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.

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.

exercise part three

I only managed to use the treadmill once last week. Mostly because I worked long days on the kids' school days and didn't want to be too tired for work. Today I decided to get back on that horse again before I let it slide. I like to walk until the minute hand is on a number so when I started my goal was 12 minutes. I was also listening to my iPod, so when my time was up my song wasn't and I decided to keep going until the song was over and made it 15 minutes. I was hot, sweating and breathing hard when it was over but I feel good about it.

Yesterday I was helping my friend search her garage for boxes of stuff that she needed for her house. I grabbed one particularly heavy box and I was backing out of a tight spot and ended up tripping over her lawn mower and falling onto the concrete, landing mostly on my right elbow. So that is sore, as is my back and neck. Fun. No good deed goes unpunished.

My middle daughter was being particularly grumpy and difficult yesterday. She'd gone off with a friend on Saturday and had a great day of fun, but frequently she is very difficult the next day. We went out to dinner and she was staging a hunger strike. Not so bad by itself, but she was also being nasty and sarcastic. Finally I had it and scolded her "You got to go out yesterday and have fun with your friend, see a movie and her mom even bought you stuff. I didn't get that. Yesterday was all about you. Today can you at least not make me miserable?" She sat there quietly for awhile and then decided to eat, talk and be relatively pleasant. I wish she could be nice without always having to be brought to task.

My son made me laugh. He is the one with Asperger's and he is very very quiet at school. He has two friends, neither of who attend his school. For the most part he goes through his tiny high school with his hood up and (if not in class) his face buried in a book. He is nearly invisible at school and if he attended a large high school he would probably be invisible. We were joking about his invisibility when he said "I don't want to be invisible in college, I'll need to be noticed." I said "Well then you'll have to talk to people." He responded "Gosh darn it, there's always a catch." LOL!