depression

Writing Retreat Weekend, Day 2

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Outside
I took a quick walk around the front of the retreat center. It was a beautiful day, and I should have walked more than I did, but my legs have been giving me a lot of trouble this weekend. I’m not sure why, so with Christmas in just about two weeks, I had better play it safe.

The sun was bright, the sky that perfect blue. I had intended to wander down to this cross that was carved out of the tree stump, but they’ve removed all of the benches. I’m assuming that is to get the grounds ready for winter.

However, that didn’t stop me from checking this out and another tree stump on my way back up to the picnic table. I sat out there reading for a bit, and was so enthralled with what I was reading that the retreat director had to come out and get me for lunch!

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We continued our writing with courage and hope. There are so many things that I’m feeling. Talking to my tablemates and hearing different things from the video (Rob Bell – I believe you can look him up on You Tube) and the musical selections like Star Child by David Haas.

I’m hoping this weekend gives me the push and the anchor that gets me through the rest of the year.

The Day After the Day After

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[Author’s Note: This isn’t meta per se, but it does contain spoilers, however vague for The Walking Dead and Harry Potter. If you have not seen TWD 6:3 or read Harry Potter: The Deathly Hallows, you might want to skip this.]

For those of you who are fans of an ongoing series, whether it be movies, books or a television series will understand the emotional upheaval that comes with the loss of a character so integral to the story; at least in your mind’s view of the characters and the story. Now, I’m almost positive (about 98% sure) that this character is coming back in two weeks, but that doesn’t change the initial feeling of seeing someone you have come to love over the past five years suddenly, and unexpectedly die. Horribly.

The initial ‘oh crap, he’s in a real pickle’ to ‘wait, why isn’t he getting out of said pickle’ to ‘OMGWTFISHAPPENING?! NOOOOOO! NOT HIM!!!!!!’ can suddenly propel you into a deep sadness and sense of denial; deep denial.

I’ve been there, in denial, since the episode aired, and I’m going to stay there for a bit longer. It was one of the reasons I didn’t post yesterday; I just didn’t feel it. I’m only know coming back.

That is the only way I can explain what happened to me between approximately 9:45pm on Sunday night and pretty much right now.

The last time I had this happen so intensely was in the summer of 2007 when JK Rowling killed Fred Weasley. I don’t care who actually said the spell, the Killing Curse, JK’s responsible and she knows it. And no, JK, if you’re reading this, I still have not forgiven you. That emotional upheaval sent me to Live Journal and down the rabbit hole of a world of fan fiction and meta and other passionate fans of all stripes, and it’s safe to say my life will never be the same.

I wouldn’t call what I’m feeling depression. Despite the lethargy, the not wanting to get out of bed, loss of appetite except for the cheese doodle craving, the rewatching of the offending episode, the constant thought processes figuring out his last minute escape, I know that this isn’t a clinical depression or even a situational one. However, that doesn’t mean that these feelings are not real.

It’s very real.

Especially for those who have little by the way of in person family and friends, who find comfort in the escape of a television series that they love, who find a strong support network in fandom.

For some of us, it’s just plain fun. For others, it’s escape; it’s coping; it’s so many things that unless you experience it, you can’t begin to name them all, and they come in multiples as well: fun and escape. Fun and coping. Coping and inspiration.
For me, it’s many of those things.

For those, even those in my own household, who say it’s only a TV show, yes, it is, but it is also more, even to them. Why else would they block out at least an hour each week to watch it? I’ve mentioned that in our family, this is the biggest fall season I can ever remember. My oldest son does a lot of his watching on the internet, but for the rest of us, we have our shows and we love them and we get together practically every day to share in the experience of a new episode.

We watch; we predict; we laugh; we cry. Sometimes we live vicariously through them. I wouldn’t want to experience a zombie apocalypse but I’d like to think that I have the will and the ability to survive it; to continue to live my life; to not lose myself in this new chaotic world.

That is one of the things this character in particular embodied. While other characters changed for the worse, and others have changed for the better, and we learn something from all of them, this character has an inherent goodness that is needed in this seemingly no good future world. He is good, and he’s kind. He’s compassionate and he shows mercy; sometimes when maybe he shouldn’t. But he’s kept his moral compass focused, and to lose that is to lose something special and significant.

I know he’s coming back.

But he might not. Or escaping this, he might die later on in the series.

That’s what I’m mourning these last two days. We’re going to lose him, and we’re going to need to cope with that loss. This was a test of some sort, but all it showed us is how ill-prepared we are and we will be when this character and others like him don’t make it.

What happens when he’s really dead?

The other characters will move on. They’ll mourn, and they’ll cry. They’ll be angry and take their frustrations out maybe where they shouldn’t, but they, along with us will get through it somehow.

We’ll always get through it somehow.

Life isn’t a dress rehearsal, but in recreating lives on television or in books, we get a little bit of a dress rehearsal where we can see our reactions to losing someone we love, to seeing the good in people, and in being able to change our own selves for the better while we still have the chance.

It’s one of the reasons we gravitate towards characters that are both so alike and so different from ourselves. Just in the episode, we saw a character change for the better even if he couldn’t handle the realities of this world.

But that doesn’t mean we give up on the rest of those characters who need to change; who want to change and are changing right before our eyes.

He’s is the only one with enough heart to take them under his wings and teach them to fly; teach us to fly. There is still much to learn and much to do. We need him to guide us there.

While I know he’ll be back, I’m still also mourning. We still lost something. Only time will tell what that is.

Fall Television, Mondays, and October

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I mentioned last week that I was out of town, and so I missed a few days here. My plan for the fall is to have new posts Monday through Friday, and see how that schedule goes for me, as, a writer and you, the reader. I’ll be putting up a poll later to see which of those daily features you’d like me to continue this season.

Each week, I have tried to choose a theme and keep it in mind to focus on. October is one of those extremely busy months in actual activities in my life, and monthly awareness in the world. World Mental Health Day was just a few days ago. October recognizes awareness and celebrations of:

Breast Cancer
Domestic Violence
Fire Prevention and Safety
LGBT History
Black History in the UK
Literacy
Pregnancy and Infant Loss
The Holy Rosary

Yesterday was National Coming Out Day and today is Columbus Day in the US, Thanksgiving in Canada, and Day of the Race in Mexico.

October is also ridiculously busy for me with family fun and stuff going on at the schools with fall festivals, back to school nights, recreation nights, eight week writing workshop, applepicking, my son’s birthday, Halloween, and this year, our school district celebrated its Centennial.

Busy.

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Mental Health Monday – MY Coping Tools

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For this penultimate Mental Health Monday for Suicide Prevention Awareness Month, I thought I would offer a few of my personal coping mechanisms and tools. I usually go through my things that work until they don’t and then go for the less good ones. You never know which combination of tools and mood will break out of those bad days.

As much as I love fall, October in particular, I find it a bit more stressful than the rest of the year (until late spring). It’s hectic. The school’s want so much, the weather changes throughout the day from summer to later fall, and then back again. We’re close enough to Christmas that we’re worrying how we’re going to pay for it all. The church is beginning its new year at the end of November, and this year I have a few new responsibilities on that front. My son’s birthday is in October, and from then until the anniversary of my mother’s death the first week in December, it’s like a ticking bomb, counting down to her death, like it did in retrospect eleven years ago.

I try to get myself set up with a retreat; not always feasible especially monetarily. I also have my writing group that meets for eight weeks in the fall. Except that it was cancelled last week for this season. *headdesk*

I guess in addition to giving you some helpful hints and resources, I’ll probably be using many of them myself.

First is my writing workshop. I need it. Desperately. My plan? Go to the library anyway at the time the workshop would have taken place, and work on my two books. They’ve been waiting in the wings for too long. One is a travel, essay, spiritual journey to and about Wales, and the second is the horror of buying my house. The first one is too much emotion, and the second one is too much anger, so I can’t handle them for very long. Now, I have a dedicated eight weeks to put a dent in their outlines and direction.

Second is it’s list season. I’ve told my family already: If it isn’t on my list, it doesn’t exist. I knew they knew I was serious when they didn’t comment on my little rhyme. My advice is to put absolutely everything on the list, including reminders to eat and go the bathroom. You’d be surprised how often you’ll forget without that check up on yourself.

My list for tomorrow looks something like this:

Kids to school
Get dressed
Mass
Target – toilet paper and Dawn
Groceries – cheddar cheese, rice, and Yartzeit candles (for Yom Kippur)
Breakfast
Continue cleaning my work space while Supernatural plays in the background
Write Friday’s fandom post about Gishwhes
Check Gishwhes site for updates

Seriously, no item is too small or too big. Too big use several steps, so break them down and pat yourself on the back when you complete something.

Third, I mentioned Supernatural as background noise. This is my comfort sound, especially the earlier seasons. Find what you like but don’t need to pay 100% attention to. It could be music. Talk radio. Nature sounds. We all have that one thing. Find yours.

Fourth, comfort food. Macaroni and cheese is an old standby (Kraft in the blue box), but last week I had the most intense craving…..and then I had the most amazing peanut butter and banana sandwich on toasted wheat bread that I have had in a long time. It was……fantastic.

Fifth, it’s okay to just sit and do nothing. Watch TV. Listen to music. Read a book or better yet, a magazine, so you don’t need to give it the same attention as a book. Take a nap if it will help.

Sixth, catch up on Netflix. I can heartily recommend Sense8 (warning for language, sex, adult situations, and violence) and Parks and Recreation (warning for sexual talk and adult situations).

Seventh, take care of yourself. Say no to people if you don’t have the spoons. It’s okay, and don’t apologize for taking care of yourself.

Mental Health Monday – Belonging Spaces

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Before I talk about belonging spaces, I would like to briefly introduce my philosophy about depression. No matter how many therapy sessions you go to, no matter how many medications you take, depression is always there, just below the surface, trying to control you. You’re job is to control it. We all have different levels of depression, but I do believe that recovering from depression is a continuous recovery. It’s not the twelve steps of alcoholism, but I have a similar philosophy to that, in that I always need to be aware of the ebbs and flows of my mental health, and pay attention to when I need to bring extra coping mechanisms into play.

One of the things that I learned as I began my climb out of severe depression and into depression recovery was that I needed a belonging space. We have a decent sized house for our family, but none of the spaces were solely mine and in the depths of the worst of it, I spent a lot of time sitting in my car. It was quiet and I was alone, but it was also bleh.

I don’t drink coffee, but I do like Starbucks. I could nurse a cup of tea for about an hour and recoup some of my personality there.

During the worst of it, I also found that lists helped me get through the day, and I still  find myself revisiting them.

These are some of my tools that I will talk about later as I post about suicide prevention and prevention awareness.

One of my favorite belonging spaces is somewhere I used to visit during the worse times, but I still go there today for a smile.

Before I began on my depression medication, before I even new there was a problem with my mental health, I was on medication for high blood pressure, so I needed to pick up my meds at my pharmacy every month. When we moved to our house several years ago, I did not want to switch from our small town family run pharmacy to a big box drugstore chain, so I travel about thirty minutes to get there, once a month.

Each month, without fail, I’d travel the thirty minutes, and take a quick tour of the town, our old apartment, downtown to the street that has the post office and city hall, but inevitably, each time, I would find myself at the local natural attraction, the Falls.

I have never liked water, especially big bodies of water, but I have always enjoyed waterfalls, no matter what their size. For some reason, I find them soothing.

Over the years, the surrounding viewing areas of these falls have been built up, and they’ve added two new parks with historical kiosks and benches, and all sorts of floral and fauna. It’s just beautiful.
Instead of spending fifteen minutes sitting in my car in silence, I would get out and walk around the smallest park, sit on a bench, and listen to the water rushing over the side and splashing at the bottom, into the river. I’d close my eyes, and not think about anything. There was usually a cool breeze, and I’d let it blow over me, through my hair and across my closed eyelids. I’d breathe in whatever smells were there. It’s a city park, but it has such appeal. In front of me were the powerful falls, and behind me were the apartments, the former housing units of the nearby mills from the 19th century when these Falls were just as popular then as Niagara Falls is today.

I’d stand as close as I could, which was not very close, and I’d take a picture to post on my Facebook. Sometimes, I’d record the sound of the falls on my phone to listen to later.

This is my belonging space. It is sacred to me, and no matter what else was going on in my life or in my head, this place had, and continues to have a way of calming me, and letting me re-energize myself to go home and continue on until the next month; or at least until the next therapy session.

Before my corner office, before my visits to church, before my writing group, this was my space that held my hand, and squeezed my shoulders.

Try and think of your own belonging spaces that you can use to regroup and move forward. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy or elaborate. I’ve used the corner of the food court at the mall. Give it a thought and be well, and please remember, you are never alone.

Called

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The imaginary lightbulb hovers over your head. We all metaphorically slap our foreheads wishing we’d had that V-8. We’re thrilled with our secular epiphany that we’re practically skipping along with excitement and trying to share it with anyone and everyone we meet.

In the church, I’ve found that they use different words to describe this sensation: their mission, a ministry, a calling.

It was brought home to me so clearly last year at my Rite of the Elect, signing the book of the Elect. I was called by name. G-d had my name long before I entered my church on happenstance. I was called by name again at my confirmation when I chose my saint.

This past week was my Diocese’s Spring Enrichment. I know I’ve mentioned it before. This week is one of those weeks that fills me with excitement, with dozens of light bulbs popping on, hovering over my head. I’m loving every minute of it. I had a full schedule of fourteen classes. I chose everything with a little help from my friend, and I can’t wait for next year to see the offerings. I don’t think I’ll take fourteen classes again, but I have some ideas of what kinds of classes I want to take now that I’ve got the hang of it.

I spent this week leaving some more of my shell behind. My comfort box is collapsing under the weight of hearing myself and the response to what I’m feeling and saying. My opinions and beliefs aren’t changing but the way I’m explaining and expressing myself is. I don’t expect to agree with everyone, but I do want to be able to have rational discussions.

I took a Pastoral Care and Depression class. I chose this, not because I’m a pastoral care associate, but because I have depression. I’ve had depression all of my life. It is only in my diagnosis and looking back that I can see all of the signs, the symptoms. I asked questions in class, I offered insights. I was able to bring up thoughts about how to support LGBT youth in the church – the heightened abuse, homelessness, and suicide of that age group. I was able to offer what not to say to a suicidal person, and what’s worked for others in that position. I asked about gender identity. Between Social Justice, Everyday Divine, and Pastoral Care and Depression, I found a little niche of note taking.

In the middle of that class, I had a lightbulb moment. I felt a calling. I can’t describe it as anything other than being called. One moment I was taking notes, the next moment, I was thinking how I could bring my experiences to the people who need it in my parish. How can I protect and support people who think that the church won’t be there for them and their struggles, whatever they may be?

This also fit in with the whole theme of the keynote address, taking the history of the church and looking at the aging of the church. The average age in the US is 37, but the average age of white Catholics is 45. In my parish, the ones that I primarily see are older than that. I bring up age because many of the people with the struggles – LGBT equality and issues, depression and mental illness, money – are in the younger demographic, but those caring for them are a bit older. This older group lived in a time (and some still feel this way) of stigmatizing mental illness, of don’t ask, don’t tell, of pink for girls and blue for boys. Much of this is a product of their times. Everyone I’ve met though are exceptionally giving and helpful. It’s not a matter of being unwilling to be supportive, but not knowing how to.

I’m somewhere in the middle. I’m in the older demographic of the forties and being a white Catholic, albeit a new Catholic, but I’m in touch with a younger generation. I have different thoughts about LGBT. I have the experience of having depression, and having been suicidal for a time. I have coping techniques that I can share. I evangelize and witness, but I also ask questions. Apparently, you can teach an old dog new tricks. At least I try.

I’m not sure where I’m going with this, but I’m called, and I feel the tug of actually using my experiences to help others. I was told recently to think about this and pray on it, and that is what I plan to do. However, my writing is part of my life and my ongoing therapy and recovery and spirituality, and here are my first thoughts about being called. Sometimes it feels a little overwhelming, but I do know that I wouldn’t be given more than I can manage.

It’s not the first time I’ve been called, but it does seem to be the most important calling because it affects so many others, both in my life and not yet in my life.

Recs – Depression and Anxiety Distraction and Recovery Journal

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I found this fantastic resource for those of us with depression and/or anxiety to use. It has resources and distractions for when you’re having a bad day.

As always if you need professional help or if you’re feeling suicidal, call the Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255.

The authors put this journal together as part of Random Acts‘ Annual Melee of Kindness (AMOK) and have kindly given me permission to promote it. Take a look and download it for yourself. Enjoy and best of luck in your journey.

Rec – Mental Health Resources

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First and foremost, if you are in immediate danger to yourself or others, call the Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255

After my best friend, this was the second number in my speed dial directly after my diagnosis. My doctor told me that the medicine would help, but first, I would feel better about suicide and to be sure to have that number handy. Depression is a scary place, but it is much less scary in the light, and diagnosed and treated than hidden away or hiding from it.

Second, I think that these resources can be used successfully by all varieties of mental illness and mental health issues. We are all individuals and react differently to different stimulus. Try it, and if you don’t like it, try something else. You will find the support you need.

Some of the other resources/strategies I’ve found helpful:

1. I found wandering into church a good place to sit and contemplate. You don’t have to be a Christian to do this by the way. I knew, but it was confirmed the first several times I went during an off-hour that no one will bother you. No one will interrupt your contemplation, meditation, prayer. No one will ask you to leave and no one will ask you why you are there. It gave me a place to go when I had nowhere to go just to be, and to think.

2. Be alone in a crowd. I’ve recommended Starbucks before, and for a $2 cup of coffee you can sit and sip as long as you like in most places.

3. My Resource List (link here and on the left). There are phone numbers for depression hotlines, suicide prevention, grief support, and I hope to add more websites. Please comment with those that have helped you, and I can add them to my list. Currently, it’s exclusive to the US, but if my readers are from elsewhere in the world and want to share their resources, I will be glad to add them.

4. I get a lot out of writing therapy. It’s not necessarily a diary or journal, but all kinds of writing makes me feel alive. Is there something that you love to do? Try it again.

5. Later on this afternoon, I’ll be posting a Coping Skills Toolbox that I found online. This is an excellent resource and a positive thing you can do to help for those rough patches.

 

Good luck and my best to all of you.

 

Inspirational – Christopher Reeve

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Ten years ago today, I was having labor pains at St. Peter’s Hospital. The television was on. Christopher Reeve died on this day a decade ago, my middle son was born in two days and my Mom died in fifty-seven.

That year began an unconscious depression that usually lasts from October 12th until December 8th. It’s a hovering cloud of darkness that overshadows everything else. It took me a long time to go from this is the first Christmas without my mother and my son’s first Christmas to this is my son’s first whatever. I’m not sure it left at all that first year.

I hadn’t realized the depression that I was in. Rampant mood swings, emotional outbursts of all kinds, hysterics, but somehow I managed to take care of my two boys. Of course, my husband helped, but there was no help for me. What was happening to me was that the dam broke and mental issues that have plagued me since childhood burst through. I wouldn’t know this until eight years later when things came to a head and I was finally diagnosed.

There literally is a rock bottom and I was down in it. There wasn’t always understanding but without the support and reassurances from a good friend, I don’t think I’d be here today. I got medical treatment and professional therapy as well as being hyperaware of what was going on in my head and with my body.

I don’t think you can say that there’s a cure for depression; nor many of the other mental ailments that are invisible but that thousands of people live with daily. For me there are constant checks and balances, awareness and coping tools that sometimes include hiding out and often include writing, an amazing positive for my mental health and in my life.

Next week, I plan on sharing some of these coping tools as well as others’ coping mechanisms. I find that a wide range of means of managing the unprompted reactions to each of our own mental illnesses gives us strategies for getting through those rough patches that often seem rougher when we have no control over them.

These tools give us that control, even if sometimes it tells us, stay in bed for an extra ten minutes or get up and eat breakfast and get a dose of energy.

Sometimes it takes a combination of things to get us into a beneficial place, and that place can last one day or a week or more. Or less, which is why it is good to have another strategy ready to try out.

On this tenth anniversary, I’ll share Christopher Reeve’s quotation from Wednesday because it really gave me valuable insight into never giving up. We can slow down for whatever causes that slow down, but never give up. That road will still be there when you’re ready to take that next step, and that will that he’s talking about doesn’t always come from a deep, inner place, but sometimes we need our strategies to get us to that place where we do summon the will. It’s different for each of us.

“So many of our dreams at first seem impossible, then they seem improbably, and then, when we summon the will, they soon become inevitable.”

 

Dana and Christopher Reeve

Dana and Christopher Reeve