My Mother is a Wise Woman

I'm trying to fight my depression right now.  January is a hard month because I'm usually dealing with the money issues post Christmas and the days are too short and the sky is too cloudy/rainy -- why did I move to Oregon? This year I've added to my issues by leaving my husband in November.  I left for a lot of very good reasons but it is still hard to deal with all of the new issues, paying rent, dealing with the tightest budget I've had to deal with since I was in my twenties, single parenting and oh-my-gosh-what-if-the-car-breaks-down?

I needed to go up to my old house to get some more stuff to move to my new place.  I didn't want to do it.  I didn't want to face Ex and I didn't want to see the old place.  Every time I go up there I feel helpless and hopeless.  My arms feel too heavy to lift.  How was I going to deal with stuff and move furniture feeling like that?  

My best friend and all around amazing person offered to go up with me.  She brought her two teenaged sons to help complain move furniture.  She kept me moving and kept my mind focused.  This enabled me to get the task done without running away to my car and avoiding it entirely.

Later I was talking to my mom about how I feel about that place and she said:   I think when you moved to Oregon and bought your place it was an opportunity to start over in a home of your own.  However since you started over with [Ex] and his determination to continue doing everything his way and forcing you to live as he wanted to live with all of his junk around him, your dream turned into a nightmare life.  It was as though you were sinking in quicksand and depression so overwhelming that you couldn't even force yourself to keep the place clean nor train the kids to do that.  It affected every aspect of your life and especially your health.  Once you broke out of the quicksand, you were free but only feel that way when you are away from that disaster of a dream life.  Now that you're away from it, and can truly see the depression that you felt, your instincts are all shouting, "Stay away."

She is so right.  I have my freedom, but when I return to that house I feel like I'm drowning in the quicksand all over again.  I'm nearly done with that place and will soon be seeing it in my rear-view mirror for the last time.  Thank God, I need to move on!

Robin Williams

I haven't written in this blog for a long time.  I've been busy between working full time, raising three teens (one who recently turned 21 and is no longer a teen) and living life there isn't much time to write a blog too.  Depression is part of my daily life, sometimes the pit is deeper than other times, but it has been manageable.

2014 is about to end and I'm so glad.  It was a year of endings for me.  Among other things my marriage ended and my grandmother died.  We lost a lot of wonderful celebrities too Shirley Temple, Mickey Rooney, Casey Kasem, Ann B. Davis, Lauren Bacall, Joan Rivers.  But the big one was Robin Williams.  I've seen so many posts about Robin Williams.  So many people who claim to have all the answers...he should've reached out!  He should've known how many people loved him!  Committing suicide is the most selfish act!  People who say they've experienced depression but managed not to kill themselves, or that have considered suicide but didn't do it, are very self righteous right now.

I'm going to go out on a limb here and say...maybe you don't really know what it was like.  You aren't Robin Williams.  In 1992-1993 I had the worst depression of my life.  I couldn't get out of bed most days.  Making it out in the late afternoon and getting to a doctor's appointment was a major accomplishment.  I had no life, no interests, no hobbies, nothing.  I wanted to be dead.  I thought that if I was dead then the pain would finally be over.

Some of my family and close friends noticed what was going on, and a few even asked me if I was thinking of harming myself.  Incredibly brave people they were!  I still thank God for them all the time.  I couldn't articulate my desire to be dead but that I didn't have any plans to do anything about it.  I remember distinctly driving on a windy road with trees along the side...wondering what speed I'd have to be going before I hit a tree to guarantee I'd die and not just be paralyzed.  I worried that my family would know it wasn't an accident and the fear of failure was probably all that kept me from trying.

I told them no, I wasn't thinking of harming myself.  It was a lie.  I didn't want to get into that discussion because I knew they'd never understand the difference between wanting to be dead and actually planning on doing it.  I was a chicken and afraid of all of the emotions that conversation would rile up.  Not in me, I didn't feel anything, but in my loved ones.  I was also afraid they might commit me against my will.  I wanted and needed help.  I didn't need to be locked up and medicated and electroshocked...okay, all I know about mental hospitals was from movies and books.

I managed to get out of the deep deep pit I was in.  Inch by slow inch.  It helped that I gave birth to an amazing baby boy (yes the 21 year old I talked about earlier) and he gave me a reason to keep trying.  I don't know what I would've done if I'd not been able to pull myself out.  At the time I didn't have medical insurance and I didn't have the wherewithal to even try to find those sliding scale places that are supposed to exist everywhere.  I did try and after three phone calls I hung up the phone and just sobbed.  It was too hard.

Suicide isn't a selfish act, not really.  It is an attempt to end the pain.

To the Motorcyclist in Portland Oregon yesterday

I know I frustrated you yesterday when I kept changing my mind as I approached the metering light to the on-ramp.  The traffic ahead of me was doing the same and I didn't want to be the fourth car in one lane if only one car was ahead of me in the other.  Maybe you couldn't see what the cars ahead of me were doing and you were only paying attention to my car.  We had our windows open because my air conditioner is broken.  That gave you the perfect opportunity to yell into my car "Dude pick a lane and stick with it."

I didn't respond because 1. I'm not a dude and that should be obvious to anyone looking at me and 2. I had all three of my kids in the car and I need to set a good example for them and yelling at random motorcyclists on freeway on-ramps isn't a good example.  We're supposed to turn the other cheek, so I did.  I hope that you felt better and calmer after yelling at a middle aged woman in a junker car full of teenagers.

We were in rush hour traffic and I'm sure you were just on your way home.  I don't live in Portland, I was lost and hoping that the map app on my phone wasn't leading me astray.  You see, we had to drive to Portland in my 17 year old car with the broken air conditioning to see a liver specialist at Oregon Health and Science University for my son.  We can't afford a better car or to fix this car right now because despite having good insurance we still have too many medical bills.

I may be having more difficulty lately making decisions because I've had to make so many.  I have to make decisions that can affect my son for the rest of his life.  Should he take this medication that may save his life right now but cause a tumor later that may take it?  Should I put him through another liver biopsy when the last one gave me nightmares for weeks?  Should I pay this medical bill this week or buy food for my growing teens?  What will I do if my company lays me off this month or next?  You see, those decisions are more important to me than which lane I should occupy, even if my indecision is driving you nuts.

I know you will probably never see this entry in my blog but I still want to say I'm sorry that I made your commute more difficult yesterday.  I hope you can accept my apology and be a little more human in your next interaction with a random stranger because you never know what battles they are fighting.

Time flies

It has been a long time since I wrote here. Part of that is that last November I was one of the lucky few to get a full time job with benefits. Very very lucky in this economy. The other part was that at the same time I was starting a new job I developed pain. It started in my hands and spread. I spent a lot of time in this last year seeing doctors, specialists, having tests and hearing the same results over and over again, "Everything looks fine."

How can everything look fine when I hurt so much? By the end of June I hurt everywhere. By July I couldn't even walk normally. Finally my doctor says "There is nothing left to test for, It looks like you have Fibromyalgia."

I hate that Fibromyalgia doesn't have a specific test for it. It is a diagnosis of elimination...everything tests out fine, but the patient still hurts? Must be Fibromyalgia. There is a pressure point test, but unfortunately unscrupulous people can fake that, doctor pushed there, you say "Ow." Researchers are working on a way to test and they have some leads. I pray they find it soon so I can then say "Yes, I've tested positive for Fibromyalgia."

Why would I want that, you might ask? There are the people who don't "believe in fibromyalgia." Believe? It isn't a religion. I'm not asking you to put money in my collection plate. I'm not asking you to believe in anything. I'm telling you, I'm in pain. You can't see my pain, but you can see how hard it is for me to get out of a chair. You can't see my pain, but you can see how I walk. You can't see my pain, but you can still believe me when I tell you that it is there.

I'm not faking. I'm not trying to get disability. I want to keep my job. I want to keep my house clean. I want to go shopping with my teenage daughter. I want to be able to sleep the entire night through and wake up rested. I want a clear course of action on my doctor's and my part. What do I do to feel better? What can he prescribe to me to make me feel better?

Right now I'm taking a pharmacy of pills, working on improving my diet and adding exercises and stretching to my day. The doctor has given me Elavil for sleep, Savella for fibromyalgia, Vicoden for pain and a muscle relaxant. I'm also taking Malic Acid because studies have show that helps. I'm seeing a physical therapist to help with my range of motion and my muscle weakness. I'm going to the gym at work nearly every weekday. I'm cutting out junk food, soda, and food with additives as much as possible.

I feel a little better, not normal yet, but I'm still working at it.

Getting Behinder

A month since my last post...wow, sorry guys.

I did a lot in August, the last month before the kids went off to school. Funny how even when I plan my summer vacation for June, August always ends up being an incredibly busy month. Does anyone else find that? Part of it is the garden: harvesting, cooking, canning, freezing, etc. and part of it is that everyone I know seems to suddenly realize that summer is nearly over and they all decide to visit in August.

Ah well, enjoyed the visits, not quite keeping up with the gardening but with the help of my mother-in-law's extra freezer I have a ton of peaches frozen for canning later. I'm almost grateful for the lack of pears on the tree this year. Weird how that works, last year we were canning pears left and right...this year, we got three.

I finally sat down and wrote up a budget. Realizing the reason we got into so much financial trouble in the first place...we don't make enough money. My husband hasn't gotten a raise in over six years and with prices going up, his money is worth less than it was over six years ago. I am making about the same as I was making six years ago also, maybe a little less. So, I have no choice but to figure out how to make more money. Do I quit the two part time jobs I have right now and look for full time employment, or do I look for another part time job? I have a lead on another part time job that might do the trick, so hopefully something will come of it.

An article in the paper the other day said that money does buy happiness, at least until you reach about $75,000 a year. Yup, we're nowhere near that. I'd love to try that level and see if I'm happier, anyone want to help with that? Of course twenty years ago when my husband and I were newly weds I thought that the level we are at now would be just about right, but of course we didn't have kids then.

Writing up the budget was probably the best thing I did. Now I know how much I have and how much is going out between now and the next time we are paid. No more credit cards, we are cash only now. That is a bit scary, especially right now while we are trying to build up some savings against possible car repairs or other emergencies.

I've also signed up for a class on Novel Writing. I've had some ideas running around in my head and I've sporadically put some of it down on paper (actually on computer, but you know what I mean) but I've never done any more than that. I've never finished one of them nor have I even thought about what to do after it is finished. I decided that I'm giving myself until the new year to figure out if this is something I want to pursue or not. Thus...the class. This was a big jump for me because it is a night class, meaning I'm leaving my kids home alone at night until after 10 p.m. The kids are 16, 13, and 10, so they aren't babies and the night isn't a school night so they don't need me there to force them to turn off their electronics and go to sleep. But I still worried, especially about the ten year old as she is a worrier. She ended up being the one to say "Go for it, we'll be fine." Out of the mouths of babes.

Fall is in the air and I'm already feeling the difference. I'm still taking the higher dosage of Welbutrin (generic) and I plan on taking it all through winter. Keeping my fingers crossed that I will be able to avoid another deep depression like I suffered last winter. So now that I've caught you all up, hopefully I'll be better at keeping this blog up. After all, without regular posts how can I develop a following?

Abandoned or Abandoning?

I was thinking today while taking my shower (I always do my best thinking there) about my deepest depressions. Each time I felt alone and like I had no one to talk to. My first major depression was the year I had two miscarriages, my father was hospitalized and nearly died, my grandfather died and I was in a car accident with a drunk driver.

Any one of those things would cause stress, all of them taken together were too much, especially the miscarriages. My husband and I had been married six years and I'd put off having children until I finished my college degree. Once I was ready...I was READY. Then I had the miscarriages. My friends and family were all supportive but expected me to get over it quickly and move on. I didn't. As anyone who has experienced the miscarriage of a much wanted baby can tell you, you don't move on quickly. You need to grieve.

Grieve I did. I got depressed, really depressed. My parents worried that I was suicidal. My husband didn't understand the fuss. My friends wondered when I'd get over it. So I started to fake it. I pretended that everything was fine and tried to move on with my life. I didn't talk to anyone about my feelings because I didn't want to cause anyone any more worry.

The next depression wasn't quite as bad, but still effected me. I had finally had that first baby and I was so happy with him that I decided to have another. Once again...fertility problems. This one took two years before I was able to conceive my second child. Most people felt that I should be happy, after all I had one child, couldn't he be enough? I mostly faked it through this depression in part because I was parenting a toddler and couldn't stay in bed all day. Once again, I had no one to talk to. One of my friends was pregnant. Another was trying to conceive and having miscarriages. I was a lot of support for her, but she was in the "at least you have one child" camp. Once again I felt that I had no one to talk to.

The next depression hit after I had my third child (a surprise, no fertility problems there!) and I realized that my house was too tiny and my husband didn't care that we were stuck in a tiny house. Most of my friends and family were supportive, they all thought I was in a too tiny house too. I didn't really recognize this depression for what it was for a long time. Once I did I went to my GP and got my first prescription for antidepressants. Things improved, but once again I felt that I had no one to talk to. This was probably the first time I didn't talk to any friends deliberately. I wanted everyone to think that everything was perfect. I felt that I didn't really have any reason to complain. After all, I now had my three children, I was working at a part time job that I loved, and I had a roof over my head.

My most recent depression coincided with a major depression my best friend had. I didn't want to talk to her and bring her down farther. Once again I kept it to myself and didn't let anyone know how bad it had gotten. I mentioned it to one friend who is very holistic and didn't think I should go on medication again. Since that was the only real option available to me, I decided not to talk to her about it any more. Once again it seemed that all the people I'd normally talk to were unavailable to me.

So after remembering all of those I started to think about it. What came first, the chicken or the egg? Did I get depressed because my friends were busy and I had no one to talk to? Did my being depressed drive people away so I felt alone? Was I not telling people because it is so difficult to reach out and talk to people while I'm depressed?

Note: during all of these I didn't have therapy available because my insurances (I had different ones each time) either wouldn't cover therapy, or it was subject to a deductible - the lowest was $1,500 and was thus out of reach for me. Therapy might have helped me because then I would have had someone to talk to about everything and might not have felt so abandoned.

Hormones and Depression

I had a mixed week this week. 'That time of the month' and I find myself sinking down again. Things always bug me more when my hormones are in an uproar. I had some more negative comments about my parenting and it is really starting to get to me. Especially from one friend who is having far more difficulties with her own children, I wonder how she has the gall to say things about MY parenting. My mother also has said some negative things. She used to always have positive things to say about my parenting. She was the one source I had for reassurance that I was doing a good job...now I'm not getting that anywhere.

For the most part I'm doing better. Summer always finds me with more energy and a more positive outlook. I worry that I'm not doing a lot better right now because if I don't pull myself up more then this winter is going to be a hard one.