Summer is Ending

Hello, my dear lovelies. I hope all is well in your corners of the universe.

In the lush emerald green of a Canadian summer, I've been trying to connect myself, but time and time getting pushed away by my own increasing depression. I sit in the house so much, filling out applications and despairing when I can't keep my anxiety under control. It is why I haven't been updating. I've felt weak, uninspired, and disconnected.

But I can't always avoid the cure-all that is Mother Nature. Even just having one window open all day and evening drastically lifted my spirits. A short walk in the sun felt glorious to every inch of my body. I felt renewed each time; picked up just a little bit more until I was no longer sludging along the ground like a slug, instead standing a little higher, a little taller.

Increased time with close friends has also helped me a great deal, especially with Liat and Alora, best friends who live together in an adorable little apartment with their dog, Monkey. Not only is it a lot of fun and laughs, but it's helping me gain more personal independence.

And my Cipralex dosage was increased to the maximum, 20mg. I've been on this higher dose for a week now and have had no negative side effects to speak of, except for insomnia that I've had for ages anyway. I would really love to gradually switch to something herbal, but for now I marvel at modern medicine working in my brain and helping me to not be in a dangerous mental place any more. Because life is far too precious, my friends.

Now some trees are changing because Mother Nature seems to think it's September instead of August. The nights have been downright chilly and the days much cooler than they had been. It's slowly heating up again, but I realize autumn is not far off. The Wheel still turns, and I sit and ponder why it has turned so fast. It seems like just yesterday was January.

I have done a few more things in my 100 Things to Do in 2013 list, awesomely! Yes, awesomely is a new word.

22. Learn to swim.
I'm still working on this one, and as much as I seem to fear the water, it will take me time. I improve bit by bit every time I try. On Monday I spent 3 1/2 hours in my friends' building's indoor pool and had a blast. I'm going again on Sunday/Monday and hope to see even more improvement.

62. Continue learning personal independence.
I mentioned this above. This task for 2013 was very important to me. My anxiety issues have caused me to cling hard to Trevor since the beginning, and thank the Universe he is a very patient and understanding man. Travelling alone to be with friends, spending the night or weekend with Liat and Alora, and doing things as simple as grocery shopping on my own and going wherever I please. It's made a world of difference in my life, especially lately, and I'm no longer clutching Trevor's apron strings (lol! now isn't THAT a mental image!). I suddenly know a freedom that has no bounds other than lack of money, haha!

65. Get a cell phone.
Yeah, yeah, I'm the last young adult in western society to not own a mobile. But I'm no longer putting it off. I have my MIL's Blackberry Curve that I'm going to unlock and take in to Koodo to get a monthly plan. Having a mobile will increase my feeling of independence even more. I'm looking forward to getting to text my friends and use things like Foursquare. :)

86. Have coffee grounds or tea leaves read.
This is something I vowed to do this year after learning that Liat's mom has been reading coffee grounds for over two decades. Why not, I thought with a little shrug. I honestly don't know how much I believe in this world, but I do know there is far more than what meets the eye. Call it another plane that interacts with this one, or magick, or what have you, but there is something there. And I am open to almost anything.

Susie, Liat's mom, doesn't know me very well, but I absolutely adore her. She's a sweet little Israeli beauty full of spitfire and fun; a strong lady who recently fought breast cancer and not only won, but stomped it hard into the ground and set its remains on fire. For years Trevor has called her his second mom.

Her birthday was this past week, so on Sunday we had a little dinner party for her at Liat and Alora's place. After finishing our meal, Liat made Turkish coffee and I was instructed to put the saucer over the cup and turn them both over so that the cup was upside-down on top of the saucer. We waited a little while, then Susie picked up my cup and saucer and looked hard at them for a while, turning the cup this way and that and studying the patterns the coffee grounds had made.

She told me that hardships were ending, that things were about to make a turn for the better and that my incessant worrying would soon see relief. She said something good was coming, such as a job or a move, and that I have a very important (and good!) letter coming in two or three months' time. She said that I need to stay connected to the family I have deeply bonded with recently, and she saw that I had lost someone dear to me. When I told her my mom died last November and Dad back in 2009, she smiled and said they were okay and were watching over me. She concluded by saying that I am closely surrounded by many people who will raise me up in happiness and love, in particular three females who will help me the most.

So that was really interesting, I thought, and we'll see what comes of it. Especially the letter! I have an idea of what it might be, but again, we'll see.

My biomom shared a really nice graphic with me on Facebook earlier. It read:

"Live the life you want to live. Never be ashamed of anything. Make decisions. Make mistakes. If you fall, at least you fell because you tried. No regrets. It's life."

What a wonderful affirmation to help me clear the last of these black clouds in my mind and heart! We'll see what tomorrow brings, and I'm glad to be able to say that.

30 Days of Thanksvember - Day 6

Today I am thankful for Cipralex and other professional help that's open to me, such as the Canadian Mental Health Association.

No drug is a wonder drug. I've struggled since August 2011, when I began taking Cipralex, and while I've made incredible leaps and bounds, a lot of that has been me pushing, straining, fighting, learning, and coping. Cipralex calms the racing thoughts, giving me a strengthened springboard from which to heave myself from. It gave me some unpleasant side effects at first, but those are long gone now.

It helps me. It doesn't fix everything, but it helps me as much as it can. And I'm very thankful for that.

And I have so many programs available to me. I don't feel alone any more and I feel as though I can easily reach out and grasp someone's hand to further save me from this drowning.

30 Days of Thanksvember - Day 5

Today I am thankful for relief from the Suckies.

The Suckies are unwelcome visitors that make me feel depressed, more anxious than usual, lethargic, and just plain miserable. They make my mood sour and my day or evening bad. They silently took away time that I could have spent joyously crafting or feeling good. I don't have a GO AWAY sign on my mind's front door. I don't have a deadbolt. The Suckies just come right in when I least expect it, gleefully stripping me of all positivity.

Sure, sometimes they have triggers. Sometimes they don't. I never knew how to deal with them until reading this year's Goddess Guidebook from Leonie Dawson. She gave tips on how to combat the Suckies, having you come up with ways of replacing the negativity with serenity and comfort.

So how do I fend them off?

I write in my journal. Getting all the feelings and thoughts out on paper often helps quite a bit. I enjoy curling up on the couch with my slippers, a fleece blanket, and often the tv on while I jot things down.

I drink a nice cup of coffee or tea. Extra happiness if I have a nice liquid creamer!

I take a nap. 'Nuff said! I usually wake up more energized and cheerful.

I go pamper myself. I keep a stock of yummy face and hair masks, lotions, body scrubs, cooling undereye patches, and nail care in the bathroom cupboards. While I'm obsessed with body lotions and mists (I'm looking at you, Bath & Body Works!), I save my most favourites for chasing away the Suckies. After that's all done and I feel like a new person, I doll up my fingernails and toenails in one of my fave polishes.

I go outside for five minutes. Reconnecting with the earth and wind clears the cobwebs and brightens things up, even if it's grey and cold outside.

This evening I did three of those things, and I feel a lot better now. Even with Cipralex and all the other ways I aid my mind in overcoming these illnesses, the Suckies do strike. I'm grateful that I know how I can beat them.

It's All in My Head, #1

As I battle daily with severe anxiety and depression, I thought it would be conducive to posting about it here as this blog is supposed to be a reflection of my life. I posted this to my Facebook on May 28th.

This is something that I find difficult to share, but I think I owe it to all of you to explain the broken workings of my mind so that you may glean from it a better understanding of me. It's quite possible that some of you see me as dramatic, aloof, an avoider, a coward, or just plain antisocial. I know that it's difficult to understand mental problems if none of you have them (and thank whatever deity that you don't), because it just doesn't show on the outside. It really is an "invisible illness".

I've been told that it's all in my head and that I should just get over it. I've been told I'm faking it. I've been told that my problems and avoidance issues hurt my friends and I don't seem to think about them when I make these decisions. I've been told that I'm just shy and unworldly, because I was homeschooled, or because I have never lived in an urban setting before now.

If I could "get over it", do you think I would have suffered for this long? Is it because I enjoy it so much, or that I'm so used to it I know nothing else?

Few people seem to realize how badly I want to feel "normal".

I am currently being treated for an anxiety disorder that I have literally had for as long as I can remember. I am also being treated for severe depression, which seems to be hereditary in my family and hit me not long after I reached puberty at 10 years old. Both disorders have created great dangers for me over the years, including years of hidden cutting rituals and frequent thoughts of suicide. I no longer cut, but as it was an addiction, it's always in the back of my mind. I have pale horizontal scars on my upper arms. I never cut for attention, as many people seem to think this is why cutters do what they do. I would cut to punish myself, to release the pain inside my mind. I never wore tank tops, so my upper arms were the best bet for me to hide them from the world. If anyone did see them, I would lie and say that one of my cats got aggressive in play.

Whenever I felt suicidal, it was always random, and that's probably what scared me the most. I wanted to talk to people about it, because the popular opinion of society is "If someone talks about killing themselves, they're just being attention whores and aren't actually going to do it". Frankly, I would have rather been seen as an attention whore than be dead. Talking helps me, which is why I'm sharing all of this with you against my better judgement. And yes, despite my wonderful life in Canada with my husband, I have felt suicidal at very random times, mostly in the last three months; I feel that my medication is no longer working, and the thoughts on offing myself have become so severe and random that I fear leaving the house.

Do not be mistaken in thinking that I hate my life and am miserable. It's quite the opposite, actually. My dream was to come to Canada, be with Trevor for the rest of my life, and enjoy living in an urban setting where everything is within my grasp. I absolutely love my life and everything about it. But anxiety and depression still hamper it considerably, and I'm more than tired of fighting it every single day and so often losing.

My doctor is concerned me for at this time, which is why he's begun requesting appointments for every two weeks instead of 2-3 months. I'm hoping for an increase in my medication, another prescription for the tranquilizer Ativan, and maybe a recommendation to a psychiatrist. Doctor Bornstein now works hard to understand what's going on in my fragile mind, and I'm very thankful for that.

Both depression and anxiety cause me to stop going outside, stop doing the things I enjoy, and cease to function or care. Of the two, the anxiety is much more crippling, leaving me in a perpetually panicked and fearful state that can explode at the drop of a hat. At first, anxiety completely prevented me from finding a job here. It wasn't because I was lazy and irresponsible. I was terrified. Terror is an emotion that I've battled for years and still have not become the master of. It's an unpredictable bitch, just as the whole of anxiety is.

Anxiety makes me dread simple tasks days in advance. Going to the bank. Going to the doctor. Calling someone. Leaving the house. Interacting with other people. Interacting with myself. Looking for a job. Getting on the bus. Hanging out with friends. Driving a car. Getting on the subway. Going to The Meeting House or home church. Things that normal people do without blinking, while I struggle just to do one of these things without having a full-blown anxiety attack, and if I do accomplish one of these things, I see it as a huge triumph over my issues (although I will probably never properly learn to drive).

Even Trevor has difficulty understanding how I balk, hesitate, break out in a cold sweat, hyperventilate, withdraw from life, burst into random fits of rage or tears at the start of a panic attack, or start shaking. I've been very co-depedent on him, relying solely on his presence to keep me sane, and that's not good. Sometimes he yells at me to "Just relax", which is the worst possible thing one can say to someone with anxiety.

Anxiety causes me to think worst-case scenario at all times, to see the world in a warped sense, and to think only negative things. It causes me to relive horrible memories in my mind at night, things that happened years ago, from simple mistakes to terrible experiences that caused me great fear, such as the scarring eleven months that I was with my first boyfriend. Anxiety causes my body to be in perpetual fight-or-flight mode. It causes me to be paranoid to an extreme. It causes me to think I'm being judged at every step, being thought of badly, from strangers to best friends. It causes me to have broken, restless sleep. It causes me nothing but grief and a sense of being completely abnormal. When I was a child, I was so terrified of the thought of going to school that I finally convinced my parents, after much panicking and freaking out on my part, to homeschool me. My anxiety is not caused BY the homeschooling, but rather the homeschooling was caused by the anxiety.

Up until a few years ago, when I began researching it online, I had no idea what an anxiety disorder was. I hated myself so much because I didn't understand what on earth was wrong with me. When I finally began to understand, I felt so much relief in knowing that there were others like me, others struggling just with day-to-day existance. It didn't make my battle any easier, but it made me feel less alone.

One person who fully understands what is inside my head is my friend Nikkol, my "secret twin". Not only are we both Americans who married Canadians and have the same birth date and birth year, we both have severe anxiety and depression disorders. We are truly two of a kind. She is the one who has helped me to really see my irrational viewpoints on things, because she's had more professional help than I have and has many notes and ideas. We get each other out of the house (sometimes it's ineffective, but then one of us tries again another day). We have both made tiny anxiety accomplishments in each other's presence, I think because we silently strengthen one another. I have worked harder to fight my anxiety than I ever have in my life, thanks to her. I have made such small accomplishments as no longer fearing the bus or traveling on my own, when barely a year ago I couldn't fathom doing such a thing.

My medication has been my springboard to letting me deal with my issues. Before that, I just couldn't anymore. Not on my own. I do not rely solely on Cipralex, mainly because there IS no miracle drug that can take mental disorders away, and I know that I have to work with it and harmonize with it if I'm going to keep my head above the surface. This SSRI gives me the capability of dealing and with feeling just a bit like I'm a normal person.

Some days I can hardly leave the bed. Some days I just want to give up. Some days I just avoid living, and I barely function at all.

I am not posting this to garner sympathy. I only wish that my friends and family will gain a better understanding of "my problems", because I need your understanding and support. To further understand, I hope to keep posting about how I live with anxiety and depression, a chronicle of sorts. It's an ongoing battle, one I will contend with for the rest of my life to some degree. I know that I will never be 100% healed, but baby steps to recovery matter greatly.

Life with Cipralex

So my hands and creativity have been VERY busy this month. If you want to know why, this post on my digital scrapbooking blog will tell you. LOL.

Keeping my mind and hands busy has always been an important aspect of keeping the most severe symptoms of anxiety and depression at bay. When I first started digi-scrapping, it was the latter half of 2009 and I was stuck in Virginia, 800 miles away from my husband and everything I had so quickly come to love in Canada. My father was very ill all the way up until we lost him that December. I'm pretty sure that digi-scrapping and the wonderful girls at DSP and STS were the only things keeping me sane.

Cipralex is still working quite well. I don't think I had realized how great 15mg was at the time because there was just too much environmental stress and depression going on with both Trevor and I not having jobs. My GP increased my dosage to 20mg last month, but for five days straight I was experiencing such severe mood swings and suicidal thoughts that I dropped back to 15. And then I was fine.

I saw my GP on Monday and told him about it, and he said I definitely did the right thing. He said I really should have dropped to 10mg, my original dosage, but he was glad that I was feeling a lot better and that the environmental stressors had all but disappeared since Trevor acquired a full-time job.

I'm still doing things that I had found utterly impossible to do at this time last year, a month before I was put on Cipralex. Last summer I was still nervous, awkward, and kept to myself at get-togethers. I couldn't pick up the phone. I could hardly look anyone in the eye. The thought of going anywhere alone or taking public transit alone freaked me out so bad that I would launch myself right into a panic attack. I remember Kent once remarking at how surprised he was at how social and comfortable I became at gatherings when I had a drink or two in me.

This year? Well. I don't need alcohol to be comfortable and social. I jump on the bus whenever I feel like it. I'll even be taking the subway alone to the Eaton Centre or to the new Michael's that's opened up by the North York Centre. I can go up to a counter and order a double double with complete ease. I go on my own to my doctor appointments, another trigger for severe anxiety for me, and not feel a smidgen of fear.

I'm feeling... well... somewhat normal.

Of course, it's not the medication by itself. I feel that one has to mentally and emotionally work WITH the meds to make them work to their optimum, and boy have I been working hard this past year. To feel that I can now go just about anywhere on public transit or on foot and not panic about it is a very liberating thing. I think I'm finally breaking away from my codependency issues with my husband.