keychain that was pink that had the words “brave, fight and live” on it. She told me she had a double mastectomy. I looked at her flat chest and thought, “She looks ugly, and I’m going to look ugly.” Of course she wasn’t ugly; she was beautiful, but when I looked at her, I didn’t see her; I saw myself. I pictured myself breastless and it wasn’t a pretty sight. I decided then I had to have reconstruction. It seemed like the only way I would ever be able to love myself, so I thought. I was wrong, but at the time I couldn’t see that.

For some breast cancer sufferers, it can be hard to decipher the symptoms of depression. With treatments they are already feeling fatigue, their appetite changes, they find it hard to sleep, they have aches and pains they never had before, and they find it hard to concentrate. When I had my bilateral mastectomy, I had no energy and sleeping was a challenge.

There are many other symptoms of depression to look for:

• plans of suicide or harm-self
• Lack of interest in things that lasts for several days
• Confused
• Emotions that interfere with daily activities
• Loss of appetite and inability to eat
• Inability to sleep
• New and unusual symptoms

If you notice any of these signs seek help. You can find these

at American Cancer Society ttps://www.cancer.org/treatment/treatments-and-side-effects/emotional-side-effects/anxiety-fear-depression.html. After my mastectomy, it took me a while before I could even look at my chest and I cried easily. Since I have been through depression before, I knew the symptoms well. I felt that darkness engulfing my soul. I struggled at night to sleep even while on sleeping medication. The self-esteem that took me years to build was crumbling. On top of being depressed, I felt grief for losing the very part of my body that distinguished me as a woman. I felt hopeless.

My husband reassured me over and over again I was still beautiful. I used coping techniques I learned in years of therapy to help me face depression and defeat it once again. I leaned on my support team. In time I learned to accept myself without breasts. I decided I didn’t want more surgeries and chose not to have reconstruction. I had to learn to love myself as a woman with a flat chest.

If you are going through breast cancer and you find yourself struggling with depression, turn to someone. Build a support system and talk to your cancer center about therapy. Going through a major illness like breast cancer is bound to cause sadness, but when that sadness persists and you can’t shake it, then you need help. Not only do you need to take care of your body, but you also need to take care of your mind.

I have been cancer free for one year. I fought breast cancer and depression and won. I am standing tall in the light of recovery.

 

Many resist going on medication when they find out they have mental illness. The idea of being on an antidepressant for life can be frightening. Some medications also have a bad reputation. There are stories of people going on them and becoming like zombies. The person just sleeps, can’t function or even think. This scares people. They want to get better, not become a zombie. So many turn to alternatives like medicating with drugs and alcohol, natural remedies, or just go untreated.

Finding the right antidepressant that works for you is not an easy process. What works for one person doesn’t mean it will work for everyone. You have to keep trying different types until one works for you. Plus, antidepressants are not an automatic cure. You can’t take the medication and suddenly everything is better. It doesn’t work that way. An antidepressant treats symptoms of your illness, but the rest is hard work through therapy to undo years of misguided thinking and self-loathing. You have to change your way of thinking completely and that is not easy.

When I started on antidepressants for my mental illness, I wanted the medicine to take away all the bad thoughts, to make me love myself, and to make me feel like I was worth something. I wanted it to work right away. Unfortunately, they didn’t work that way. The psychiatrist told me it could take up to two weeks for my medication to start working, and if it wasn’t working in that time, he would try me on another one.

My first thoughts were: You mean I have to wait? It doesn’t work right away? I want to feel better now.

The psychiatrist just handed me a prescription and sent me on my way. Two weeks later I was feeling the same. The psychiatrist put me on another one. With the new one I was constantly tired. I needed lots of naps. I would go to college and fall asleep in class, and when I went home for the day all I could do was sleep. It seemed like I was spending lots of money on antidepressants that weren’t working. It seemed hopeless. Would I find any relief from my illness?

I told my therapist how hopeless it seemed and how expensive it was to keep buying medication that didn’t work. She helped me find programs to pay for the antidepressant and encouraged me not to give up. She told me to never take myself off an antidepressant. Why? Because automatically being taken off of antidepressants can cause withdrawal and other complications. She said if I was having any problems with my medication to call my psychiatrist right away.

A good psychiatrist knows medications well and knows that a person must be weaned off of an antidepressant before a new one is started. I had psychiatrists take me off medication without weaning. I had sweats, shaking, nausea, and sleeplessness and became very sick. I couldn’t eat for days. It was awful. After that I found a new psychiatrist. I went through several until I found Doctor Lance Besner and he knew his medications well. I will never leave him because he is the best psychiatrist I ever had.

Before I saw Doctor Besner, I was seeing a psychiatrist who had me on high doses of three antidepressants. After being on that much medication for several years, I began to lose my memory and I had a tremor. I couldn’t remember what day it was and the simplest things. I have a bad memory to begin with, but this was worse. I felt like I was losing my mind. On top of that I couldn’t even hold a pen without shaking. I couldn’t hold my hands still no matter what.

I told my psychiatrist and he sent me for neurological tests. When those came back normal, he took me off all my medication. I started making mistakes at work, I went days without sleep, I went from hot to cold within minutes, and I couldn’t eat. Just the thought of food made me sick. I got suspended from work for a mistake and my whole body began to shake. My husband took me to the emergency room. They said I was dehydrated and going through withdrawal.

A friend suggested I go see doctor Besner and I did. He started the game of trying to find what medication worked for me. It is a rough game, but this time he gave me samples of the antidepressants. That way I wasn’t losing a lot of money when the prescription didn’t work. When one antidepressant didn’t work, he cut the dosage while slowly starting me on a new one. Once I was completely off the old antidepressant, he increased the new one. He did this process until I found one that took away many of my symptoms. I could finally sleep, I had more energy, I could think more clearly, and my depression wasn’t so horrible. I took control of the rest of my depression by going to therapy and working hard to change my thought processes.

If your antidepressant isn’t working or you’re having bad side effects, tell your psychiatrist. Don’t take yourself off the medication on your own. Be patient; there is one that will work for you. Don’t expect the medicine to be an automatic fix. Remember, you have to put work into your recovery. You must go to therapy and do any homework the therapist gives you. Remember, it takes time for antidepressants to work, so don’t expect to feel relief right away.

I have found the right combination of medication that works for me. With medication and hard work I am enjoying the light of recovery.

We as humans often abuse and neglect our bodies. We fill our bodies with junk food, we sit on our butts instead of exercising, and we neglect to get tests that are important to making sure we are healthy. Our bodies are precious works of art created by God, yet we hurt them. It’s your body, and you must decide how you want to treat it. As you know, it is breast cancer awareness month. My question to you is, “Do you love your body enough to get a mammogram?” It’s your body and your choice, but it’s also your life. Don’t you want to live it?

Here are some facts for you. A mammogram can identify about 87% of breast cancer in women. This statistic can be found on the Susan G. Komen site https://ww5.komen.org/BreastCancer/AccuracyofMammograms.html. The National Breast Cancer Foundation Inc. states in an online article called Early Detection, “When breast cancer is detected early, and is in the localized stage, the 5-year relative survival rate is 100%. Early detection includes doing monthly breast self-exams, and scheduling regular clinical breast exams and mammograms.”  https://www.nationalbreastcancer.org/early-detection-of-breast-cancer/

So if mammograms have an 87% chance at finding cancer and survival rate of early detection is a 100%, then wouldn’t you want to get that uncomfortable test done? Wouldn’t you want to do whatever it takes to make sure you detect breast cancer early? You could skip a mammogram and take the chance that you’ll never get breast cancer, but do you want to leave your body and life to chance? It’s your body and your choice, but don’t you want to be safe? Don’t you want to know what’s happening within you?

Taking that chance is like jumping in water with a shark in it and hoping you don’t become its food. Chances are the shark is preoccupied on another catch and it won’t even notice you. Then there’s the other option: it sees you and chomps right down. You could be swimming freely without a care in the world or struggling to get out of the water alive. It’s the same with cancer. Chances are you may never get cancer and then there is the chance you do develop the disease. If you never get a mammogram, cancer can grow and spread. By the time you realize you have it you find yourself fighting to stay alive or worse.

I didn’t want to take chances with my life. When I turned 40, I started getting my mammogram and at age 44 they found something. It turned out to be stage 1 and stage 0 ductile cancers. I also found out I had the BRCA gene which increased my risk of getting ovarian cancer and breast cancer. I was lucky I didn’t have to go through chemo. I did have a bilateral mastectomy and a hysterectomy to avoid a reoccurrence. That was no fun, but it could have been a lot worse. If I would have skipped that test, the cancer could have spread to other parts of my body. I could have gone from stage 1 and 0 to stage 4 which is the highest stage of cancer. I could be dying, but instead because I wanted to take care of my body, I’m cancer free.

Even if you do catch cancer at a later stage, it is still treatable. I have a friend with stage 4 cancer who was diagnosed three year ago. She is on chemo for life. Cancer has spread to other parts of her body, but she is still with us. She’s with us because her disease is being treated. She takes one day at a time and knows her limit, but she keeps on fighting. She makes wonderful crafts. My aunt has stage 4 cancer and is a doctor. She hasn’t let her illness hold her down. With treatments these two ladies keep on going. If they had let their disease go untreated, they may not be here at all.

These women and many other women are living because they took care of their bodies and did self-exams and got a mammogram. I’m alive because I decided to get my yearly test done. I hated it, but I got it done. It’s very uncomfortable. They put your breasts in a machine that smashes them and takes pictures of them. It doesn’t take long to get it done. It feels strange having someone else touching your breasts, but it’s worth it. If it comes out negative, than you can let out a sigh of relief, and if it comes out positive, you’ll have a long road ahead of you, but you can beat it.

Take care of your body. Get those tests that can save your life. Don’t leave your life to chance. Stop putting off that mammogram, stop making excuses for not getting it done, and step up and call your doctor today. If you don’t have insurance, there are programs that will help pay for a mammogram. So get on the phone or online and do your research. Treat your body with the respect it deserves and do what’s necessary to protect it from disease.

This month means a lot to me. October is breast cancer awareness month and I’m proud to wear pink and tell people I am a survivor. Because I took care of my body, I am standing in the light of recovery one year cancer free.

It is common to think that everyone’s symptoms of depression are exactly the same. When you read information on the illness, it lists the symptoms, and we believe that must be how everyone else experiences it, but everyone is different. Some never leave the house when depressed, others may sleep for hours on end, and still others may stop taking care of themselves. We may have the same symptoms, but we each react differently. So when you’re going through a good period or recovery, it is important to be aware of your illness and signs of when you are having problems and when you need help.

When I went through the worst of my depression, I often felt like lying around all day, but my willpower wouldn’t let me. I put on a fake smile and forced myself to go to college and work. I felt this deep darkness covering my soul like a storm cloud and inside I hurt, but I couldn’t miss classes or call off from work. I deeply wanted to sleep all day and give up, but I’m not that type of person. I believed I must push on no matter what, but I internalize my pain. I do tend to neglect myself like not eating properly, pushing myself too hard, skipping showers, and forgetting to take my medication. I make mistakes I normally wouldn’t, like on keeping track of finances.

Through years of struggling with depression, I learned to keep track of the symptoms of my depression. I keep track of them mentally and in my journal. I have the number to crisis services if I ever need them, and I follow up with a psychiatrist every two month. Even though I am in recovery, I must be prepared for bad days and signs of when I’m slipping down that hole again. Being pro-active can save me from falling all the way to the bottom of the hole again. I have worked too hard to allow myself to hit bottom.

As you have read in my blog posts, I recently lost my grandma. During the time she became bedridden and death began calling her, I started noticing my signs of depression. I began to make mistakes in my bill register. I’d forget to subtract things and missed paying bills on time. Then I felt that dark cloud seeping in, and I had to push myself to get out of bed. I cried easily, and I began to neglect myself. I pushed myself to go to work even when I didn’t feel like it. I even pushed myself to exercise with a friend when I had little energy.

I felt during the circumstances with my dad being in charge of Grandma’s affairs and her care, it would be best not to tell my parents. Instead I told my husband about my symptoms. We discussed steps we would take to assure the depression remained under my control. I journaled my feelings, decided I could no longer visit my grandma, and Lou would help make sure I took care of myself. I also leaned on my support system. I had to be sure I didn’t stop doing my regular tasks like writing my speech for October 18 and working on my book proposal. I had to keep myself busy so my mind wouldn’t take over.

My husband and I also talked about what symptoms to look out for that would indicate I needed professional help. Signs like talking about dying, not eating, stopping doing things I enjoy like writing, thoughts of self-injuring, and canceling plans with friends and family and inability to sleep even while on medication. There is also crying over small things and worrying so bad I am continuously sick with anxiety attacks. Anxiety attacks for me means I am unable to keep food down.

Lou helped me monitor my symptoms, and I kept track of them in my journal. I practiced coping techniques I have learned in therapy. Like keeping busy, writing my feelings in my journal, changing negative thoughts to positive, and leaning on my support team. I knew my grandma would not want me to hit the bottom of the hole over her, and I worked too hard to let the depression take complete hold of me.

Being aware and pro-active helped me keep my depression under control. I fell apart at Grandma’s viewing, but kept it together for her funeral. Days fallowing her funeral I took care of myself. I spent extra time with my husband so I wouldn’t be alone. I made sure I talked out or wrote out my feelings with my husband and friends. I took extra time to do small things for myself like watching a movie I liked, taking a break from my writing for a few days, snuggling with a shawl my mom saved from Grandma’s room, and allowing myself time to just sit and cry. My husband and I even took a four day vacation to Dayton, Ohio just to get away and have fun. We had a great time exploring a Packard car museum and an airplane museum, spending time together, and exploring the area around our hotel.

Because I kept track of my depression, monitored my symptoms and practiced coping techniques, my depression is fading. I’m still missing my grandma and I’m still grieving, but the darkness is no longer pulling me down that hole. I’m making less mistakes, and I am feeling more at peace with my grandma’s death. I am very proud of myself for being aware of my symptoms of depression and taking care of it before I hit rock bottom. I was able to get a hold of my illness without getting professional help.

Being aware of your symptoms of depression and the things you do while you’re slipping down the hole can help you handle your illness or get help before things get bad. We are never cured of depression even in recovery, and knowing when this illness is threatening to take control can help you fight it before it overtakes you. You must always be aware of the symptoms of your illness even while everything is going good and especially during rough times in your life. Being pro-active can help you better manage depression and save you from hitting rock bottom. If it helps, write down the symptoms and give a copy to your support team so they can help you. The key is you must always take care of your depression even when you’re dancing in the light of success. Ignoring the signs that you’re having problems and getting help when you have already hit bottom will make the climb to recovery even harder.

Because of my awareness of the depression I faced, I was able to avoid hitting bottom and once again took control of my illness. I am doing much better and I am relaxing in the light of recovery.

I’m enjoying a vacation so this weeks post is a oldie, but goodie. Next week I will have a new post for you. I have some ideas swimming in my mind. Enjoy!!!

 

In order to recover from mental illness, you must have determination, strength, and willpower to live a healthy life. You have to fight harder than you have ever fought in your life. Facing your mental illness is one of the most difficult challenges in your life. In order to fight, you must educate yourself about your illness, take your medication as advised, participate in therapy, and do any homework your therapist suggests.

When I found out in college I had depression, I collected pamphlets, I checked out books at the library on depression, and when I got a therapist, she gave me a video on depression. I needed to understand what my illness was and if I could get better. When I got sick again, years later, and found out I was a self-injurer and I had borderline personality disorder, I researched online and at the library and I bought books on my illness. Through research my life began to make sense. Many of the problems I had as a child had a reason. I wasn’t a freak; I was ill.

Once I understood my illness, I became determined to live a normal life. In order to reach recovery, I had to fight. Fighting meant going to therapy and learning to change my way of thinking, to look at my life in a different light, and to take my medications as prescribed. Most importantly, I had to want to get well more than anything in the world and I had to learn to believe in myself. In order to believe in myself, I had to love myself, which was a struggle of its own.

A friend kept telling her psychiatrist what medication  to put her on and took herself off medications when she thought they didn’t work. By doing this she only made herself sicker. I found that even when medications didn’t seem to be working, I had to stay on them and allow my psychiatrist to change them. I also learned I had to try many medications until I found one that worked. By being patient, I did find one that has helped me reach recovery and stay within recovery.

I spent my life drowning in negativity and believing I was ugly and worthless. My thoughts dipped into darkness and raced uncontrollably for many years. I burst out into angry episodes and broke things. How could I change all that? Within my heart I knew the only way I could learn to be positive and control my thoughts and episodes was to go to therapy and do the homework my therapist gave me.  I had to fight for my right to be happy and to find the positive side of life.

So dig deep down in yourself and find the willpower to fight. If you can’t find the power within you turn to God and ask for his help. By fighting, I am living a wonderful life and I have found true happiness above the hole, in the rays of the light.

October is a busy month: It is not only Breast Cancer Awareness Month, but it is also International Blindness Awareness Month and National Disability Awareness Month. On October 18 my good friend, Amy Bovaird, a very talented author, is putting together a seminar called Disability inSIGHTS. There will be seven speakers on different topics like mental illness, Autism, blindness, and deafness. It will be an uplifting seminar that will encourage its attendees to work around their disabilities to inspire and touch the world.

Amy Bovaird messaged me on instant messenger, asking if I would be willing to speak about mental illness for this very special event. I was excited and a bit scared. She wanted me to write a twenty to thirty minute lecture. I’ve never written longer then a ten minute speech. My first question was, “Can I do a speech that long, and what will I talk about?” I confided in Amy about my concerns. She was very encouraging. She is a reader of this blog and made suggestions of different topics I could write about.

Then I worried about how I would write my lecture. For a fifteen-minute speech I used index cards, but there would be is a lot of cards for a twenty to thirty minute lecture. So how will I remember everything I want to say? I asked Amy and others who speak. They suggested I do an outline of the different things I want to say. It is my story, so what can go wrong? So I am working hard on my outline.

The title of my talk will be “Recovery from Mental Illness is Possible.” I decided I will share my story about how I suffered with mental illness and struggled to reach for recovery. I will give some examples of coping techniques I used to reach recovery and the steps to take toward recovery. I hope to inspire other attendees to also reach for recovery from mental illness. Just as the seminar states, I want to give insights into living with mental illness and becoming capable of reaching recovery and becoming an important part of society.

I urge you to come and listen to not only me, but the other six speakers. First, I want to tell you about the one putting the seminar together, my friend, Amy Bovaird. She is legally blind and is also losing her hearing. Despite her disabilities, she is an author of three wonderful books, and she is a powerful speaker and a blogger. She is a very determined person who doesn’t let any obstacles get in her way. She has been working tirelessly on making this seminar a success. I find her to be a very inspiring woman who is living her life to the fullest despite her disabilities. Let’s help her make this seminar a success.

Here is some information about the other speakers. Maxwell Ivey, Jr., aka the Blind Blogger, speak about, “Life is like a River: Overcoming Adversity and Moving Forward.” He has a rare, incurable hereditary eye condition that results in blindness. He will have an inspiring lecture about his struggles and how he overcame his disability to become a successful author, speaker, online media coach, and podcast host.

Emmanuel Lee’s topic is, “The Life of a Deaf–Blind Adult.” He will share stories about his life, like facing abuse at home and bullying at school. He’ll tell how the Helen Keller National Center for Deaf–Blind Youths and Adults taught him to adapt to his newfound abilities.

Stephanae McCoy’s topic is “How Losing My Sight Expanded My Vision.” She will share three tips about what she learned to help you also navigate the road to social entrepreneurship.

Chelsea C. Nguyen will have a table center for “Blindness and Adaptive Hands–On Makeup, Hair Styling, and Shaving Demos.” She will give demonstrations on adaptive styling and shaving tools a person with limited or no vision can use. She will give others the opportunities to touch, feel, and practice on a mannequin head.

There will also be an expert panel on Autism, starting with Erica Ploski, MA, LPC, a licensed professional counselor and mother of three children. Casey Ireson is a college senior and public speaker sharing autism awareness and insights from his personal journey. Dr. Paul A. Bensur Jr., who is a published author of Autistic Spectrum Disorder A New Outlook, will also be on the panel.

This will be an inspiring seminar not just for people with disabilities, but for anyone. So come hear me and the others on October 18 at the Tomridge Center, Erie, PA from 10 am to 3 pm. Register now at the site below. Space is limited, so register right away. You can also find out more about the speakers and the conference at this site. Let’s all reach beyond our disabilities and challenges to dance in the light of success.

https://amybovaird.com/disabilityinsights

God worked really hard when he made my grandmother. He put extra love in her heart, warm arms to hug with, and strength that could endure the toughest hardships. I don’t have the right words to completely describe how wonderful my grandma was. She made a big impact, not only on my life, but on the lives of everyone she met. Even while she was sick in the nursing home, struggling, she touched the people around her. She had a glow about her. It shone from the inside out. The glow was God’s light. God placed it within her soul, and it shone so bright that it radiated in her smile, her warm eyes, and in the things she did.

My grandmother never had a lot of money, yet she would give her last pennies to help another in need. I remember holiday meals at my grandparents’ home where Grandma would invite a lonely elderly lady to join us. My dad told us stories where Grandma would give food to strangers when she barely had enough food to feed her eight children. She gave endless love and compassion when she had nothing else to give. While she was in the nursing home, my husband and I brought her cookies we made, and she offered them to some of the other residents. She lost her independence, her home, and almost everything, and yet she was still giving.

As a child, I always felt abundance of love from my grandmother. She didn’t spoil me with gifts, but with love. No matter how bad I felt after being bullied at school, I would always feel better after a hug from Grandma. Grandma was a good listener, and I could talk to her about anything. She always had comforting words to share, and she knew how to make me feel special and important. When I felt rejected at school, I felt accepted at my grandparents. She always believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself.

Grandma could write the most beautiful letters that brought tears to my eyes, and she loved to write them. I believe it is from her I got my writing talent. She beamed with pride each time I read her a story I wrote. Each time I got published, she had to have a copy. She loved my writing, and I was more than excited to share with her my accomplishments. Even while she lay dying, I read her a chapter from my memoir, and in a very weak and low voice, she told me she liked it. Even while life was fading from her, she loved the words I read to her. I believe they gave her comfort.

I never left my grandma’s home without a hug. She hugged everyone, even strangers. Her arms were always warm and gentle. When I brought my friends to my grandma’s, they too had to have a hug, even though she didn’t know them well. I looked forward to her hugs. Her hugs were more than just two arms wrapped around me; they were magical. They lifted me up when I felt down, they filled me with strength, they brought light into my dark soul, and they helped me face a harsh world with courage.

Grandma said that she loved all her grandchildren the same, but in my soul, I felt like her favorite. Ever since I was a child, people said I looked like a younger version of her. I believed that made me extra special. Before I went to writing conferences, Grandma would pick a day to take me shopping. She would buy me two nice outfits for the conference and take me to lunch. She even bought me a suitcase set I still have.

I lived with my grandparents for a bit while I was in college. At church and on the phone, Grandma bragged about my good grades to friends and family. She wouldn’t let me help her around the house. She said my college work was more important. She bought me my favorite foods, and when I got sick she nursed me until I was well again. I just wish I hadn’t been so sick and could have lived with them longer.

Even though I was at the deepest depth of my mental illness, I couldn’t let my grandparents know how sick I was. They enjoyed having me live with them, and I couldn’t crush their hearts with the knowledge I was trying to take my life. Even though she didn’t know, it was her endless gifts of love that kept me from succeeding with suicide. She was the one light I had to hold onto in my darkest times.

Grandma had a deep love for God. She didn’t have to preach the word of God, because she lived in his light. She spread her passion for the Heavenly Father by the life she lived. She gave kindness to everyone around her, she gave endlessly, she never judged anyone, and she touched people with a smile. Her faith is what got her through some very rough times in her life. When her son was killed by a drunk driver, she got on her knees and prayed. When she got in an accident that left a mother childless, she prayed for strength. When she had little money to feed her children, she prayed. God was her strength and guiding light. Her love for the Heavenly Father was so great that you could see it in her eyes and smile. She was the most faithful and religious person I’ve ever known.

My grandma has always been a huge part of my life and will forever remain in my heart. She watched me take my first steps and from heaven she’ll watch me take my exciting steps into publication when I publish my memoir. I believe she will continue to watch me with each new step I will take in my life.

Grandma always said, “Never say goodbye, because I will see you again.” So when I went to see my grandma lying in bed, skin and bones, her glow fading and death calling her, I didn’t say my goodbyes, but instead I told her, “I will see you again.” Some day when it’s my time to go to heaven, I will be reunited with my grandma and I will give her a big hug.

Today, the day this post goes out, I will be sitting at Grandma’s funeral whispering, “I will see you again someday.” No matter how long it takes, I will see her again. Until then, I will live my life to the fullest and use my writing the way God wants me to, to help others. I’ll give from my heart and I will live in God’s light, like Grandma did.

See you again Grandma. You live in my heart and I will always be thankful to be your granddaughter.