I am not a professional in the field of mental health. All my post about mental illness come from what I learned through years of therapy and through research. Always confide in a professional first. My posts are only meant to give you suggestions, educate you and encourage you.
How are you doing? At one time I thought “doing well” meant I was successful, in control of my life, and living a productive life. Living with mental illness changed my definition. Now it means making it through the bad days, finding happiness in small things, celebrating all accomplishments (big and small), and never giving up no matter what happens. Doing well doesn’t always mean that I will no longer struggle. Sometimes it means recognizing I’m struggling and knowing how to cope and when to ask for help. It’s also means knowing I have the strength to keep moving forward no matter how hard things become and to not give up.
Throughout my life the meaning of doing well took on different definitions. In grade school it meant making it through a day without being called a retard. In high school it meant working hard to get good grades and achieving my goal of proving everyone wrong about me. I dreamed of becoming a successful author and returning to my high school to give a speech about bullying. I thought by doing that I would be a success. I had many big dreams for my future and I thought achieving them was the meaning of doing well. I worked very hard to get As and Bs, make the honor roll, and national honor society. To me this meant I would be doing well. But while struggling with mental illness, my definition of doing well changed.
Now doing well has a whole new meaning. It means that no matter how hard days get, how tough life’s struggles are, and what comes my way, I have the determination to push forward. I’m too strong to let my illness take control of me. I will keep fighting to keep my illness under control. I know that recovery doesn’t mean I will always be doing well, but that won’t stop me from working hard to stay in recovery. Doing well means that no matter what happens I will not give up.
My determination helped me to successfully get through high school with a learning disability and it has also helped me reach recovery from mental illness. Even when I sat in the deepest, darkest part of my hole, something inside me wouldn’t let me give up. In college I was very sick and suicidal. I was injuring every day, but something in me kept me going. I forced myself to get up each morning and go to my classes. I was fatigued and sick every morning, but I pushed forward. It would have been easy to lie in bed and dwell in my anguish, but I couldn’t do that. I went to class barely able to keep my eyes open and I studied hard each night while planning my death. My willpower wouldn’t let me give up.
Years later when my ex-boyfriend kicked me out and I ended up in the mental health hospital, I was determined to do what I needed to get better. I took my medication, I met with the psychiatrist, I worked on learning coping skills, and I journaled out my feelings. I was determined to get out of the hospital and to work towards recovery. I could have lain in the hospital bed and allow my illness to take over. It would have been easy to just give in, but I refused to give up.
When I was in the hospital, I decided that I didn’t want to let my illness take control of me anymore. I wanted something better for myself. I didn’t want to lie at the bottom of my dark hole anymore. I decided to climb its walls towards the light. Lots of things threatened to push me back down, but I refused to let them. I wanted to find hope and happiness and I wanted to live a productive life. I wanted it so bad that I refused to let anything get in my way. The only way I could achieve this was to work on fighting my illness by going to therapy, fighting my negative thoughts, finding the right psychiatrist to get medication that would help me, and using all my strength to battle my illness. I knew to be doing well and to reach recovery meant that no matter how hard things got I would not give up.
It could have been easy to give up. Once I got out of the hospital I lost some of my friends and had to end unhealthy friendships. I went to work each day and then home. I had no social life and I felt lonely. I went to therapy each week and cried. My therapist worked with me to help me find ways to cope with my illness, to build my self-esteem, and to fight my negative thoughts. I would take two steps forward and then fall. She gave me homework to do, and I journaled out my feelings to discuss in therapy. No matter how hard I tried it seemed like I kept tumbling backwards. I’d be doing well and then I would go into a deep depression. I was climbing up into the light and then tumbling back down again. It would have been easy to give up, but I couldn’t. I wanted to live a better life. I didn’t want to stay in the darkness.
It took time and lots of hard work to reach recovery, but I did it. Recovery is still a bumpy road. I still have bad days, but there are fewer of them. I still fall, but I know it doesn’t mean I have failed. It is just part of the process. Each day I use coping techniques to keep me going, I take my medicine to manage my illness, and I practice self-care. Health problems, financial struggles, my loved one’s health problems, and many other challenges leave me struggling to stay above the hole, but I keep fighting. What keeps me doing well is my determination to never give up.
What is your definition of recovery? Are you going to let your illness hold you down, or are you going to keep fighting? Working towards recovery is a hard battle, but you can do it. Staying in recovery is a rough road, but it’s worth traveling. You will fall, but you’ll be strong enough to pull yourself up. Know that setbacks don’t make you a failure. It’s just part of the journey. Take each day one at a time. Redefine you’re “doing well” to “not giving up.”
I will keep working hard to stay in recovery, and I’ll always be doing well because I won’t give up. This is what helps me thrive in the light of recovery.
One of the hardest things to do is ask for help. Many of us want to be independent and handle things on our own. I know I thought that way in college. I knew something was wrong with me. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t keep food down, I was depressed, I was suicidal, and I felt hopeless. I thought I could handle it all by myself. I believed if I asked for help, I would be weak. I was wrong.
In college I put on a show for my family, making them think I was okay when I was not. I didn’t know what was wrong with me, and I feared if I asked for help, my family wouldn’t understand. How could they if I didn’t understand it myself? I thought I was losing my mind. I knew deep down something was wrong, but I didn’t know what. If I told my parents what was happening to me, I figured they would think I was crazy or overly dramatic. So, I went to great lengths to hide my inner pain from them.
I lived with my grandparents while I was in college. They enjoyed having me there. They went out of their way to spoil me and encourage me. The last thing I wanted was to be a burden to them. They agreed to allow me to stay with them while I went to college; They didn’t agree to be carrying the weight of a young adult who was feeling very powerful emotions and planning her death. I was afraid it would tear them apart if they knew how sick I was. I didn’t want to be a burden to my parents either. They were taking care of my brother and younger sister who were still in school; the last thing they needed was to worry about me.
I was also ashamed by what I was going through. I had no reason to be depressed: my grandpa checked the fluids in my car every morning, Grandma bought me my favorite foods, and they refused to let me help around the house. My grandma always told me to focus on my studies and not worry about helping. What reason did I have to be depressed, to feel hopeless, to cry easily, and to lie awake each night fighting with my thoughts. I was also ashamed to tell them despite all they were doing for me, that I wanted to take my life.
I was afraid that after rising above bullying to succeed in high school and to graduate with five scholarships that I was failing. I had a hidden hero speech given about me at my graduation, and here I was at college barely able to make it through each day. I fought to keep awake in class, and I threw up in the mornings and before class. I was supposed to enjoy college, make new friends, and be strong, but I felt like I was in a dark cloud. I studied hard in between injuring myself and I got good grades, but that didn’t even make me feel happy. I felt like a failure.
Now years later I think back to how I was afraid to ask for help and wonder what would have happened if I had confided in my parents sooner. I know my mom would have gone to great lengths to find me help, because that’s what she did when I finally told them what I was going through. I would have been diagnosed sooner and could have gotten help before I hit the very bottom of my dark hole. With proper counseling I could have avoided attempts at suicide and learned to cope without self-injuring. I realized that I didn’t have to struggle for so long alone.
Asking for help is a big step in the recovery process. If you don’t feel comfortable turning to a group of people, then pick one person to say, “I’m having a hard time right now.” Choose someone you trust like a family member or friend. Turn to a therapist, doctor, counselor, or another professional. If you struggle with talking about your feelings, then write them down and give them to a friend, a family member, or professional to read.
When I finally asked for help, my mom went to a nearby city to help find me a therapist. I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety. I started going to therapy and reached recovery for several years. When I fell down the dark hole again, I asked for help right away. I knew that I couldn’t reach recovery again without support. I learned that I couldn’t handle mental illness alone.
Asking for help is nothing to be ashamed of. You’re not a failure for being sick. It takes strength to ask for help and it’s an important part of the journey to recovery. You can’t fight this illness on your own. Like any other illness, you need help to get through it. Don’t be afraid to reach out and say, “I need help.” You can’t carry the pain of mental illness by yourself.
It took courage for me to admit I needed help, and because I chose to ask for it, I have been standing in recovery for several years.
With many illnesses recovery occurs in a straight line. You go from illness to wellness. Your illness is gone and you feel better. Mental illness doesn’t go in a straight line. Recovery doesn’t mean you will no longer struggle again. Instead, in recovery from mental illness, you have detours, bad days, and good days. You use coping skills and you learn new ones, you make progress, and you fall.
If you have been fallowing my blog posts, you will see that I have written about struggling with illnesses, death, becoming a caregiver, surgeries, money problems, and so much more. All these things are detours in my recovery. Each one affected me emotionally and left me struggling with my depression and anxiety. Each time I felt like I was falling backwards, but I used coping skills to pull myself up. I also learned new coping skills to help me handle these. There are also days when I feel depressed and I’m not sure why. I just want to cry and lie in bed, but I must force myself to get up and keep pushing forward.
I have had to set boundaries in my life. Boundaries with friends, family, and my job. It’s important to put my recovery first. I have walked away from friends because I couldn’t handle their dramatic lifestyles or negativity. I’ve had to take breaks from friends because what they were going through became too much for me to handle. When my one friend’s brother was very sick, I did my best to be supportive but had to take a couple days break to take care of myself. I work part-time because full-time is too much for me to handle. When I’m called into work early, I have to decide whether I can handle the extra hours or not.
I use coping techniques to not only manage my illness on bad days, but to also make it through each day. My depression and anxiety don’t just disappear because I’m in recovery. Coping techniques help me manage my sickness so I can be happy. I can live a happy life if I cope with the challenges and struggles of living in society. I cope with stressors and detours of everyday life, so I don’t fall down into the hole of darkness. I have coping techniques for my anxiety, so I don’t have an attack that leaves me physically sick. I’m also learning new coping techniques.
I take my medication each day. I have to take medication in the morning, afternoon, and at night. I put my meds in pill containers with the days of the week. I have one for mornings and for bedtime. I carry a pill box with me everywhere I go so I have my afternoon medicine when I need it. If I miss an anxiety pill, I have the dry heaves and I get sick. Once in a while I do forget, but I try to keep on track.
I keep my appointments with my therapist and psychiatrist. For a while I was doing well without a therapist and I just leaned on my support team, but when my loved one was diagnosed with dementia, I knew I needed to take care of him and get help for myself. So, I started back to therapy. Part of being in recovery is knowing when to ask for help. I knew caregiving would be hard to handle mentally, so I found a therapist. I also keep my appointments every two months with my psychiatrist. This is important so that he knows how I’m doing on my medication and if I need any modifications or changes.
I have a support team I can lean on when I don’t see my therapist. My support team listens to me, gives me advice, and encourages me. I call my friend Cheryl my first therapist. I text her almost every day about things I’m struggling with, my worries, and my bad thoughts. A lot of her advice is the same as my therapist gives me. I also lean on my friend Nicky. She’s good at telling me about new coping techniques to try. She also has good advice.
Despite all the work you do to stay in recovery, old feelings come back, you fall, new stressors set you back, and old unhealthy coping techniques can return, but that doesn’t erase the years of progress you made. These are more of those detours in your recovery, and there are ways around them. You can pull yourself back up. You didn’t fail. It’s just part of the recovery process.
I hurt my back and have been going to a chiropractor for four weeks, and I’m not getting better. I feel sad, frustrated, scared, and hopeless. I fear I may have hurt the spot where I had surgery several years ago. Hurting, not being able to bend over, and trying to work while in pain is stirring up my depression. On top of that I struggle taking care of my loved one with dementia, and my dad’s bone cancer has come back. A lot of old feelings have resurfaced. I want to lie in bed and block out the world, but instead I use coping techniques, my support team, and therapy to keep pushing forward.
I look at this setback not as a failure, but as a lesson I can learn. I look at my feelings, my depression, and struggles and think, “What do I need to do? How can I help myself? What have I learned about myself and the detour?”
Recovery is work. There are many detours. It’s how you manage your illness, how you cope, and how you take care of yourself that gets you around them. Don’t let setbacks discourage you or make you think you failed. Push through them and ask for help when you need to. Recovery can be a bumpy road. It’s not a straight line. You move forward and make progress. Then you hit a detour and fall. Next you pull yourself up and push forward. And then you fall again to only pick yourself back up. Despite the ups and downs you’re stronger now and you can handle it.
Each day I work hard to stay in recovery. I have many detours in my life, but I always manage to pull myself up. Because I’m willing to work my way around the detours, I bathe in the light of recovery.
The other day my husband and I went out to eat with my parents, and a past co-worker of my dad stopped to say, “Hi.” My dad told him about his struggles with bone cancer. Today I mentioned to a customer about doughnuts being ten for a dollar this week, and the customer told me he can’t have them because he has diabetes. We easily tell people about illnesses we struggle with, and people listen and show compassion. What if you stopped to talk to an old friend and he or she said, “I’ve been struggling with depression?” Would you show compassion or just act awkwardly or shrug it off like it’s no big deal?
Mental illness isn’t as widely accepted or understood as other sicknesses. Many don’t understand it and there’s a lot of stigma surrounding it. Often people struggling with mental illness hide it behind a smile. They suffer alone because they are afraid of how people will react if they tell them. Some people think those with this illness are dangerous, when most of the time they are only dangerous to themselves. Some think you can choose to snap out of your illness, but you can’t. There are many misconceptions.
I have dealt with some stigma surrounding my own struggles with mental health. When a boss found out I had depression and was a self-injurer, he said I was a danger to the customers and employees. The only person I had ever hurt was myself. When I got out of the mental health hospital people, didn’t show concern and compassion. They asked me why I was in the looney bin, they asked me if I had hurt myself on purpose when I had a paper cut, they watched me carefully around knives, and they judged me. This made me feel angry and sad. I just wanted people to care and show me compassion, but instead they made me feel inferior.
I write this blog so I can spread the word that mental illness is an illness like any other. The person struggling has symptoms, gets treatment, and works towards feeling better, just like any other illness. I willingly tell people I’m a breast cancer survivor, but I don’t tell people too often that I’m in recovery from mental illness. A lot of people congratulate me for surviving cancer, but it would be different with recovery from mental illness.
I’m starting to talk more about my recovery from mental illness because I want people to see that this illness is like any other illness. We are humans struggling with an awful sickness, getting treatment, working towards recovery, and we are functioning in society. The more we talk the more we educate people about this sickness and dispel the stigma that surrounds it.
I’m going to be filmed soon talking about my fight with depression, anxiety, and self-injury for a documentary for One Life Project. I’ll probably become emotional and cry, but it’s important to tell my story. This documentary will be on news stations and on social media. I’m excited to do this because we need to talk more about mental illness, and society needs to hear our stories so they can see we are like anyone else fighting an illness.
So, instead of hiding our sickness, let’s talk about it. Tell people you are dealing with a horrible illness and taking the steps to reach recovery. Tell people about how you reached recovery. Tell people about what mental illness is and that you deserve to be heard. Let’s defy the stigma and show the world we are just like people struggling with diabetes, cancer, heart disease, and so on. Let’s stop hiding and start talking. When someone asks how you’re doing don’t lie and say,
“I’m doing great.” Tell them the truth. Say, “Today is not a good day. I’m struggling with my depression.” If they shrug it off, then educate them about your illness.
I’m going to keep talking about mental illness and find ways to educate people so that someday those who face this illness don’t have to hide it. Talking about it also frees me from fear of judgment and helps me stay in the light of recovery.
Listening to others’ stories about how they struggled with mental illness and worked their way to recovery encourages and educates people. Nicole Galloway Miller is a friend I met years ago when I was self-injuring and struggling with my mental illness. Nicole was struggling too. We became a strong support system for one another. We saw each other through some rough times. In the years I’ve known her I have seen her at her worst and now at her best. She has an inspiring story to tell.
I decided to interview Nicole because her story is very encouraging. Below is my interview with her.
Aimee: What mental illnesses do you struggle with and when were you first diagnosed?
Nicole: Autism, ADHD, anxiety, depression, panic disorder, obsessive compulsive disorder, and PTSD. I was first diagnosed in first grade.
Aimee: How did mental illness affect your life at such a young age?
Nicole: Mostly, I just remember always having intense anxiety and trouble sleeping. It is hard for me, because I assumed everyone was like me and was much better at coping than me. I did not understand then like I do now that my brain works differently. I just always thought I was terrible at coping with stuff and lazy.
Aimee: How has having autism affected your mental health?
Nicole: At its core, autism is a central nervous system disorder. That means my body has much more intense emotional and physical reactions to stress and environmental stimuli like noise, lights, and scratchy fabrics. As I learned that my reactions were normal for me and not everyone experienced the world that way, it improved my depression and anxiety some, but there are other challenges.
My brain processes information differently, too. I went to therapy as a teenager; therapy did not really work until I found a therapist who worked with autistic people. That is the first time I ever made progress in therapy. I was 26.
The key to therapy was actually to not try so hard and constantly push myself, but to take breaks and give my brain and nervous system more rest and recharge time.
Aimee: Tell me about when you hit rock bottom of your illness and how you pulled yourself up?
Nicole: One of my hardest struggles has been employment. I have been trying to maintain a job for longer than one year since I was twenty. I am now forty-three. The last opportunity I tried was an organization that employed autistic people in corporate roles. Unfortunately, my manager there did not know anything about autism. This opportunity ended in a hospitalization where I was having extreme attacks of paranoia so intense I believed my boss was spying on me through my phone and car. I had to resign and I felt like a failure.
However, after getting treatment, resting, and regrouping I have decided to start my own business. This is going well so far. I am working hard and custom orders and opportunities keep coming to me. The biggest lesson autism has taught me is not to give up, but to keep trying.
Aimee: What unhealthy coping techniques did you develop while struggling?
Nicole: I was a cutter. Now I am a smoker.
Aimee: What healthy coping techniques did you learn to cope with your illness?
Nicole: There are so many. Some of my favorites are yoga, deep breathing, meditation, and progressive muscle relaxation. The last two really help me with sleeping. The coping skill I use the most is knitting and crochet. It helps me regulate my emotions, relax, and can be socially acceptable in public places. I even knit standing in lines. I am always trying new coping techniques, too.
Aimee: How did you pull yourself up to where you are happy and functioning in society?
Nicole: In some ways I think I am lucky. I have struggled with this illness for as long as I can remember. There has not been a time when I have not. For me, it has always been about making tomorrow happier and healthier than today has been. I am happy to report that my forties truly have been the happiest years of my life. Every decade of my life, I have struggled a little less and made progress.
Aimee: What advice would you give others struggling with mental illness and working towards recovery?
Nicole: We have a saying in the autistic community that if you meet one person with autism, you’ve met one person with autism. Everyone’s journey is unique. Some of us take longer to do things. Your recovery journey is personal to you and will be done on your own time. Don’t compare your journey to anyone else’s, and above all celebrate the victories. Sometimes, when you are depressed, brushing your teeth is tantamount to climbing a mountain. Celebrate that and give yourself credit.
Below are my thoughts after my interview with Nicole:
We all have stories to tell about our struggles with mental illness. If we talk about our journey, we can help others and educate the world. The more we speak out, the bigger chances we have of spreading light on mental illness and showing the world it is an illness like any other illness. Your story can inspire others to fight for recovery.
By Nicole telling her story, she was able to reflect on her journey and see how far she has come. This helps her stand tall in the light of recovery.
I’m a worrier. It’s part of my anxiety. My worries start small and get bigger. They make me feel tense and nauseated. Sometimes, if my worries get really big, I can’t sleep. I roll around in bed while my mind goes over my worry, making it bigger and bigger. I want to cry, scream, and turn off my brain, but nothing seems to stop it. I silently plead with my mind to quit torturing me, but it rages on.
I write my thoughts down in a notebook for my therapist to read and then we discuss them. I wrote about my obsessive worrying. She told me I need to minimize my worries and evaluate them. If there’s nothing I can do about my worry, I need to let it go. Easier said than done. Then she told me there is something I can do: I need to look at my worry and think about how I can make it smaller. She said I should look at the facts and figure out step by step what I can do to shrink that worry. It sounds easy but it’s hard to do.
My biggest worry is finances. I worry each week we’re not going to have enough money to make it through the week. Then the worry turns into, “We’re going to go broke!” It snowballs until I think that we’re going to lose everything and live in a cardboard box. It makes me sick each week to worry about this.
I text with Cheryl about my worries. She always tells me everything will be okay, but I can’t stop my mind. This week I texted her a breakdown of my worry.
I texted her, “I have $93.00 until Wednesday. I have prescriptions for $36.95, and if I get half a tank of gas, it will cost $25.00. That leaves me $31.11 and Wednesday is four days away. We can make it, right?”
Cheryl replied, “Yea, you can make it. Very good.”
It helped me to look at my worry clearly and made it look less overwhelming. It prevented me from obsessing over how we were going to make it through the week and kept it from getting bigger. I broke it down even further. If we eat meals at home and take short rides, we could make that money stretch. I try to take my husband on rides after work to get him out of the house, and small rides will still get him out.
Recently we got a new to us SUV and the alarm kept going off every time I locked it. On Thursday we dropped it off at a Honda dealer for repairs. I worried about the cost being big. They called and told me the hood latch caused the alarm to go off, the transmission fluid needed to be changed, and we needed a cabin filter. They said it would cost over nine hundred dollars. If I only got the hood latch fixed, they quoted me $604.00. I had the $604.00 left over from the loan, and I could do that. My dad could change the transmission fluid and cabin filter, and I would just have to buy the filter and fluid.
I decided to call my dad, and he suggested I call the dealer I bought the car from and ask if he could give me anything towards the repairs. So, I called the dealer and he said he would send me a check for half the cost of the repairs. I decided I could use the money he sends me for the transmission fluid and cabin filter. The left-over money I’ll put in my savings for future needs. By thinking it through like this it prevented me from worrying about the costs of the repairs.
I’m still working on letting go of worries I can’t do anything about. This one is going to be harder. The minimizing my worries also takes some work. Right now, I’m doing it with financial worries, but I have to work on it with other worries too. What I have been doing is helping. I’m not going to lie to you; this process is not easy. It takes a lot of work. Are you willing to do the work to minimize your worries, before they take control of you? The trick is to catch the worry in the beginning and then break it down.
Even though you’re working on making your worries smaller, there still will be days the worries get out of control. Don’t beat yourself up for it. Just keep practicing until it becomes a habit. I know that I will struggle at times with my obsessive worrying, but I won’t let it get me down. I’m going to keep working at minimizing them until it becomes a part of my everyday routine. Let’s do this together.
I’m working each day on making my worries smaller and by doing this it helps me stay in the light of recovery.
Into the hole of darkness
I have fallen
Defeated and lost,
I cry
Negative thoughts
Torment me
Emotions flood me
I struggle
To climb out
I fall again
I feel hopeless
Hands grasping,
I pray for help
A hand reaches down
Into my darkness,
Pulls me up to the light
With God’s help
I find tools to cope
A renewed strength
To fight
Burns within me
In recovery I stand
Depression sucks life out of you. It’s a heavy burden to carry. It takes away your self-esteem, energy, ability to make decisions, joy and so much more. It’s easier to give up than to fight depression. It’s easier to lie in bed all day than to force yourself to get up and do something. It’s easier to let negative thoughts beat you down than to challenge them. It’s easier to choose death than to choose to face your illness, but giving up isn’t worth it.
There is a light above the dark hole you are dwelling in. There is hope when there seems like there is none. You can become a functioning member of society. You can find happiness and brighter days. You can decide to live and fight this awful sickness. Doing what is hard takes a lot of determination, strength, and energy, but the outcome is worth it. Don’t give up. Fight. I fought and I now live above the hole of depression.
I once thought that there was no way out of my dark hole. Climbing the walls towards the light seemed impossible. My negative thoughts were endless, I couldn’t sleep at night, I had little energy, I hated myself, and my life seemed hopeless. I even planned my death. One night I took a bunch of pills and felt dizzy and sick. Some how I drove myself to college and back in a snowstorm. My only explanation is that God got me there and back. I was ready to give up, but God wasn’t ready to give up on me.
I had turned my back on God. I blamed him for my illness. Why was he allowing me to suffer? Did God make a mistake when he made me? Was God real or a fairy tale? Was he punishing me? I stopped going to church. I lay in bed and allowed the darkness to overtake me. But God did not give up on me. He pushed me forward. He gave me determination to fight even when I thought I couldn’t. He gave me a wonderful mom who searched for help for me. He gave me a good therapist. He gave me people to support me and encourage me.
I’ll be honest with you. Fighting depression and reaching recovery is a brutal battle and it takes time, persistence, determination, and all your energy. It took all of mine to fight it, but God was whispering in my ear, “Don’t give up.” I wanted a better life, I wanted to find happiness, and I wanted out of my hole. I climbed the hole and fell again. Then I got up and started again. I kept pushing myself forward no matter how hard it got. I just wanted to live again instead of just existing.
I have lived through a lot of heartaches and struggles in my life, and I couldn’t have made it through them if I had given up. By fighting I learned that life is full of hard times, heartaches, and challenges, but if you keep fighting you can get through them. Things do get better. There is always sunshine waiting for you beyond the rough times.
Taking your life is permanent, but depression is not permanent. There is no cure for mental illness and you will have bouts of depression, but you’ll be strong enough to pull yourself out of it in recovery. Happiness and a productive life are waiting for you. Don’t take the easy way out. Fight for yourself, fight for happiness, fight for a bright future, and fight for the light. You can do it! I believe in you.
Because I didn’t give up, I live a happy life in recovery wrapped in the arms of God.
Sometimes it seems like life is out to get you. It keeps slapping you with one problem, heartache, or struggle after another. It’s very easy to slip into depression, especially if you’re in recovery or working towards recovery from mental illness. It can seem overwhelming and hopeless. You wonder when will things get better.
Lately it seems like life keeps handing me with one problem and heartache after another. First Esther, our dog, had a lump removed from her leg, and I had to nurse her to recovery. Next the lump’s biopsy came back as cancer, and she got a bad infection that ate through her flesh to the bone. Then finally we had to send her over the rainbow bridge. It’s a heartache my husband and I are still dealing with. But it doesn’t end there.
We took a much-needed vacation to Johnstown where my husband grew up. Before we left the “check engine” sign came on in our SUV. We had it checked and it was the catalytic converter. My dad told me to get stuff to put in the gas to clean it out. It worked. We thought we were in the clear. We drove to many places on our trip and had a wonderful time. Then on the last day we found out my dad’s bone cancer came back and when we got home the check engine light came back on.
My dad does a lot for us. He fixed our furnace, put windows in our home, repaired my cars, put faucets in our sinks, with a friend he replaced the roof on our garage, and much more. He has always come to our rescue, especially now that my husband is sick. He is always supportive and encouraging. I can’t imagine life without him.
The cancer centers in Erie and Cleveland are moving fast to treat my dad. They are worried that the cancer spread, so he got a pet scan. July 7 they are drilling a hole in his spine to do a biopsy. July 8 he’s going to Cleveland Clinic for ten days to get a series of new shots that will make his immune system fight the cancer. We don’t know what side effects he’ll have from the shots.
Fourteen months ago, my dad had a procedure done that was supposed to put him into remission for five years. The procedure involved a very high dose of chemo which has caused him lasting side effects. I can’t imagine him going through even more.
On top of that my dad won’t be able to fix our car, and the repairs and even the cost of the catalytic converter are very expensive. They are beyond what we can afford. We are living paycheck to paycheck. We can’t finance a newer car either, but we can’t keep putting money into the one we have. So, we are searching the internet and car dealerships for an older car with low mileage. My dad told me what mileage to look for.
My husband and I continue to grieve the loss of Esther and adjust to life without her while worrying about my dad. On top of that I am stressed about finding a car we can afford. I already have taken on a lot of responsibilities while my husband is sick, and now I have more. How do I cope with all this? It’s a lot to deal with. The thing that keeps crossing my mind is I can’t lose my dad. I already lost my baby girl, Esther; I can’t lose anyone else.
My therapist tells me to allow myself to cry and to take care of myself; self-care is very important. She says to do things for me. Since my husband got sick, my life has mostly been revolved around taking care of him. Now my dad is sick, I’m focused on how I can help my parents out.
I have been sneaking off to our bedroom to watch TV alone while my husband watches TV downstairs just so I can relax and be free for a little while. After Esther passed, I had lunch with a friend. It was nice to talk and laugh with a friend instead of crying over our loss. Going on a trip was a way to have fun and get us out of the house that seems empty now. I’m writing this blog post and it helps me express myself. My husband and I are going to game night on Tuesday at a friend’s house. This will help keep my mind off everything going on.
I’m doing different things to take care of myself. I’m making sure I take my medication and keep my therapy and psychiatrist appointments. I’m journaling and leaning on my support system. I allow myself to cry. I try to find the positive in my life. I rest when I need to. I practice relaxation techniques like deep breathing and grounding techniques.
I’m taking each day one at a time and leaning on God to get me through this rough time in my life. I feel like life will not stop slapping me with problems, but I remind myself that things will get better.
By practicing self-care I am holding on tight to the light of recovery.
High school is a hard time for teens. They are at the dating age, they face peer pressure, and they work hard to fit in. If you dress differently, are too skinny or too big–boned or have any noticeable difference, you are teased and put down. Many try to change who they are to be part of the popular crowd or to fit in. Bullies are people who act aggressively towards people who are different. They pick out someone whom they determine is weak and abuse the person physically, verbally, or by cyberbullying. They prey on people who dare to be different.
My older sister was in the most current style before the others in our small-town school. She wore lots of makeup and got up early in the morning to do her hair just right. She was beautiful. I just got up in enough time to brush my hair, get dressed, and go to school. Even as a child she was a girly girl. I was always the opposite of her. I was a tomboy. I played with cars and action figures. I didn’t mind getting dirty. My older sister played with dolls and hated getting dirty. My parents loved us for the individuals we were.
I spent my childhood being bullied for having a learning disability and then in high school they found new things to put me down for. As a teen I liked tee shirts, sweatshirts, and jeans. Some of my clothes came from yard sales. I didn’t care about what was considered in style or doing the latest hair style. I hated makeup and nail polish. I was what my classmates and other teens considered an outcast. Many teens in my school picked on me about my clothes and hair. They abused me verbally for being my own person. They made me feel ugly and worthless. I wanted to fit in, but I liked my own style, which was simple.
Then a couple of teachers in my special education class decided to hold a beauty day for all the girls in the class. They had a beautician and makeup artist come in and make us up. I hated every minute of it, but I was willing to give it a try so that maybe I could fit in with everyone else. The eye shadow made my eyes itch, rubbing foundation into my skin felt weird, my eyes watered, making the mascara run, and I couldn’t help but lick my lips, wiping away the lipstick. My hair was curled and styled with a curling iron, and when I looked in a mirror I felt like I was staring at a stranger.
The teachers were trying to help me without realizing they were asking me to change who I was to fit in. I went along with it, and I tried to do lipstick and eye shadow on my own. I tried different hairstyles, but it didn’t change things. I was still an outcast and I only hated myself more. I felt ugly in my new style, and I felt like I wasn’t being true to myself. This only deepened my depression and destroyed my self-worth.
Through this experience I learned to never change who you are to fit in. Be true to yourself even if your classmates and your bully use it to put you down. Trying to be someone you are not only deepens your lack of self-worth and your depression. Be the person, the unique individual, you are meant to be and the person you feel comfortable with. Don’t let anyone change who you are just so you can be accepted by others.
Many teens who dress like the popular crowd are not being themselves. They are often just following the crowd and hiding their true selves. Each one of us has different likes, dislikes, styles, and personalities. Owning our differences and daring to embrace them, even though others don’t agree, is a bold and strong step. We must be true to ourselves whether others like it or not.
As an adult I’m happy to be my own person. I rarely wear jewelry, and I don’t expect my husband to buy me any. The only jewelry I wear is my engagement ring and wedding band. I don’t put makeup on; I feel comfortable with my natural looks. Most of the time I wear tee shirts, jeans, or sweatpants. I like short hair that I can just run a brush through and be ready to go. I have a streak of pink in my hair to symbolize that I am a breast cancer survivor. This is who I am.
Being myself is what lifts my self-esteem and carries me in the light of recovery.
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