Tag: Recovery

MENTAL ILLNESS CHANGED WHAT SUCCESS MEANS TO ME

Published on by Aimee EddyLeave a comment

What is success? I once thought success was getting the highest grades in school and making honor roll. I also thought it meant going to a four-year college and obtaining a high paying job. I dreamed of becoming a famous author, buying a fancy house, and owning an expensive car. I told myself if I could do those things, I would be successful. As I struggled with mental illness, my definition of success changed.

In high school I studied for long hours and gave up fun to obtain high grades. When I made the merit roll, it wasn’t good enough for me. I was determined that I would be successful if I made the honor roll. At the end of the school year, I felt like a failure when I didn’t receive a lot of awards for the hard work I had done. I wanted to show my classmates and teachers that they were wrong about me.

I did make the honor roll, the honor society, and I had a hidden hero speech given about me when I graduated from high school. I was successful. I had big plans for my life. I would go to a two-year college and then a four-year college. I would graduate with honors and get a job at a major newspaper as a journalist. Then I would live a successful life.

Mental illness changed that.

In college just getting out of bed became a struggle, but I forced myself to do it. Going to class when I was fatigued and sick with anxiety was a challenge, but I did it. Getting good grades in college while I was depressed, suicidal, and self-injuring was a battle, but I did it. I didn’t realize it back then, but now that I think of it, I was successful. I chose to push forward when I had little strength to do it, and that was success.

I had to take a year off from college to work on my mental health. I started therapy and I began to see a psychiatrist. I was determined to get well enough to return to college in a year. I worked hard in therapy, I started making new friends at work, and in time I reached recovery. I returned to college on a part-time basis. I could have given up on college and lay in bed dwelling in my inner anguish, but I refused to do that. I made taking time off from college a successful adventure.

Three years after I graduated from college, I fell down that dark hole again. I soon learned that success wasn’t just big accomplishments; it was the small things I did to keep myself going and to battle the depression. Success was when I turned to a program through work to help me find a therapist, it was deciding to get out of bed each day, it was forcing myself to go to work, it was taking a shower when I had no energy to take one, it was taking my medication, and learning how to cope with my illness.

Success came when I sat in a mental health hospital and made the decision, I would work towards recovery no matter how hard it would be. It was a tough battle to fight my negative thoughts, to learn a new way of thinking, to find the right medication to stabilize the symptoms of my illness, and to learn coping techniques. I wanted to give up many times. I’d start climbing the walls of my dark hole, I’d be inches from the light, and I’d fall. Then I would keep forcing myself to climb that wall until I reached the light. That is success.

While in recovery, several surgeries and breast cancer threatened to push me down, but I coped and stood tall in the light. There are still days I struggle with my depression, but I work through it to stay above the hole. I make sure I take my medication and go to therapy sessions. I’m learning new coping techniques and turning to my support team when things get hard. I find strength when everything seems hopeless. I manage my illness each day and I find joy in my life. That is success.

What is your definition of success? Is it a well-paying job, expensive car, and a big home, or is it the small steps you take to work towards recovery and to stay in recovery? Did you get out of bed today after spending several days in bed? Would you consider that success? Did you struggle with challenges in your life, and you used coping techniques to get through them? Doesn’t that make you successful?

Success isn’t what money can buy or what prestige you achieve in society. It’s in the small steps you take to fight this awful illness. It’s in your determination to work towards getting better and staying better.

I’m not just successful because I published a book and won awards. I’m also successful because I decided to fight my mental illness to flourish in the light of recovery.

SOMETIMES DOING WELL SIMPLY MEANS NOT GIVING UP

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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.

RECOVERY HAS DETOURS

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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.

LET’S TALK ABOUT MENTAL ILLNESS

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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.

DON’T GIVE UP

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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.

WHEN LIFE KEEPS SLAPPING YOU

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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.

TIPS FOR RECOVERING FROM AN ANXIETY ATTACK

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Anxiety attacks are different for everyone. Many experience symptoms like chest pain, dizziness, panic attacks, throwing up, and so on. One thing strugglers have in common is that the attack takes a lot out of them. It’s hard to go through both physically and emotionally, and it’s hard to recover from an anxiety attack.

The other night I had an anxiety attack. I threw up and then my whole body started shaking uncontrollably. My husband held me and rubbed my back until the shaking eased. That night and the day after I felt weak, fatigued, and drained emotionally. I couldn’t think clearly. Handling the attack afterwards is what helped me get back on my feet. So, I put together a list of tips for recovering from an anxiety attack.

Here is my list:

  • Rest. If possible, take a day where you do nothing but rest. Don’t do daily chores, run errands, or do anything strenuous. If you’re married, let the husband take care of the kids. If you work, rest after work. If you have too much to take care of, then find time in your day to take a breather. I spent a day lying on the couch watching TV. It was my day off from work.
  • Take a hot bath or shower. Taking a hot bath or shower helps the body relax and eases any tense muscles. If you have a bathtub, try an Epsom salt bath. Take your time soaking in the steam and heat. My friend suggested I take a bath after my attack, and it felt good.
  • Practice relaxing techniques. Listen to music you love. Do self-guided relaxation. Pet your fur baby or someone else’s. Practice deep breathing techniques. Spend some time off social media. I did deep breathing and I petted my fur baby.
  • Talk to someone. If you have a support system, talk to someone from the system, or talk to a friend or family member. Talking about your feelings will help you heal emotionally. I talked to my husband and my friends. My friend Nicky even checked up on me the next day.
  • Watch a funny movie. Watching a funny movie won’t cure you, but it will distract you. Watching something lighthearted will help with regulating your emotions. Something sad or intense can increase the emotions that sent you into an anxiety attack.
  • Journal. Put your feelings down on paper. Getting those feelings out keeps them from building up and causing another attack. I wrote in my journal, which is very comforting to me.
  • Process later. Wait to process why you went through an anxiety attack and how you can prevent it right after you have it. Give yourself time to practice self-care and heal your body and emotions. I waited until a couple days afterwards when I no longer felt fatigued and emotionally drained. I felt better and that made it easier to think about why I had an attack.

Anxiety attacks are hard to go through. Give your body and mind a break afterwards. Try these tips to help you recover from an attack. If these don’t help, find ones that will help you. Talk to your therapist about ways you can recover.

Using these tips to recover from anxiety attacks helps me bathe in the light of recovery.

NEW EYES AND A NEW LOOK AT LIFE

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I had my second cataract surgery on my right eye on Monday, December 8. The surgery went well without any complications. It was strange; I could hear the doctor and nurses talking and I felt pressure on my eye, but no pain. I wasn’t awake, but I wasn’t completely asleep either. The doctor put a patch on my right eye, and when the nurse took it off the next day the world around me changed.

I got my first pair of glasses in fourth grade. I tried not to wear them as much as possible, but that made seeing difficult. As the years went by, the lenses got thicker. They grew heavier and I had to constantly push them up. I tried to get thin frames, hoping it would make the glasses less heavy, but it didn’t help much. I became accustomed to my bulky glasses. They became a part of me. Every morning, I put them on, all day long I pushed them up, and every night I took them off. It was a routine.

Mental illness is like wearing glasses. We don’t want to admit we have it, so we avoid it as much as possible. Then the racing thoughts, negative thinking, hopelessness, and loss of self esteem grow thicker and thicker. We become accustomed to it and begin to live our lives in darkness. We believe the mental illness has become a part of us. We wake up to it, we drown in it all day long, and we go to bed with it.

With my eyes, cataracts made seeing extremely difficlt. I used a bright light and a magnifying glass to see better. When I went through cataract surgery on my left eye, things started to look brighter. Then I went through cataract surgery on my right eye and when they took the patch off, I could see everything better. I could see a brighter and better world. I was amazed at what I could see without glasses. It was like I got new eyes.

 Some things remain hard to see like words in a book and the guide on the TV. I got a pair of readers but will eventually need prescription glasses to see words on the TV and signs in the distance while driving.

Similar to cataracts, mental illness makes life look like a never-ending road of sadness. You use a therapist, medication, coping techniques, and a psychiatrist to help you find your way to the light. You fight a battle with your illness and in time life begins to look brighter. You take medication to balance the chemicals in your brain, and you change the way you think. Then you climb out of the dark hole and see a brighter and better life. But you still need medication and coping techniques to continue in the light of recovery.

Getting surgery for cataracts gave me a new look at the world, like reaching recovery gave me a new look at life. Since my vision was bad, cataract surgery couldn’t repair my vision completely. Recovery from mental illness doesn’t cure a person completely. There is nothing wrong with having extra aid to get through. I can’t see without glasses to read, and I can’t stay in recovery without coping techniques and medication. Cataract surgery wasn’t a complete cure for my vision, and recovery doesn’t mean I’m cured of mental illness.

There may not be a cure for mental illness, and you will need coping techniques to get through bad days, but your world will look brighter. Just like my world looks brighter after my cataract surgeries. You can live a happy life and find joy. So, I encourage you to fight for recovery and learn to see your life differently.

I not only see the world differently because of cataract surgery, but I see life differently because I stand in the light of recovery.

CATARACT SURGERY

Published on by Aimee EddyLeave a comment

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

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

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

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

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

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

I looked at her. “I’m a cashier.”

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

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

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

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

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

I couldn’t help but laugh.

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

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

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

CELEBRATING MY THIRTY YEARS

Published on by Aimee EddyLeave a comment

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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