If I Could Turn Back Time...

I've been fighting off another bout of depression.  This time around it's more situational than chemical.  In a nutshell, I am letting the past drag me down.  Like, more than usual. 

Yesterday would have been the 15th wedding anniversary for my first husband and I.  While he and I have both moved on and married other people, October 28 always causes me to pause in reflection, in regret, in wonder of what might have been.  As I have mentioned so many times before (I know I sound like a broken record by now) I left him and our two young daughters after eight years of marriage.  It was during a manic episode and I did a lot of things I am ashamed of.  I will never get that time with my kids back.  I will never be able to rewind and rewrite the story.  But it's hard not to think about how different life would have been, for all of us, if I had not had that awful breakdown.  When I think about how much I hurt him, how much I hurt our daughters, it rips me apart inside.  And believe me when I say I think about it, literally, every day.  And then sometimes I get bitter.  After all, he listened to my pleas and got me released from the hospital. He filed for divorce.  He helped me move out.  Maybe he didn't want to be with me anymore after all.  But I pressured him into all those decisions, so I still take full responsibility for it.  Meanwhile, he was the one who comforted our girls each night as they cried for a Mom that wasn't coming back.  Oh how much I hate myself for that, and I hate the illness that made me so blind to it at the time.  It's like something switched off inside me and I didn't feel love or concern for anyone.  I didn't listen to my husband, my children, or my parents as they told me I was making a terrible decision to leave.  How could I not see that then???  

I spent a few years wishing to God I could go back in time and do the right thing.  Maybe if I had just stayed in the hospital a little longer, I would have been alright.  Maybe if my husband had not filed for divorce, we would still be together.  I have thought about these things so many times and run it through my head backwards and forwards, always searching for a way to set things straight and be done with it, all to no avail. The damage can never be repaired.  Now I barely see my girls, even though we live down the street from each other.  I am only allowed to see them every other weekend, sometimes more if I get lucky.  I am thankful that they have a financially and emotionally stable life with their dad and stepmom, but I feel like I have been robbed.  And yes, I deserve that. But it doesn't make it hurt any less.   I know I am fortunate in the fact that some people don't get to see their children at all due to various circumstances, so I don't take those weekends for granted!  

I am in love with my fiance, and I know we are perfect for each other.  We have an amazing son together.  This throws a tailspin in my previous wish to go back and change my decisions.  If that hadn't happened, I would have never met Douglas and we would have never had this precious little boy.  So I find myself in an even more complicated place:  missing my daughters, but being grateful for my son.  If I had the magical chance now, to choose one life or the other, how could I possibly choose? So I guess it's good that I don't have that option.  

The Little Things

There is blue Play-Doh stuffed in the crevices of my shoes.  This realization has canned the subject I signed on to write about.   How did this mysterious Doh get there?  If only my two year old could talk.  I'm sure he knows a thing or two about it. 

Motherhood has been bringing me more joy than woe lately.  I'm not saying I have not been extremely frustrated at level 12 on a scale of 1-10 on almost an hourly basis. I have.  But I have had some very sweet moments with my son as well. He loves giving snuggles and kisses, for one thing.  So even after he has thrown a bowl of cereal across the kitchen, refused to help clean it up, and screamed through a time-out, he can still melt my heart afterwards by giving me that tear-stained smile that says "I love you even though you were mean enough to make me mind you, Mommy" and it reminds me how blessed I am to have him in my life.  

And just then, he shut down the computer...good thing those two previous paragraphs were saved!  

As far as mental stability goes, it blows.  I go from extreme distress where I am desperate enough to call my old psychiatrist and make an appointment (tomorrow, always tomorrow) to feeling quite well and content, sure that I will be alright without any help at all from a doctor.  And of course this flip flop of perspective is common for me (anyone who has read half my blog knows that, and certainly the people who know me in real life are sure of it) but whether new drugs or a new therapist would help rectify the problem, I don't know.  I lose my faith in psychology fairly often. Sooner or later, I always come back to my senses, renew my gusto to try, try just a little more.  But I'm still not feeling it for now.  After eight years of try this med, try that med, I'm not sure any of it is a right fit for me. But of course, stability is a must for me.  I have a young son to care for, two older daughters who need me as well, and I would like to be more of a joy than a wreck for my fiance to be around as well.  

Honestly, taking a break from my Facebook page has helped a lot.  I was obsessing about it way too much, checking it every few minutes, searching for new content, creating new content, answering private messages concerning dislike for the content, etc.  Don't get me wrong; I enjoy doing the page, and I do hope to ease back into it soon, but it's been a relief not to have that responsibility the past few days.  I have actually had time to read!  And oh how I love to read.  It's that hobby that always gets shoved to the corner.  We go to the library nearly every week and I almost always get a book or two for myself, but almost never read them! So it's nice to do more than just glance wistfully at them from across the room, to instead actually open them up and escape into another writer's mind.  It's been too long since I allowed myself that enjoyment.

I have also exercised this week. Outside! Wow! 

To sum it up, it really is the little things in life that add up to the most in terms of good mental health.  Yes, many of us need the medication and/or the therapy.  I am not saying those things are not important.  But just as crucial are the activities we fill our days with.  Who we spend our time with and how we spend it matter.  A lot!  I am thankful that I have had a few days to focus on things that bring me happiness.  Like my son, reading, breathing in the Autumn air.  I don't want to be a slave to the computer, or to my thoughts.  I hope I can hang on to this sensibility and not lose sight of it again.

And now, I am off to clean my shoes!  

Maybe I'm Crazy...

...but I posted this to my personal Facebook page today:

"Living with mental illness is difficult in ways you wouldn't even imagine if you are on the outside. If you are blessed to have mental stability you will likely look at those who are not in disbelief, perhaps disgust. What you may not be aware of is, we look at ourselves in the same manner. While there are always exceptions to the norm, most of us don't use our diagnosis as an excuse to act out. We don't automatically chalk up our mistakes in life to "eh, I'm crazy, what did you expect?" On the contrary, we beat ourselves up relentlessly for every impulsive move we've ever made. We hate what we are, how we act, the pain we tend to inflict on others with our seemingly foolish words and actions. When we are well, we may fit in as well as the next person. But when we are not, it shows. It shows in horribly damaging ways, to both our own reputations and to the well-being of the ones we care the most about. 

We don't flaunt the fact that we have some "cool" diagnosis like bipolar or schizophrenia, or whatever label we've been penned with. More often it's a name worn more like the scarlet letter; we'd give anything to shed the reasons why we were diagnosed as such. 

I am not blind to the people who see me as a different person than I was years before. I am not deaf to the mean things some say. I often think those same things about myself. I tell myself I have no illness; I am simply a very bad, sinful person who did these things on purpose. Despite what doctors and therapists tell me, I still choose to blame myself for things I can never undo. I feel like I deserve that punishment. And some (not all) of you on my friends' list, I know, tend to think the same way about me. You may act sweetly to me, but I know you think bad things about me. That's okay. I don't blame you. 

It's why I am so wary of medicine. When I so desperately wanted relief from the symptoms I had around the time of my diagnosis I dumbly trusted whatever prescription was thrown at me to make me well. Instead of making me well, I progressed to having stupid delusions, leaving my family, yada yada. We all know the story (or the rumors, at least). Later, certain medications DID work, and I resumed stability. But the damage was already done. Some things you can't fix. And you can never, ever forget. 

So now I find myself in that scary place again, where I know I need some form of treatment (because, believe it or not, faith in God's healing alone usually does not cure mental illness, just like it doesn't always cure cancer or any other illness) and yet I am so frightened by the prospect of trying something new. Because I lost my whole world back in 2006. How could I ever survive losing it again, especially if it was by my own doing? 

So, why am I sharing this on my Facebook page? Why, when I try so hard to maintain a healthy, "normal" display of myself on here? Well, there are a few reasons:

1.) It's my page and basically I have the right to post whatever I want. 
2.) I'm tired of pretending.
3.) Maybe it will help someone who is going through something similar. 
Those are enough reasons for me ;) "

Dissociation and Decisions

On my Facebook page yesterday I briefly mentioned the fact that I am experiencing some dissociation which in turn makes it difficult to communicate with others, both in written or spoken form.  I am trying to keep a grip on life, but perhaps it's a grip I can't keep because I've already lost it.  Maybe I don't even want that grip anymore.  Maybe it's easier to float along without it, "accidental-like on a breeze." (Forrest Gump, duh!)

My fiance is supposed to take me to the new clinic tomorrow.  I really doubt I will go.  I don't feel like waiting around in a place that may or may not see me...first come first serve my ass. I don't feel like being asked questions and trying to piece together a map of where my mental health history and my current state of mind meet. I just don't feel like it!  And yes, this attitude is probably a big part of why I should go, but I'm just so done with it.  Back on October 5th when I went to see my doctor I was so depressed that I was contemplating suicide, and she sent me away. And yeah, I'm glad I didn't get sent to the hospital, and I'm really glad I eventually got out of the deadly mindset I was in then, but the fact remains: she sent me away.  I spent money to see her that I could have used for groceries, to ask for her help, and I left with nothing but an even worse outlook on life than I had before I saw her.  Do I really want to risk having that happen again?  The rejection?  Do I really want to go to another clinic knowing full well there's a great potential they will not be able to help me either?  In my mind right now, the prospect of help being there but not receiving it due to pride is a better alternative than being hopeful in treatment only to be punched in the face with another dead end.  And I must be logical about it:  nearly every medication that we can feasibly afford has indeed already been tried.  Diet changes have been made.  Exercise.  Therapy.  I have very rapid cycling bipolar disorder which is hard to treat.  My anxiety (OCD, social, panic attacks) has me almost completely homebound as it is, so leaving the house and talking to people is increasingly more difficult to do.  This in turn makes treatment all the harder to be successful.  I'm not saying I'm giving up, but I guess I am taking a vacation from hope because it's just been fucking exhausting!  

So what I'm going to do in the meantime is clean up the house.  At least it will keep me occupied.  I can pretend I am not mentally ill (there's no such thing - HA!) and I can just busy myself with domestic chores that are not too incredibly taxing on my brain cells.  Knowing that, in fact, every little thing is taxing on me these days.  But humor me for a minute.  Believe that I will be alright.  Believe that I am perfectly fine and will not precariously dive off the deep end.  Do I really have a choice?  Well, of course I do!  But my decision (for the day, for the minute, for the millisecond) has been made. 

Quote of the Day

 “It’s useless arguing with people. They have stereotyped minds that run along grooves of stock response and commonplace.” -Ruth Rendell

The Best Part of Being a Mom

It does my heart and mind so much good to have all three children here with me.  I am enjoying the girls being out of school for a four day weekend. While I do admit my anxiety can get really out of hand when they start fighting with each other, for the most part I do a lot better.  It's the only time I feel whole: when all of my children are under the same roof.  The heartache comes after, when they have to go back home to their father.  Then it's just my son and I, and even the nonstop noise of a two year old can't fill the emptiness in the house when my daughters are gone.  

No amount of time will ever lessen the grief I feel over losing the privilege of being full-time present mom in their lives.  I have wasted too much time wishing for a way to get that time back, to erase the mistakes I made that led to it, etc.  It's useless to do that, of course, but what parent doesn't when living part or all of their lives without their offspring?  But despite pain and regrets, I can only move forward.  I cherish every moment they are here.  I know what a gift it is, and I don't ever want to take it for granted.  I also try to remind myself of this when my toddler son is being "less than cute". Parenting is hard, even for the most level-headed people.  Mental illness adds a lot of problems to the arena.  I experience burnout a lot.  I wrote a post about that burnout not too long ago, but I refrained from posting it because I was pretty harsh.  I may post it sometime when I am in a bad mood.  We'll see!  Still, as stressed as I get, I love my three children more than anything.  I try to be the best parent I can, knowing I fail repeatedly, terribly, shamefully.  But then one of my girls will write a card saying I'm the best mom ever, or my son will give me a hug and kiss my belly (he's fascinated with my fat belly) and it makes me think I must be doing something right. And nothing in the world brings more hope or joy than those moments when I feel like my children see something better in me than I see in myself.  I will always strive to make them feel the same way. To me, they are the most beautiful, amazing people in the world.  I never want them to doubt that, not for a second. 

Down The Rabbit Hole: Combating Negative Thinking

Who can forget Alice's sudden tumble down the rabbit hole, deep down into Wonderland where she meets very odd characters and nothing is really as it seems. So it is with negative thinking. Once we decide to peer into that dark cave of thought, we can quickly be pulled down into deeper, darker thoughts, and as we near the bottom we can often lose all hope of ever climbing out to a safer, more reasonable ground. On the other hand, positive thinking is being able to take control and notice what is actually happening around you instead of fearing something that might happen. It is the ability to not let negative thoughts pull you under and take control of your life.

Easier said than done, eh? 

The fact is, it's a lot easier to run with the negative. Positive thinking is hard work! It's like climbing a steep rocky mountain without a safety net; it's less tedious, albeit more damaging, to just free fall off to the stony bottom. We always hear how much happier and at peace we will be when we focus on the good and remove our thoughts from the harmful depths of negativity. But how do we do that? I hope some of the following suggestions will steer you in the right direction:

• Write down everything that is worrying you and rate the likelihood of that problem happening. Play the worst case scenario game for a few minutes and then close the box on it. Michael J. Fox says “If you fixate on the worst case scenario, and it actually happens, you’ve lived it twice.” I say, accept that there is a such thing as a worst case scenario, make yourself as comfortable as possible with it, and then toss it to the wind. If it comes back to you-actually happens in real life-then at least it won't take you by surprise. Just don't weigh yourself down with things that may or may not happen. There's being prepared, and then there's being a basket case. There's a fine line between these two, so learn to recognize and file them in appropriate boxes.

• Do your most unpleasant tasks at the start of the day rather than leaving it for later and stressing about it. Procrastination is your worst enemy, so stop hanging out with her. She's a mean old bitch and she's only out to harm you. Don't answer her calls, and certainly don't let her in the door.

• Keep a positive attitude about things, because if you allow your attitude to be negative your mood will be negative. Yes, this is common sense. No, it is not a built-in trait. It must be learned, processed, and practiced. Positivity is not some blind "everything is wonderful and even cow poop smells like fresh linen" line of thinking. I would like to throw in the word "realism" here. Often considered the merging bridge between the best and the worst, realism is ruling out the cumbersome fluff of "it's all lovely" while refining the "oh crap, everything is going wrong and the world is a vampire sent here to drain me dry". Remaining positive in any given situation means you look the truth of the situation in the eye, size up the damage, and choose to say "you may break my plans, but you will not break my spirit." Tell that to your next flat tire. Tell it to your paycheck. Tell it to your mental illness.

• Keep yourself occupied, as this won't give you the time to dwell on negative thoughts.I don't understand the word "bored". There is always, always, always something to do. Being bored and idle welcomes in bad thoughts faster than a dead animal welcomes the vultures. Find some hobbies. Start an exercise program. Tackle that scary closet. Do something. This is the way I was able to successfully quit smoking three years ago. I kept myself busy. It didn't matter how silly or mundane the task was, it kept my hands full and my head focused on something besides how much I wanted to light one up. It is the same with negative thinking. If you don't give it walking space in your head, then it can't take up camp in your life.

• Set aside a time of the day to focus on things that are worrying you, and once that time is up walk away from it and do something else.This is much like the suggestion about writing things down. If you have a particular problem worrying you to death, set the timer and worry to your heart's content. Think about every possible bad thing about it, and maybe even try to come up with some solutions to it if it is a fixable boo-boo in your life. When the timer goes off, it's done. You've met your worrying quota for the day and it's time to spend your efforts elsewhere. 

• Find something funny about a situation rather than dwelling on the negatives. Humor truly is the best medicine. You don't have to be a professional comedian to appreciate the lighter side of life. If we can't laugh at ourselves and our troubles, then those troubles will kill us. Besides, laughing reduces stress, relaxes the muscles, eases pain, and improves the immune system. A hearty belly laugh offers nearly the same benefits to your heart as a jogging session, and it can actually improve hypertension (more so in women than in men). This is why, when I am depressed or worried about something, the best thing I can do is watch a comedy. Who says mindless television can't come in handy every once in a while! 

• Above all else, remember to breathe, and to know that these worrisome times will pass. Breathe it in, breathe it out. We all have difficulties to work with in our lives. We all have varying levels of self-esteem issues, and some of those issues are very severe and damaging. But your beliefs about yourself are not always accurate, and it is helpful to evaluate the core of your being to recognize untruthful thoughts, as well as rediscover neglected positives about yourself. I will write more on this topic in my next post. In the mean time, give yourself a pat on the back, a self-hug or whatnot, and decide that from this moment on you will not be a slave to the rabbit hole. Stay on level ground and resist that downward pull with every ounce of strength you have! Positive thinking doesn't mean you block out reality or ignore issues that must be dealt with. Rather, it helps you keep on a clearer path so that you can see things as they really are, and appreciate the good stuff despite the bad.

Multiple Psychiatrist Disorder

Here is a link to an article I wrote with tips on how to talk to your doctor about your symptoms:

Breaking Down the Communication Barrier Between Psychiatrists and Patients

I will use these tips as I experience getting acquainted with yet another psychiatrist. Last week my former doctor dismissed me because she has been unable to find a winning combo of medication to treat my illness.  She feels she has reached the end of her expertise and so she gave me the number to call for another place that can hopefully help me more. I called the new clinic this morning (actually, my fiance called for me because I was too nervous), and they don't make appointments for new patients. Instead, they have certain days and times that you have to walk-in and it's a first come, first serve kind of deal. So basically, I'm guessing I will have to wait in a crowded room and may or may not be seen by someone. This is terrifying to me, but it's the only option I have left, so that's what I will do. My fiance said it may be next week before we can go. So survival mode continues...

Depressed Ramblings

As exhausting as the very rapid rapid cycling was, I think I would trade it back in exchange for this constant depression. I am stuck in quicksand and there seems to be no way out.  I have contemplated suicide more than I would like to admit to, but each time the faces of my children popped to mind and I just couldn't go through with it.  I am thankful for that, and yet I can't see the point of me staying alive as is.  What good am I to anyone, much less children, if I am this withdrawn and caged in misery?  I'm sure I will know the answer to that once I feel better, but right now I don't, and it makes the struggle to hang on all the more pointless to me.  What's more, I only feel like a burden to my fiance.  I know he would care if I could explain how I am feeling, but there just aren't any words for it.  There's a barrier between me and everyone who knows me.  An airtight barrier that I can't get around, under or over.  

I've reached that point where I don't care that the house is a mess.  Last week I felt awful about it, but now I don't even care if I die with it looking this messy.  I just don't care.  Last week I also had no appetite, so I didn't eat.  This week, I'm still not hungry, but I keep eating to distract myself from the depression: it isn't working, but I continue to do it.  I think I purposely want to gain weight so I can hate myself even more.  

I don't care if I survive. 

One thing I do care about, however, is all the things I am increasingly paranoid over.  I think everything is directed toward me, especially on Facebook.  That place is the devil.  I think people are intentionally ignoring me, or that I am annoying them, or that they absolutely hate me.  Or all of the above.  I even lashed out at one person because I feel like he was intentionally trying to hurt me...and I still feel that way, but I also feel like I should probably apologize.  But then I'm afraid he will not care about my apology, and that will just hurt even more.

I also am very sure the world is about to come to an end.  I can feel it in the air, and it's thick and nasty...but I don't really care about that much right now.  It would save me a lot of trouble if it did.  

I want to take a lot of pills and sleep for a long time.  When I wake up, this same feeling will hit me in the face as soon as my eyes open, so then I'll want to take more pills and sleep even longer.  As it is, I can't do that at all because I have a two year old to take care of.  And please know that he is not any sort of danger.  I am exhausted and depressed and apathetic, but I do still care for my son.  I may not be a jolly mom right now, but he's not being neglected.  And if I had someone to look after him for me I would.  Or wouldn't, because I don't like imposing on anyone. I do still care about other people, just not about myself.

I told my fiance earlier today that I miss the food at the last mental hospital I was in.  I do.  I really liked their food.  I guess it's sort of bad when a mental hospital produces more nostalgic thoughts of home than your actual home does. I can't afford to go to that good food hospital anyway.  It would be off to the horrible state run hospital that feels more like a prison and the food is awful. And in case you think all I care about is the food, you're right.  But in all honesty, the quality of food in a place often signifies the overall quality of everything else.  And good food is comforting. Whether you are hungry for it or not. 

What To Do If You Feel Stuck In Life

It doesn't matter how old you are when you suddenly realize you're stuck in the life that you've created for yourself. The feeling is devastating and difficult to deal with. But while it may seem like you made a lot of mistakes that you cannot get out of, the important thing is to keep your head up high and know that every mistake is actually a lesson that can be learned, so there's no need for regrets after all.

Whether you're a young adult or middle aged, there are things that you can do to change your life for the better. Continue reading for some valuable advice that'll help you feel like you're free again to create the life of your dreams if you're feeling like you're stuck and there's no way to change things.

Go Back to School and Change Careers

Sometimes a career change is absolutely necessary, especially if you've grown bored or disgruntled with your current place of employment and you really don't want to move to another company in the same field. For example, if you really thought that you wanted to be a teacher but you realized after getting a job in the field that it really isn't a good fit for you, don't feel as though you're trapped, no matter how old you are. You can begin taking classes on the side or begin pursuing a master's degree in a completely different field so that, when you're ready, you can look for employment elsewhere.

Get a Fresh Start in a Brand New Place

Moving to a new place can give you the fresh start you desire, especially if nothing is working for you where you are. If, for example, you're finding it really difficult to find a great school to attend for the new career you wish to pursue, or there aren't enough jobs in your field in your area, a move can really make a difference and open up brand new doors and opportunities that you never imagined could be possible.

Whether you move alone or with a family, making such a change may be a little hard at first, but once you settle into your new place and begin meeting new people, learning new things, seeing new places, and experiencing all that your new home has to offer, you won't regret it, especially if you know that this is the place you've always wanted to live in. And if you're concerned that moving would be too much of an expensive hassle, find a reputable moving company that can help you with all of the minor details to make it easier for you, no matter how far you're moving.

Try New Things Whenever You Can

Volunteer in a field you're interested in and make it a point to travel to try new things. This can help you get out of your rut and get your mind off of things, and you may even be inspired. For example, volunteering with animals may inspire you to switch careers.

Making changes is imperative if you feel stuck in life. Remember, nothing needs to be permanent, and changes can be wonderful.

The author of this post is Tyson Wilmer, an employee at AMJ Campbell, leading movers in Brampton. He owns a fantastic toolkit and uses it to do restoration work in his spare time.

Featured images:

•  License: Creative Commons image source 
•  License: Creative Commons image source 

My Mood Journal for the Past Two Hours

7:00p.m.  Extremely depressed.  The typical distractions do nothing but make me feel worse.  Can't concentrate to read, don't want to watch TV, don't feel like writing anymore miserable language, except for this stupid mood journal that seems pointless at the moment.  

7:05p.m.  Oh my! Must cook something to eat!  MUST!  It's just so exciting!!!

7:10p.m.  Ugh, I got pots and pans out, but I don't feel like cooking anything.  I'll just fix the kid a sandwich and forget about it. 

7:12p.m.  No, really hungry!  Going to cook something!  It'll be F U N ! ! ! 

{cooking-neutral mood, then stressed, then very stressed}

7:35p.m. I want to die.  But the food was good.  

7:38p.m. Actually, the food wasn't all that great.  I wish I hadn't eaten it.  What was the point?

7:45p.m. Bath time for son.  This will be fun!  He loves bath time.  I love my life!  

7:50p.m. He has dumped water all over me and the bathroom is flooded.  I am so tired.  I should have just let him stay dirty...I'm an awful mom for thinking that :(  

{wrestling to dry off and clothe son}

8:00p.m.  I'm exhausted. I don't even feel.  Just numb and exhausted.

8:07p.m.  UGH I'M SO MAD!!! AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHY!!! 

8:10p.m. Just depressed now.  I'm tempted to write how depressed I am on my Facebook page but then everyone will think I am just complaining or wanting attention.  Maybe I should just shut the whole thing down.

8:20p.m. My son is so cute!  I love spending time with him!  Happy!  Happy!  Happy!  And I have so many projects I want to get started on, like this one, and this one, and this one!  Where to begin WHERE TO BEGIN???  

8:45p.m. I want to die.  I don't know why anyone puts up with me.  Why do I even exist?  I should just end it now. 

8:55p.m.  Eh, feel so-so.  I'm going to post this to my blog for the hell of it.  Either people will sadly relate or they will have a good laugh at it, or think it's really stupid.  Whatever.

Social Anxiety Versus Mom Duties

It has occurred to me on more than one occasion lately that my two year old son, J, needs some time around other kids his age.  Seeing as how I am almost completely homebound due to anxiety, and that same anxiety prevents me from arranging playdates here, I know his social skills are lacking.  He needs someone to converse with besides his parents and his much older sisters.  So, his dad and I decided to try out Kidzersize at the local library today.  

That decision was made two days ago and I tried to not think about it until today; otherwise, I would have talked myself out of going.  Even so, the realization that I would be in a room with strangers didn't exactly make me jump for joy.  I was fairly cranky as I got ready this morning. Trying to pick out something acceptable to wear from my limited wardrobe only reminded me how much weight I have gained.  Brushing my hair highlighted the fact that I have over two inches of dead ends because I have been too nervous to make a hair appointment to get it trimmed (and I know better than to try cutting it myself). I got J dressed extra early and then tried not to annoy my fiance to death as I waited for him to mosey out the door.  After all, I knew if I got there late there would be no way I could walk into a full room. It's better to get there early and let the room slowly fill up after me, kind of like putting a frog in lukewarm water and gradually boiling it to death. 

We managed to get there on time.  First ones there, in fact.  J was already excited because he loves the library (we go to get books fairly often), but he was practically delirious when he got to walk into the large room that the Kidzercise program would take place in.  He began running in circles and giggling, and the librarian thought he was absolutely adorable. His dad left to peruse the book aisles, and I tried to feel as comfortable in my skin as a person with social anxiety possibly can. Then a few kids came in.  J was so happy to see little people his age!  He went to hug a little girl, but his version of hugging turned into a hold-her-by-the-shoulders-like-a-sea-crab-and-never-let-go, so I had to break that up.  I told him to be gentle with others, and he bounced off to do some more pre-Kidzercising. He wasn't doing anything bad.  I thought the whole idea of the program was for the kids to exercise and socialize, so what's the harm of him running around a little?  Other than the death-clamp he had previously had on the girl, he hadn't bothered anyone.  But then it began.  The whispering.  One old grandma told her grandson "You better not run around like that!"  When J went over to investigate another little girl (no hugging, just looking) her mom said "Let's go over there where those nice behaving little girls are."  I felt the heat in my face and immediately felt like scooping J up and darting for the door.  But he was having such a good time, so I stuck like a statue to my chair and wrung my hands in misery.  

When the actual program began, J loved the music.  He did his own little thing, but he did imitate a few of the moves that everyone else was doing.  I still felt like all eyes were on me and my son, though, and I was so glad I had taken a Klonopin before leaving; else I would have succumbed to a full blown panic attack by then.  I tried to do the movements that all the other parents and children were doing, even the part where we all had to crawl on the floor.  I was feeling so self-conscious, but I was trying so hard to be a good parent. I want my kids to have as normal of a childhood as possible, so stuff like Kidzercise just comes with the territory.  I was unbelievably happy to see my fiance walk inside though, and I immediately asked him to take over while I went out into the library to look for some books.  I went out to the book aisles with my list but I couldn't even read it, I was so nervous.  So I just pretended to be looking for books.  Because, you know, all eyes are on me.  That is my version of reality.  A few short minutes later, here came J and his dad; apparently he didn't like Mommy leaving the room.  I got my fiance to help me look for the rest of the books, and I took J to play with some puzzles.  He happily put together a picture of farm animals while I tried to slow my breathing.  A van full of people from the halfway house that is run by the mental health clinic I go to had come in and most of them were using computers nearby.  I couldn't help think maybe that's where I belonged.  What set me apart from them?  The fact that I am living on the outside, but unable to work due to my illness, and reliant so much on the man who for some unearthly reason loves me?  They looked so happy, much like J had looked when running around in the Kidzercise room.  And there I was, uncomfortable, trying not to run out the door into oncoming traffic.  As if on cue, I heard a siren down the road.  As it got closer, I felt my courage melting away.  I wanted to run, to cry.  I wanted to be stronger than this.  I wanted this to be a good experience for my son.  Now look what I had done.

J fell out of his chair and let out a cry.  The whole room -the people, the books, the walls - all turned to look at us.  I picked him up and walked toward the door.  On the way, I whispered to my fiance that I was taking J to the car.  He knows what that means all too well, so he went to check out the books he had already gathered.  

As I half-walked, half-ran to the car, the others from Kidzercise were leaving the building as well.  I tried not to look at them in hopes that would somehow make me invisible.  I strapped a still content J into his car seat and made my way to the passenger seat.  A man was sitting in the driver's seat of the van beside us, and I felt like he was staring at me.  I began to worry he was waiting for us to move our car because we were parked slightly crooked.  Maybe he was angry at me.  I refused to look in his direction, busied myself "looking" for something in my bag.  Finally he cranked his van and left.  My fiance came to the car shortly after, handing me the books.  I held my breath as we made it out of the parking lot.  He said the librarian had told him to bring J back next week. 

We'll see.  We'll see.  

The Appeal of Self-Harm

It's been a rough day, so I may blog about it in a little while.  That usually helps me more than anything, especially since I haven't been to the therapist in a while.  Everyone needs an outlet, a way to release the tension that is self-expressive without being harmful.  I honestly think writing is what has kept me from engaging in more self-harm.  It's a figurative slicing of the veins, as opposed to the more dangerous, literal form.  I recall a brief time years ago when I did engage in self-harm, mainly cutting, and it was because I was such a wreck I couldn't even get words out on paper (or on the computer screen).  I was stuffed to the brim with emotion and terror, and there seemed no way to get it out.  So I cut.  And it helped somehow.  Obviously, it was not a good solution, and it's not something I would recommend to anyone.  When I didn't cut I drank.  And sometimes I did both. Later, I found other ways to help release the pain when I am unable to focus enough for writing. Like painting (which I am horrendous at, but it's relaxing).  I still occasional have an urge to hurt myself when I am extremely upset about something, but I think it's been about three years since I actually did it.  I am very proud of that.  I am also very aware that those three years could go down the drain in a matter of seconds if my need for relief becomes too strong.  As much as I normally hate pain, it has such an appeal when my emotional turmoil is so high. It's the ultimate distraction from what is going on inside my head, and add in the release of endorphins: voila! A messy bliss, though for me it was always accompanied by a horrible shame for what I had done, and then disgust (I have an aversion to the sight of blood). For anyone who has never had the urge to self-harm it may sound like the weirdest thing ever, but for those who do struggle with it, it feels like the only way to get that monster out. 

America's Issue with Mental Health & How We Can Fix It

In America, mental health issues often carry a negative stigma that can interfere with a person’s ability to seek out and receive the appropriate treatment. Although many people view mental health issues as an individual problem, the unfortunate truth is that mental health conditions impact all of society. From the workplace to social relationships, the consequences can be dire when a person is unable to treat their mental health condition. While there is no easy answer, there are several things that can be done to fix mental health issues in America through a combination of understanding, education and financial support that will ensure everyone has access to mental health services.

Mental Health Issues in the Headlines

Recent headlines have demonstrated the serious consequences that can occur when individuals are left to cope alone with untreated mental illness. As more information comes available regarding the recent tragedy of the Washington Navy Yard shooting, it has been discovered that the shooter, Aaron Alexis, had a long history of untreated mental illness. This included serious symptoms such as paranoia, insomnia and hearing voices. Tragically, his mental health condition led to him taking the lives of many other people who had no idea of the hostility that was brewing. While there is no excuse for his actions, knowing that Alexis struggled with violent thoughts and hallucinations can explain his lack of self-control.

Reasons Why People Forgo Treatment

Sadly, many people decide to forgo treatment even when they suspect they have a mental health disorder. This can be due to one or a combination of reasons. In addition to concern regarding the negative view of society that pervades discussions of mental illness, many people who struggle to cope with a mental health condition cannot afford to seek treatment or follow up on filling their medicine prescriptions. According to a study conducted in 2011 by the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration, being unable to afford the cost of treatment was the primary reason why people left their mental health condition unchecked.

Being financially unable to seek treatment may seem as though it is a problem only associated with the very poor; however, the issue of affordability goes much deeper than one’s bank account. The study also showed that those who did have insurance still could not always afford their treatment, and some people also struggled with finding a provider within their network. To compound the issue, many people with mental health issues on their medical record have found it virtually impossible to be accepted for a health insurance plan.

How the Affordable Care Act Plays a Role

After decades of negativity surrounding mental health treatment, it is finally becoming a recognized public health issue that is being addressed by federal, state and local levels of government and community involvement. One of the main ways that access to mental health services is being addressed is through the Affordable Care Act. Currently, health insurance companies are no longer allowed to deny a person a policy based upon pre-existing conditions. Additionally, 2014 heralds the beginning of an era when health insurance companies must also pay for mental health services.

As the nation moves forward toward a new beginning where health care coverage will be more accessible to everyone, it is important to stop the debate regarding the negative connotations of the plan. Instead, it is important to recognize the benefits that come with treating some of the most vulnerable members of the population who may be struggling with a mental health condition that with treatment, can be overcome so they can be a positive contributor to society as well as their families.

Derek is currently blogging for Aligned Signs, a site that helps connect like minded people by using astrology, psychology, and personality tests. When he is not blogging, he enjoys relaxing with his girlfriend and catching up on their favorite movies.