Revisiting the big black hole

So it's happened again.  I'm in that big black hole of nothingness where my bed is my sanctuary and sleep my best friend.  I'm still struggling to work out what triggered this episode.  Perhaps it's best not to think about why and put in place the very small steps to find my way out of it.

I can start that process by being grateful for an understanding husband and two daughters who are old enough to pitch in and help out around the house.  I do not like my daughters to see their mother in bed all day, crying, curled up in a ball, seemingly unable to function and do the basics like have a shower.  Miss G. goes off to school retreat tomorrow for 3 days and I don't want her to go off with an image of me like this.  I do think she knows me well enough to know that this sojourn into the black hole will pass in time.


I know there is an element of acceptance I need to have about this ongoing condition I battle with, but you know what, I'm just a bit over it all.  There is such a huge part of me that wants/needs to get out there and do stuff, but I just can't physically or mentally make myself do it.  I guess that's the fatigue aspect that comes with depression.

Tomorrow is a new day, perhaps bringing with it a more positive outlook.  One can only hope.  That's a key word isn't?  Hope.

Anne

Where's the sunshine gone

This weekend is really a bit off a fizzer as far as sunshine goes.  That's not only weather wise but for me too.  I really dislike waking up with that heavy feeling in my body and the immediate thought that goes with it, oh no, it's going to be one of those days.  Well I have to say that rather than wallow in my I don't want to get out of bed feeling, I now try to think this is not a good start to the day....but it may get better.

When my lovely hubbie asks me if I'm o.k., I can say "Today is not a good day for me, but I'll be o.k."  And I will be.  Isn't it nice to have reached a place where I can say and think that?  This morning being Sunday I have the luxury of not having to be out the door to take Miss G. to school, my family is home and we are all relaxing or pottering around the house doing bits and pieces.  I have decided to spend a little extra time in bed this morning, just slowly working my way up into the day, not pressuring myself to get on with the laundry, cleaning up the kitchen, the baking that needs doing or tidying up my never ending mess.  Instead I've had a cup of tea, breakfast and morning coffee, all in bed :-)  And of course reading the blogs I follow (laptops are wonderful as is wireless internet connection), making a few comments here and there, and dealing with a few very NASTY hot flushes.  I'm taking the time to think about creative ideas that are running around in my head, being inspired but other people's creativity and making a list of things I'd like to make.

Last night I made some Christmas baubles for the girls to hang on their bedroom doorknobs.  If you follow my other blog, you will already know this, sorry.  The enjoyment I get out of having an idea in my head and then actually bringing it to fruition is so rewarding.  A huge part of the joy of creating is sharing it with others.  I really love the internet and blogging for this very reason, the sharing and caring with heaps of wonderful people.

On a slightly different note, I would like to mention an experience I had late Friday afternoon which brought home to me how fortunate I really am and in comparison to some other people.  I was at the local pharmacy to pick up my happy pills (as I call them) and bumped into an acquaintance of some 15 years or so.  Some of our children were at primary school together so there is a connection of sorts.  We were asking how our respective families were going and I learnt in this particular family, the son who has just turned 20 is suffering a rare and aggressive form of cancer which needs to be treated with an equally aggressive type of chemo for a year.  The young man who is sick only has one kidney, so there are many things to be concerned about.  The mother suffers extreme anxiety and depression and has been very unwell for two years and is basically housebound.  Her illness started before the son was diagnosed with cancer.  The father, whom I was talking to, had two years previously been suffering a digestive disorder which now thankfully is under control.  The father is the sons carer and a daughter is the mothers carer.  So you see, in comparison what do I have to complain about?  Very little.

Tomorrow the sunshine will be out and as I'm typing this I can see out my bedroom window the clouds clearing and blue sky is showing.

Anne

No routines, less stress.

Today was a gorgeous day weather wise, the first warm day we've had in a long, long time.  Our winter has been incredibly long, grey, wet and cold and it's a time when I never get enough vitamin D. 

When I woke up this morning and saw all that sunshine, there was only one thing I felt like doing and that was get out into the garden and tackle some of the weeds that still managed to grow without sunshine during the cold months.  It felt soooo good to get my hands in the soil again, to breathe in fresh air, to be totally absorbed in something I love without any distractions.

We have had school holidays here for the past two weeks so there has been a little bit of respite from the normal routine which I hate so much.  Deadlines, schedules, demands, have to do this, must do that.  The absence of the stresses of the normal routine have made me realise just how much I don't do routines.  Well I do them, but not well.   Routines cause me stress and stress contributes to depression.

With Miss G. on school holidays, she's not as stressed either.   It's surprising to realise just how much of her stress filters through to me.   I suppose that's because she chats to me about her homework deadlines, difficulties with certain subjects etc.  So how do I learn not take the stress of everybody else on board.  I don't know.

Does anybody else struggle with this?  I'd love to hear about your strategies.

Wishing you a stress free Sunday.

Anne 

Anxiety, panic attacks and depression - a triple whammy!

Anxiety is in my opinion is on a par with depression.  Depression is like a big black hole of nothingness, anxiety is a never ending whirlpool of terror.  Depression makes me sleepy, lethargic and I burrow to avoid the blackness.  Anxiety is gut wrenching, hand wringing, shoulders near the ears, stomach roiling, mental anguish, rocking back and forth kind of stuff.

Depression and anxiety is a double whammy, throw in a panic attack here and there and you've got a living hell.  Fortunately for me medication has taken the edge of most of the severest symptoms but they lurk very close to the surface if I'm not careful.

There are times when I wonder if I'm being a bit too precious with myself, it feels like I'm making excuses why I can't or won't do something.  However I've learnt from experience if I don't look after myself and only do what I can manage, I suffer.  There have been a number of occasions where I have committed to something only to discover that I just couldn't follow through.  That to me is worse than if you decline to do something in the first place.

When Miss C started kindergarten many years ago, I volunteered to be on the fundraising committee.  Come the school year I pulled out, I just couldn't do it.  More recently (and I'm  not proud of this), I wanted to do some volunteer work at a local hospital, I felt I could be of help.  There were vacancies for volunteers in the emergency room and after the interview, I was taken through what I would be doing and I thought to myself, what on earth am I doing here.  As I learnt more about what would be expected of me, I knew I couldn't go through with it.  I didn't say anything at the time as I was too embarrassed and ashamed to admit how I was feeling.  Walking back to the car my stomach felt like it had a lead weight in it.  I've learnt to take very close notice of my feelings and have relied on my intuition a great deal when making decisions.  I waited a few days and finally plucked up the courage to phone the person in charge of volunteering saying I wouldn't be able to volunteer due to reasons beyond my control.  Needless to say they were less than impressed.  But when I got off the phone, my relief was so great I knew I had made the right decision.

Some of the worst depression I've suffered was when I had my two babies.  Of course it was post natal depression but with my first child it wasn't diagnosed until she was 10 months old.  I still grieve to this day that I was unable to give my beautiful little girl the love and attention she deserved.  I was isolated from family as they lived on the other side of the country so I had no support networks.  My hubbie was an absolute darling be he didn't know what was wrong either.  Miss C never went hungry, she was physically looked after but I wasn't in a place where I could give her all those wonderful things mums give their babies.  I am proud that I managed to breastfeed her totally for 10 months, at least we had some bonding.  The breastfeeding was hard for me as I struggled to maintain supply and this caused me huge anxiety.  Just thinking about it now makes me feel anxious.  One day I might be brave enough to share with you the responsibility I feel for contributing to Miss C's difficulties, but not yet, it's still too raw even after 20 years.

I have a phobia which causes me extreme anxiety and once again I'm grateful to medication for keeping it under control most of the time.  It's not a problem now unless I'm directly confronted but I remember years of metal agony trying to deal with the anxiety it caused, the fact that it controlled my life completely.   I absolutely hate that I have no control over this area of my life.  I can tell myself everything I need to but it makes no difference, the thought patterns are so deeply ingrained I react immediately.

Then there's the panic attacks.  The first one I ever had was in the middle of the night.  I woke up out of the blue feeling terrible and actually thought I was ill.  I have never, ever felt so bad in my entire life.  Some people say they feel like they are dying, I felt so bad I wanted to die.  It was such a frightening experience because I didn't know what was happening.  After I had returned to some measure of calm, I was too scared to go back to sleep because I was afraid it would happen again.



Another time I was helping a neighbour carry a mattress up to her house and I had a panic attack.  Unbelievable!  Why did it happen out of the blue?  That's something I find frustrating, a panic attack for no good reason.  Most of my anxiety is low grade now and I keep it that way by not having too much on at one time.  It's frustrating because I really feel I should have more control.

Even though I've rambled on here about depression, anxiety and panic attacks, you'll know if you read my other blog Ungardened Moments that I strive to fill my life with happy and enjoyable things I love.  I'm just so grateful to have access to medication, knowledge, counselling and support.  Not to mention a long suffering husband that truly loves me, warts and all.

I don't know why I'm prone to these things but that's my lot in life and I'm trying to make the best of it.  I thank you for your patience with this very long post and for taking the time to read it.  I hope that by sharing some of my ugly stuff, it might help someone else realise that there are many people dealing with similar things, that we are not alone and it's more common than we realise.

Have a lovely day everyone.

Anne  :-)

The gum tree

I grew up on a farm with wide open spaces and lots of sunshine.  I go back a couple of times a year to visit family (they live a long way from me) and usually find some time to go walking.  On one of my walks I came across a gum tree.  That in itself isn't unusual as there are many gum trees in the area, however this particular tree was special.  It was magnificent not just because of it's thick solid trunk, beautiful coloured bark and green leaves,  it's magnificence was in what it represented to me.  At the base of the tree lying on the ground were three very large pieces of dead trunk that had obviously been part of the tree at one  time.   The tree had suffered some kind of trauma yet despite the odds had survived and grown a new trunk, branches and leaves.  It seemed to be saying well I might be down but I'm not out.  I'm not finished and I've got some more growing to do. It somehow seemed symbolic of my life.

Anyone who suffers with depression knows that the core of who we are is or has been suffering some kind of trauma.  What is it that rocks our world in such a way that little bits of ourselves flake away while we desperately try to hold it together?  Sometimes there are answers and sometimes there aren't.  I've always desperately wanted answers.  I felt that if I could only understand my depression I could solve it and it would go away.  Not so.  I understand bits of it but not the whole.  Sometimes the more I try to work it all out, the more it eludes me and that is frustrating.  I have learnt that I have to go with the flow and sometime I'm kicking and screaming all the way, it feels just too hard.   But then I'm reminded of the gum tree.

So what has a gum tree got to do with me?  Well my tree (as I like to call it) was stubborn, it held on.  I am stubborn, I am holding on.  I may be down, but I'm not out.  I'm not finished, I've got some growing to do even though growing can hurt.  Kids will often complain about growing pains in the legs, it's a bit like that.  I do my growing by persisting and not giving in when really it would be so much easier just to stay in bed, hide under the covers and go back to sleep.  I persist by incorporating things in my life on a daily basis, the things I love to do.  I have to create, it's not an optional extra for me.  It's how I connect to who and what I am and when I make connections it seems to go a little easier for me.  I might crochet, sew or paint in oils or create by tending my garden.  I need a relationship with the ground and I'm sure that has a lot to do with growing up on a farm.  And I suppose winter is such a struggle for me because I can't be outside with my hands in the ground. 

I believe anyone who suffers with depression does better when they can make connections with what is important to them.  To someone else these connections may not make sense, that's not important because they aren't the person living with depression.  Look after those parts of yourself that you may have ignored for a long time or never acknowledged at all.  Make a connection with something or someone and you may  find it goes a little easier for you too.