Progress...or Something Like It

Oftentimes I can't tell whether I am moving forward or backward. Progress is a tricky thing. I'm getting older, but am I getting wiser? Some days I am really cynical. Other days I fake attempts of optimism (this is always a short lived play; I am a realist, after all). Other days depression vows to defeat me. Tonight I happen to be very happy and hopeful and more apt to take things at face value, rather than muddling things up with over-analytical thinking.

I have been on a bit of a roller coaster lately, not only with my moods, but with my life goals.  I have spent a fair share of time on getting my hopes up, having them fall abruptly, being crushed by imaginary setbacks, and being uplifted by the smallest advancements to my goals that bystanders would just overlook or take for granted.  I hold certain intentions dear to me, and when I care about something my whole being revolves around it whether it is healthy to do so or not. I have to keep reminding myself that it's okay that the best things in life take time, and that awful dreaded word PATIENCE.  I also have to clutch in my hands a thing called reality because not everything turns out the way we want it to.  We may yearn for a certain outcome more than anything in the world but never attain it, because our fate holds something better.  As faithless as I can be at times I do still believe certain aspects of our lives are meant to be.  I also believe that there are a lot of treasures along the way to finding our destiny but it is very easy to miss out on them if we focus too hard on the future.  Today is here for a reason.  We can choose to enjoy it, or we can choose to underestimate it, and perhaps lose the best part of our lives along with it.  

Bipolar From the Other Side

Our guest blogger for this week wishes to remain anonymous for protection of her identity, as she reveals an intimate firsthand account of what it is like to grow up with a parent with untreated Bipolar Disorder. 
 

My battle with Bipolar Disease began in January 1977. The day I was born! How, you might ask? Well, it's a long story! My mom has it. But in the 70's it wasn't a known illness. Those were the days of generalized mental illness and not much was known about it. Most doctors classified everyone with mental illness into one of two groups, depressed or other. Most mental illness was treated with heavy drugs and hospitalization for a short period of "rest". They put the person in the hospital and drugged them up, and after a brief stay they released them with a notebook full of drugs and a bill of clean health. Not much follow up was done. Like my mom, those plans were not followed after release and most of them either didn't take the medications or abused them. 

My mom was released with her pills and a  nice dose of drug addiction to go with it. Like other individuals with bipolar she was misdiagnosed as only depressed. No one goes to the doctor when they are happy and full of energy. Mom learned pretty quickly that the medicines she was given caused her to have "lots of energy and fun" or in other words they triggered her manic states. From her side she had all the energy in the world to do everything. She could clean house and still have energy to go party with her friends! From my side it meant a lot of 2 a.m. house scrubbing! I remember one time she woke my brother and I up at 3 a.m. to disinfect the house with bleach and ammonia. I was 8, and after a quick rescue by my aunt we were once again placed in the "comforts" of my grandmother's home. My grandmother was a hoarder but at least there we were allowed to be children! My mom went on another "vacation to get more rest"! I loved living with my grandmother, because being there I was allowed to play and it was always the same house. With my mom we moved a lot, sometimes not having our own home but instead bouncing from one of her "friends" to the next. Many times I had to hide in my closet or under the bed with my little brother while my mom's current boyfriend thundered through our ghetto apartment on a drunken rage. There were many abusive boyfriends that came and went in her life, some not even staying longer than the night. Sometimes we would be woken up late at night with her throwing what little possessions we had into a car and flying off because "someone was after us"! She took her medication and then added to them as she saw fit. Most of the time those medicines were washed down with a healthy drink of alcohol! 

As I got older I realized something was wrong with my mom other than just depression. I tried to understand what was wrong with her but came to an understanding that many of the problems she had came from improper treatments. Most of the doctors she saw just gave her pills to take and that was it. Those pills lead to drug addiction and her taking other illegal drugs on top of them. Not having proper treatment also allowed other smaller mental illnesses to become bigger ones. Her obsessive compulsive disorder became an obsession with germs and cleanliness. Instead of baths we were bleached to kill the germs we brought home from school. The manic states triggered by the misdiagnoses and treatment for depression led to her being very promiscuous and erratic behaviors. Many times there would be guys in and out of the house all day long. She became abusive when the drugs ran out or when her ever shifting moods changed. I was entered into pageants as a way for her to get easy money. She became obsessed with my weight and appearance refusing to let me eat for days sometimes because I had lost, saying it was because I was fat. I would be forced to exercise after eating to be sure I kept a slim appearance. When there was any new illness out my mom would come down with it. Many times I remember being taken to a doctor when I felt fine and being told I needed to tell the doctor I was sick. My brother was too. She became convinced things inside her body needed to be removed. 

As time went by she developed a sort of obsessive paranoia. She thought the government had sold her drugs and were now controlling her like a puppet. She thought cars were following us because they were on the same road as us, people walking down the road were spies. We lived in downtown Atlanta mind you! We moved to the country to "hide from the spies" when I was 11. After that she still thought we were being followed when we would go get groceries. Our phones were bugged so they could listen to our phone conversations. When I rebelled against her paranoia I became "one of them". I was working with the government to try to kill her. She thinks everything I do has some secret motive planned out by the spies to be carried against her. 

Today after years of drug addiction and improper treatment for mental illness my mom has failing health due to the drug abuse, multiple unwarranted surgeries, and poor self care. She thinks that her phones are still bugged but now she has a new suspicion to add to it. She thinks that she was tricked into getting satellite television service and that the "spies" took advantage of the installation to install cameras in her house to watch her. She screams at the top of her lungs at it to stop watching her when she turns it on and the blue light comes on. She has her moments when it gets so bad I wish she would just hurry up and die; other times she's perfectly normal. Those times switch without warning, sometimes as fast as a matter of a few seconds. I know it's bad to say I wish my mother would die but during those times it's impossible to reach her or even get her help. She has mood swings where she'll go from having a good time laughing one minute to where she's crying the next and suicidal. She sometimes has mood swings so drastic she goes from happy and looking forward to having a family gathering to extreme rage because in her eyes we're "all trying to hurt her and we've all been turned against her" and she wants to kill us all. She becomes violent not only towards us but to herself as well. I sometimes look forward to putting her in a nursing home and forgetting her. I want someone else to have to deal with her. I feel like I am alone in her care because both my father and brother cater to her whims to keep her from turning on them or trying to hurt herself. The rest of the family treats her like a family joke, something to be made fun of or joked about. My efforts to try to help her are met with violence from her and sometimes resistance from my family because they don't want to deal with her. She goes to many different doctors to get pills or try to make them cut on her, sometimes causing injures or infections to get them. When a doctor catches on she stops going to them and says the spies got to them. She thinks that the spies have put things in her body to cause cancer, which she claims to have but has never been diagnosed with. She had all of her teeth pulled because she thought that there were spying devices in them. A lot of the doctors are just out to make money!

I live in fear that I will turn out like her. I question everything I do and even when I am sick I don't like going to the doctor because I worry that it's all in my head. I fear that I will also get mental illnesses as bad as she does. I know I have severe O.C.D. I have a bad fear of germs that I try to hide; I have to have things specific ways or I become anxious. I know these are caused from her telling me growing up that I would die from germs. My first relationships were with men who were abusive and treated me just like those I saw her date. Because of those abusive relationships I have developed P.T.S.D. which causes the O.C.D to become worse. I am extremely detail focused to the point of scrapping entire projects to start over again due to one tiny flaw. 

This is why I am a strong advocate for proper mental health care, correct diagnosis, and strong support. Without those the mental health and well being of the individual can deteriorate to a point where it can not be helped easily. When a person has a mental illness it not only affects the person but those around them as well, especially children they may have. Mental illness needs to be properly cared for not only by the individual but also by those around them because sometimes the person isn't aware of their own actions. It's not something to be hidden or treated like a family shame. It takes the entire family to support the person and assure they take care of their own health and take their medicine properly.

-Anonymous

The Two Sides of Depression

 I was going to work on my current article tonight since I'm so behind on updating the site, but I can't focus on it because of all the emotions welled up inside of me. The last two days have been dreadfully hard, as severe depression has made me unable to cope with the world around me. I guess this deepest realm of depression leads to paranoia in my case, because I have felt largely criticized and verbally attacked by my closest loved ones. And that hurts. Whether I am overreacting or not, the pain is real, and I ache to be loved and accepted right now.

Why is it when we need comfort the most, it's so hard to come by? I have my suspicions of why.

What people who have never experienced severe depression don't realize, is that the pain we are feeling can't be easily vocalized. It is difficult to convey what we need; often we don't even know! Usually, I just want someone to hold me while I cry. But do you know how weak and needy that makes me feel? "I want you to hold me." Those words to my significant other can scarcely birth themselves from my lips before I begin to feel guilty and stupid and ashamed for even asking. And it's not that I don't get held in reward for these terribly difficult words, but always in the back of my mind I wonder if he has any inkling to how much I am hurting. Does he really want to hold me when I am like this, or is he just doing it out of duty? I feel guilty for even wondering that. I am grateful for the human contact, the sincerity I receive from him, but even so, I know nothing can really take the hurt away until this awful depression passes. He knows it too. The holding never lasts as long as the ache does. How can it; someone has to carry on, and it's always him who has to hold down the fort until I am well enough to do my share again.

Depression makes us vulnerable to criticism and anger from others. "Why can't you just..." "You're being lazy/selfish/immature."  "Why don't you get off the couch and go take a shower." "You're bringing me down with you."  And of course we aren't trying to make life harder for our loved ones. Most of us are not after attention or special treatment. We aren't making excuses for our lack of participation in daily living. We just really can't function. And that very fact makes us feel worse. Tack on the outside criticism, the impatience with our behavior, the frustration, the nagging, the yelling, the resignation to even care anymore...sometimes the ones who supposedly love us can be our worst enemies in the fight against mental illness.

I sometimes try to picture myself with my loved one's point of view: she hasn't showered in days. She's been wearing the same clothes and her hair is oily. She has no energy. She appears to have no will to do anything. She's behind on housework, barely interacts with the baby, and randomly bursts out crying for no reason. I would try to help her if I could but she seems to be pushing me away and sinking deeper and deeper into her own little world. I'm afraid if I get too close she will pull me down with her. I'm angry because I want to make her feel better and I can't. I'm powerless to stop what's going on with her. I wish she would just snap out of it and go back to being the woman that I love.

Now, I'm no mind reader, and I don't know what is really going through his mind when I get so bad off, but I imagine I'm not too far off in my assumptions. Chances are, your loved ones have a similar point-of-view. Bottom line, depression is a trial for all of us. Going through it, and watching someone we love go through it, both take a toll on one's mind and body. If your loved one will agree to go to therapy with you, or even to their own separate therapist, it could be very helpful in reconciling what each is feeling and how to work together for a successful recovery. Beyond anything, when I am depressed, I want to know I am cared for and that I am not alone. I don't want to be abandoned. In that most unbearable hell, stuffed with bad thoughts and insecurities, I want to know I have a hand to hold throughout, and that when I reach the other side again I will have people that welcome me back to the world of the living with open arms and no lingering disfavor.

*Pub YCN* Contrasting Features of Infant Feeding Methods: An Examination of Distinctions Between Breastfeeding and Formula Feeding

The topic of infant feeding is a prominent one among parents. Browse the baby aisles of any store and you will find a wide array of infant formula ranging in price, dietary needs, and brand. Each brand promises to provide excellent nutritional sustenance comparable to that found in breast milk. In today's busy world where mothers often rejoin the workforce weeks after the birth of their child, formula offers the convenience of not being tied down to baby or breast pump. On the other end of the spectrum, however, research consistently affirms the benefits of a mother's milk outweigh those found in even the most advance formula. Parents struggling to make the best choice for their baby must carefully evaluate many aspects of each option before making a decision. The preference to breastfeed or formula feed is largely influenced by contrasting the financial, social, and nutritional aspects of each option. 

Anyone who has children can vouch for the fact that babies cost money! Economic factors make providing for the needs of infants quite a hardship, especially for lower income families. For this reason, many parents look for ways to save money during the infant stage.  Apart from disposable diapers, formula is one of the most expensive costs during the first year of life. Since many babies can only tolerate certain types of formula, generic forms may be out of the question. Furthermore, there are purchases to be made such as bottles and nipples. Breast milk is an ideal option for some families, as it provides a healthy, virtually free food for babies. Related expenses to be considered include nursing bras, nursing pads, topical cream and other products intended for the care of the nipple area, special nursing pillows, and lactation consultant services. In some cases, nipple shields are necessary to assist a child who has difficulty latching on. Despite the cheaper method of breastfeeding, this may be a harder choice for mothers who must return to work soon after their infant is born. Depending on their workplace, some mothers may be able to pump breast milk on their break and store it in the refrigerator until time to go home. This method requires a suitable breast pump and sanitary containers for storage. While new breast pumps may cost a few hundred dollars, hospitals and other health facilities usually offer rentals for little to no cost. Serving pumped breast milk will necessitate many of the items needed for formula feeding, such as bottles and nipples. If feeding costs exceed a family’s disposable income, the mother and child may be eligible to receive government assistance such as the Women, Infant and Children program (WIC).  It is relative to note that a large number of women receiving assistance from WIC opt to use formula rather than breast milk. “Scholars have suggested that the pharmaceutical company’s economic alliance with the taxpayer-funded WIC program may actually deter low-income women from breastfeeding because of the competing effects of the WIC program (which openly supports breastfeeding), and the pharmaceutical industry that prominently displays formula advertisements at local WIC centers, and routinely distributes free formula to low-income women”

(Chatterji & Brooks-Gunn, 2004; Stolzer & Zeece 2006). Whether a mother has reason to fret over the financial aspect of infant feeding plays a big role in how acutely her decision is swayed by cost factors. 

While costs are not a prime issue for every family, the social reaction to different methods of infant feeding impacts nearly all mothers in one way or another. The American Academy of Pediatrics  recommends breastfeeding as the healthiest choice for an infant’s first year of life. Some doctors and breastfeeding advocates use this information to urge mothers to choose breastfeeding despite the mother’s personal beliefs or feelings on the matter. Consequently, mothers may often harbor feelings of guilt regarding their choice to formula feed. On the other hand, mothers who do decide to breastfeed may be judged unreasonably for breastfeeding in public. Despite laws protecting the rights of breastfeeding mothers in many parts of the world, the public can create an uncomfortable atmosphere by staring, expressing loud, inappropriate comments, or even confronting the mother about moving to a private area to feed her child. Unfortunately, not every public place has a discrete area for mothers to feed their children. It is for this reason that many mothers will choose to pump milk at home to feed to the child on outings, or to formula feed. “Women are simultaneously encouraged and discouraged by societal expectations regarding breastfeeding. The message seems to be ‘The ideal mother breastfeeds, but not if we have to see it’. It sets up an impossible situation where women feel negative emotions about their feeding choice, regardless of what that choice is” (Guttman &  Zimmerman 2000).

Despite years of perfecting the components of formula, there are still differences between it and breast milk. Breast milk contains the perfect amount of nutrients for baby; specifically, each mother makes the perfect milk for her own baby. Her milk will change and adapt to accommodate the precise nutritional needs of her own child. “There are reported long-term benefits for the child such as immunity and a decreased risk of metabolic syndrome and obesity. There is also the suggestion that the cognitive development of breastfed babies is superior to artificially fed babies” (Savino & Lupica  2006). In addition, breast milk contains infection-fighting antibodies not found in any formula. Some babies have difficulty tolerating the synthetic nutritional components of formula, which can lead to gastric distress and, in more severe cases, malabsorption. Generally, the mother’s milk is more easily digested and absorbed by baby. Nutritional content of formula depends highly on the proper preparation and amount of formula given. The guidance of the child’s pediatrician can help ensure that baby is receiving the adequate type and amount of formula for exact age, weight, and individual needs. 

The choice to breastfeed or formula feed is rarely based on a single consideration. Rather, each aspect of infant feeding must be weighed carefully in effort to make a well-informed decision. Aside from all evidence related to determining the most beneficial choice in infant feeding, deciding whether to breastfeed or formula feed remains a personal right of the parent, and may be persuaded through examining the distinctions between each option in order to form an educated opinion on what is best for parent and child. Undoubtedly, the financial, social, and nutritional aspects of each option play a role in the decision. 

*Please note that several medications, psychiatric or otherwise, are unsafe to take while breastfeeding. Speak to your doctor about your options. Often, the same adjustments that were made to your medications to accommodate pregnancy will work while breastfeeding, but not necessarily. Lithium, for instance, may be assumed safe by your obstetrician during pregnancy, but not while breastfeeding. Do your research and ask your health provider what may work best for you. 

 -Amy Purdy

References

Guttman, N., and Zimmerman, D. R. (2000). Low-income mothers’ views on breastfeeding. Social Science and Medicine, 50, 1457–1473.

Savino F, Lupica MM (2006) Breast milk: Biological Constituents for Health and Well-being in Infancy. Recenti Prog Med. 97(10):519–27

Stolzer, J. M. (2010). Breastfeeding and WIC Participants: A Qualitative Analysis. Journal Of Poverty,  14(4), 423-442. doi:10.1080/10875549.2010.517081

Alcohol and Bipolar Disorder: A Cocktail For Disaster?

I rarely watch television, but since I was feeling a little blue last night I flipped on the tube and settled on watching a couple of sitcoms for some comedic relief. In the course of one hour's viewing time I witnessed at least five beer commercials. I finally had to turn the TV off because it was making me crave a beer something fierce, and I was seriously considering breaking into the cooking wine, since there is currently no beer in the house.

As you may well be aware, substance abuse is fairly common with sufferers of mental illness. While I personally don't see anything dreadfully wrong with an occasional drink to let off some steam, great care must be taken in making sure it does not become a habit that you depend on. It is also important that you make sure alcohol does not interact dangerously with your medication. In addition, since alcohol is a depressant, it can often worsen your symptoms. Another risk is the loss of inhibitions, which can be especially detrimental in the already unbridled territory of mania.

Ranking only second to caffeine, alcohol is a wildly consumed psychoactive drug. While caffeine is often consumed for its get-up-and-go effects, people choose alcohol for many different reasons. It's the legal drug of choice at many celebrations. It is also a quick fix for the the ailments of stress, depression, and anxiety. If I have a social function to go to I often will drink a small amount of alcohol before I go because it loosens me up enough to reduce the chance of a socially induced panic attack, and allows me to actually enjoy the company of others. It is tricky business, mind you, to drink just enough to cope with the anxiety but not enough to appear like I have been drinking. I have been known to show up at a family Christmas get-together quite sloshed. I would not recommend doing it that way, as it is embarrassing for all involved!

The following illustrates the effects of alcohol more specifically:

Published on DrugsAlcohol.info (http://www.drugsalcohol.info)

Blood alcohol concentration (BAC) is usually recorded in milligrams of alcohol per 100 millilitres of blood. This can be shortened to milligrams percent, written as mg%.

One unit is equivalent to 15mg% for an average man and 20mg% for an average woman.¹

BAC	Effect
20mg%	More relaxed, pleasantly calm, a feeling of well being.
30mg%	More talkative, losing some inhibitions, risk of accidents starts to increase.
50mg%	Carefree, inhibitions going fast, judgement beginning to be affected, decision-making skills start to deteriorate.
80mg%	Hand-eye coordination markedly diminished, accident rate doubled.
100mg%	Obvious deterioration in physical and social control, clumsy and emotional.
160mg%	Swaying and slurring, obviously drunk.
200mg%	Some staggering, double vision and perhaps vomiting.
300mg%	Grossly intoxicated and semi-comatose.
400mg%	Unconscious and unable to arouse, breathing shallow, cough reflex lost, high risk of suffocating on inhaled vomit.
500mg%	Death likely from paralysis of breathing.

References

1. National Health and Medical Research Council. Australian Alcohol Guidelines: Health risks and benefits. Canberra: National Health and Medical Research Council, 2001.

And here's a nifty little calculator to determine what impact your drink of choice may have on you  BAC Calculator

While mild to moderate alcohol consumption can somewhat assist in uplifting mood, reducing stress, and facing social obligations, there is a thin line between a healthy amount of drinking and substance abuse. Not only is alcohol dependence harmful to physical health (say goodbye to your liver), but it can wreak havoc on your home life and job performance, and can also delay recovery and even worsen psychological disorders.

Generally, drinking is not the greatest activity for someone with Bipolar Disorder, as it can trigger depressive episodes and increase the severity of other symptoms associated with the illness.  Neurological effects of alcohol in a patient with Bipolar Disorder can make treatment more difficult, thereby delaying recovery from depressive or manic episodes. Moreover, alcohol use affects sleep patterns, preventing your body from reaching the deep REM sleep stage that accounts for the most beneficial duration of rest. Adequate sleep is essential for mood management in Bipolar Disorder. There are also serious dangers to mixing alcohol with psychiatric medications. Here you will find a list of common interactions associated with alcohol and certain prescription drugs: Alcohol-Medication Interactions  Speak to your doctor about whether drinking, of any amount, is safe with your medications.

Studies conclude that women with Bipolar Disorder are seven times more likely to become alcoholics than those without the illness, and men with Bipolar Disorder are three times more likely. According to researchers from the University of California at Los Angeles, "Men with bipolar, who are alcoholics, most often had a family history of alcoholism, bipolar disorder and drug abuse when compared with nonalcoholic bipolar men. Alcoholism among bipolar women, however, did not stem from family lineage. Their addiction had more to do with anxiety and depression". It is important to understand why you drink, and to prevent it from taking over your life. Like any addiction, the dependence on alcohol can be a gradual development that you are not aware of until it has become a problem.  To examine your drinking habits and determine whether you may need help, fill out this Alcohol Abuse Questionaire.

In closing, only you and your doctor can decide whether a little innocent bubbly will be a safe venue for enjoyment. If the doc gives you the okay, then remember to drink responsibly and DON'T DRINK AND DRIVE!

-Amy Purdy

Breakdown of the System

The remedies we are offered with promise of healing make us sicker. We search for answers only to find more questions. Our quest for safety and understanding lands us in a place of stigma and hostility. Our friendships turn sour from our inability to coincide, and their inability for patience, to bear with us. We are clothed like regular people but our insides are brimmed with monsters, demons, complications. We are perpetual children; we can’t seem to grow up, to grow out. We attempt the perplexity of normalcy, but we look in the mirror every day and see what others cannot perceive. We are mysteries, consumed by the unseen, overwhelmed with the terrors of our own minds. We don’t understand ourselves. Can anyone help us? Will anyone try? They try to forget us, sweep us under the rug, alienate us. And we alienate as well, because we are conditioned to think that is what we deserve. We hurt before we can be hurt. We lose our ability to trust. We are amazing people, brilliant in our own ways. We see the world in brighter colors, louder sounds,  more frightening patterns. We fight our battles with the wrong weapons. We feel defeated. We lose our ground, our everything.

There has to be a better way.

The Core of Destruction, and How to Rebuild Yourself

I am going to share a journal entry of mine from three years ago. I am proud to say that I have come a long way from the person I was when I wrote it. I want to share it because maybe someone reading can relate to it. Perhaps you are dealing with the same emotions, the same immobility to improve your circumstances and enjoy life. Handicaps and illnesses can do that to a person. So can damaging relationships, especially when abuse is involved, and other problematic situations. 

 

Circa 2009

 

I don't know how to deal with change.  With things lost.  Things gained.  Every bit of it leaves me feeling empty. And alone. And scared.  I start questioning decisions I've made, decisions I thought were good ones at the time, decisions that would bring changes for the better somehow.  But do things ever really get better?  Or do we just trade one misery for another all the days of our life? 

I alone have to live with the full quantity of what I've been and what I become.  And when I look in the mirror I see someone who is terrified to move, to speak, to taste what the world has to offer. Because I've seen how wrong things can turn out, and I've conditioned myself to trust only in the inevitable doom that is waiting to pounce around every corner.  Therapists have names for that kind of thinking, and they have their so-called cures for it as well.  But there's only so many layers of your being you can strip away until you're left with nothing at all. 

Perhaps I'm more frightened of what hides at my core than all the heavy cloaks of defects I'm clothed with could ever allude to. 

I conclude from this that I fear myself, and if that is so then how would I ever escape fear, for wherever I go...there I am. 

How can I ever trust my own decisions? Or trust the change that comes about from them as something safe and worthwhile?

 

~~~~~~~

I am relieved that I have endured many of the changes I was so afraid of when I originally wrote the journal entry. None of those changes were easy, and I still have some healing to accomplish, but I am a work in progress, as all of us are. I have learned that as long as I am working toward a goal, then I am living. It is when I become complacent with myself, or disgusted and resolved, that I start losing my passion once again, and for me, that is not acceptable. It shouldn't be for you, either.

Keep moving, dear friends. Keep trying. Keep surviving. Keep loving and hoping and dreaming. The core of destruction is losing your voice and accepting, even expecting, defeat.

Guest Blogger Carrie Wampler: The Emotional Impact of Miscarriage

When I was asked to do a guest post regarding miscarriage, I readily agreed and figured I could whip up a post within a day or two. Three posts and two weeks later, I realized it wasn’t going to be that easy. I write several posts a day on my blog, so I didn’t understand why I was having such trouble writing this post. I then realized that my typical blog posts are light hearted. I usually blog about a new kitchen recipe or offer a fun product giveaway. Discussing the loss of my baby, though, isn’t lighthearted or fun. To be honest, I really have to dig deep within myself for the strength to write such a post as it brings up emotions and feelings that some days I would rather not experience. But I have also learned that discussing the loss of my firstborn is essential for me to grieve and move forward with life. It also gives me the opportunity to encourage and relate to other women who feel totally isolated due to a miscarriage experience.

My miscarriage happened just 4 short months ago. We were one of the few couples who got pregnant within the first month of trying. We were ecstatic and naively told people we were expecting just days after the two lines turned pink. I can’t pinpoint why, but in my heart from the beginning I just knew something didn’t feel right. Several weeks later, my gut instinct proved true as physical symptoms and poor blood work results confirmed I was losing my first baby. 

I didn’t know what to expect emotionally. The physical symptoms ceased within a week, but my emotions were just ramping up. One minute I would be crying, the next I would be lashing out in anger. I was frustrated with my roller coaster of emotions. I was frustrated that my body rebelled on me and caused my baby to die. I was frustrated with myself- was there something I could have done to have stopped it all from happening? 

 Others would try to comfort me, most to no avail. I know their intentions were good, but to hear them say that “I was young” and that “more children would come” just angered me. I didn’t care about other children at that moment; I just wanted that baby back. That baby was the one my heart instantly connected to when I saw the double lines. Regardless, the best comfort to me was the friend that simply hugged me, brought me my favorite chocolate bar and simply said “I am so sorry”. No other words were needed, because there really aren’t any words that can heal the pain the loss of a baby creates.

 I named my baby. Some find that odd as I wasn’t even far enough along to know whether it was a boy or a girl- but I named it Mizpah. Mizpah means ‘watchtower’ and comes from the old testament bible verse that states “The Lord will watch between me and you while we are separate from one another”. I take great comfort in my baby’s name and its meaning, and the connection I feel with my baby will last forever.

You can read more from Carrie Wampler at croutonscorner.com

Taming the Dust Dragons

Nothing puts me in a better mood than housecleaning. Yes, I am fully aware that may sound a little off to a few, but given my OCD tendencies for order and anti-germs, I suppose it's only fitting. Yet, despite my enjoyment of the tasks, I have a lot of difficulty getting them done. I am very scatterbrained, for one thing. I forget what I am doing, lose track of time, and then freak out when I can't remember where I put the baby (hint: usually in the crib or playpen, but it scares me to get distracted from him by being so engrossed in chores). I also get very easily overwhelmed. My manias and mixed states bring about tasmanian devil style thought racing, and I think of so many things I want to do all at once that I scarcely know where to begin. I end up exhausted before I even get started, or I bounce from chore to chore without really finishing any of them. Depression brings its own set of complications with major fatigue, apathy, and consequent self-hatred for getting so behind on housework. Cleaning is actually one of the very few things that will help raise my spirits during a depression, but it's just so hard to get moving! I've learned that if I force myself (and trust me, it's like being the mule and the farmer at the same time), then once I get up and moving it makes me feel better. Plus, there's nothing more uplifting than looking over a clean house and feeling that fresh sense of accomplishment.

I have tried several different approaches to cleaning. FlyLady (created by Marla Cilley) was one of the earlier methods I tried, and while her acronyms and such were cute at first, they grew to be quite annoying after, say, five minutes. Don't get me wrong; she does have a lot of valuable concepts going on, but overall her personality and methods just weren't compatible with my expectations. 

The New Messies Manual by Sandra Felton was a closer fit for me. Her book really helped me see why I procrastinate on housework, so that I could better resolve the issues and get to work! It had a lot of great tips for organizing and making things simpler and more logical in the long run. I have lost my copy of the book, unfortunately. No doubt, it was a victim of poor housekeeping, despite the great knowledge I learned from the book. Hey, no plan is foolproof! 


More recently, I stumbled upon a site that claimed I could easily clean my whole house in 20 minutes a day for 30 days. Ludicrous, you say! Well, see for yourself: Thirty Day Schedule.

 Let me break in for just a moment and explain what I am working with here. I moved in with my fiance two years ago. Before that time, the home had only housed menfolk. His father (who passed away a couple of years ago) originally owned the place, and before I came along the occupants consisted of my fiance and his younger brother. Bachelor pad does not even begin to describe it, folks. I love these guys to death, but it was obvious from the get-go that housework was not high on their priority list (was it even on their list??) I set to work almost immediately after moving in. I got a few things organized. I tackled some of the dust bunnies. I quickly gave up on the stained carpet (did they use their floors for mud bogging?) I was making slow but certain progress, and I was quite proud of myself. Then, pregnancy occurred. And no ordinary pregnancy. This was THE pregnancy from hell. Nausea and vomiting 24/7. Literally 24/7. By the time 2nd trimester rolled around I was able to keep food down, but then I had an even lovelier ailment. My hip/pelvic bones had become misaligned (medical term for this condition is symphysis pubis dysfunction, but I just called it agonizing pain). This required a lot of bed rest and physical therapy. I went on to give birth to a healthy baby boy, and all nine months of discomfort melted away the moment I held him in my arms for the first time. We settled in at home and began the notorious stage of sleep deprivation. I also suffered from some postpartum depression. After I began to feel better and my son had fallen into a halfway decent schedule, I really took in what surrounded me: a really messy house. The dust bunnies had metamorphosed into dust dragons. The organizational improvements I had been so proud of months ago had been undone and forgotten. The idea of trying to get this place presentable again, all while caring for a baby, exhausted me just to think about. But I hate a messy house more than anything. I need cleanliness and order for my mental health. It's just the way I'm programmed. I knew I had to do something, and fast! I came up with my own way of doing things, which was kind of a spin-off of every cleaning book or site I had ever read, adapted for my own special circumstances. Here I will share with you some of my "wisdom" on the subject:

Rule #1  It's okay to have a messy house. Yeah, really! This was the hardest thing for me to accept. I like everything to be perfect, especially if company is coming. This perfectionism often led me to spend great attention to detail on certain things (like the inside of the oven, or the crevices under the bathroom cabinet that no one sees) and totally miss the boat on the regular stuff like sweeping and dusting and blah blah blah. I was trying to do too much, you see. I would get started on ridiculously mundane projects and run out of steam before I got to the the more essential chores. I had to face the fact that I just can't do it all. My children need me more than the mop does. Visitors come to see me, not inspect my domestic performance (and if they do come to inspect, then they shouldn't be allowed to visit anymore!) So I let go. I...let...go. And it wasn't a one time thing. No, I have to let go every day, at every occasion, no matter who might see the house in varying stages of clean or chaos. I just can't bog myself down worrying about what people think of my home anymore. We don't live in an enormous house with a live-in housekeeper. We live in a mobile home that is a little too small for our family, and no amount of scrubbing is going to unleash the fact that it is an aging, small home. And that's perfectly okay. I love my home because it houses my favorite people, and my duty is to nurture them. So before I set out to deep clean our home I ask myself what really needs to be done, and what can wait, which leads me to the next rule...

Rule #2 Health is the foremost concern. If you have ever watched the show Hoarders: Buried Alive you know what an unhealthy home looks like. If there's moldy food in the kitchen, animal feces on the floor, or so much clutter it's dangerous to walk, then your house is not healthy for you or your family. If your child or someone else in the home is asthmatic, then you know how important it is to keep dust and pet dander to a minimum. If someone in the home has limited mobility or trouble walking, then obviously great care should be put into making sure all walking areas are clear of clutter. It is these simple things that we should adjust our efforts to. Think about yourself and the other occupants of your home. What really matters the most, as far as health is concerned? Maybe it's the dust, or the clutter, or something else. Always keep those as your main focus. Realize what can wait and what cannot. The following is my personally adapted monthly schedule. I don't always follow it day by day or word for word, but it is more or less a blueprint for keeping me on the right track and avoiding the slump of getting too behind on any particular chore. If you checked out the site I shared earlier in this post, you will find mine looks eerily similar, and that's because it is! But I adjusted a few things to meet my own needs, and you will certainly need to do the same if you choose to try this type of schedule.

 

The 31 Day Schedule

 

Day 1: Surface clean living room and kitchen (pick up stray items, dust, sweep, vacuum)

Day 2: Clean bathrooms (toilets, showers, floors, walls, mirrors)

Day 3: Surface clean master bedroom (put away items, clothes, dust)

Day 4: Surface clean kids’ bedroom (put away items, clothes, dust)

Day 5: Surface clean living room and kitchen

Day 6: Clean bathrooms

Day 7: Clean all interior windows and doors

Day 8: Sweep and vacuum all floors in the house

Day 9: Surface clean bedrooms

Day 10: Deep clean living room (mirrors, baseboards, dust artwork)

Day 11: Clean bathrooms

Day 12: Clean out closets (hang up clothes, mittens, jackets, hats)

Day 13: Sweep front and back porch, pick up trash in yard

Day 14: Deep clean bedrooms (organize drawers, check under bed, tidy closet, dust artwork, fans, lights,

vacuum/mop)

Day 15: Surface clean living room and kitchen

Day 16: Deep clean bathrooms (clean inside drawers, inside of trash cans, tops of mirrors, tile, mop)

Day 17: Clean/sanitize all door knobs, phones, entertainment equipment (remote controls), switch plates, and other things that are repeatedly touched.

Day 18: Clean out the refrigerator, take stock of food, organize pantry

Day 19: Clean out car

Day 20: Surface clean living room and kitchen

Day 21: Surface clean bathrooms

Day 22: Surface clean bedrooms

Day 23: Sweep and vacuum all floors in the house

Day 24: Clean out bathroom cabinets

Day 25: Surface clean living room and kitchen

Day 26: Deep clean kitchen (scrub appliances, wash trash cans, base boards, wipe down and straighten cabinets)

Day 27: Surface clean bathrooms

Day 28: Surfaces clean bedrooms

Day 29: Clean one item you've been meaning to get to and haven't (deep clean your stove, wipe down all light fixtures, tackle a particularly unruly area)

Day 30: Sweep and vacuum all floors in the house

Day 31: Clean out files (paper and online)

In addition to halfway following the daily schedule, I have a cheat method, which is to use "clutter baskets" to store any misplaced items throughout the week that I just don't have time to put away. At the end of the week, whatever has been placed in the clutter basket must find its home-this is mandatory! Otherwise your clutter basket will become a clutter mountain that takes over half the room. If you have kids, then make it a game. Divide up the stuff in the basket and see who puts their pile up the fastest. You can purchase a decorative container for your clutter basket, or you can do what I do and just use a laundry basket and store it out of sight until it's time to put stuff in it at the end of the day. It's a simple and effortless move for those days when you just don't feel like sorting the stuff out that your family has dragged out and left throughout the day. And if someone is looking for something-a specially loved toy, cell phone, dirty socks-just tell them to check the clutter basket first. It's usually in there, and that's a proven fact.


Rule #3 No (wo)man is an island. You don't have to do it all on your own. Okay, maybe you do. As stereotypical as it may sound, most men aren't fond of household chores and, in fact, don't really even see the point in them. But see if there are certain things they don't mind helping out with. Maybe it's taking out the trash, or loading the dishwasher, or cooking, or a number of other things. My honey helps me out a lot just by washing a load or two of clothes for me when I start getting behind. I know they are going to sit in the basket until I fold and hang them, but the fact that he washed and dried them is terrific! And that's another thing: don't nag your man about stuff like this. If they help, don't complain about the way they did it. Just be glad they did it! Otherwise, you may never get them to help you out again. Likewise, don't nitpick your children about how they didn't do something exactly the way you wanted them to. As long as they got the task done in a functional-for-their-age way, then let it slide. You have less resistance to chores that way. 


To sum it up, let go of your prior conceptions about perfection, and learn to love and enjoy your home. Respect the place that shelters you, and it will feel more like a haven, dust bunnies and all. 


-Amy Purdy

Pardon the Delay

I apologize for not updating the site in several days. I am recovering from mental and physical fatigue and will be adding more content within the next few days. Thank you for your patience.

"I am not afraid of storms for I am learning how to sail my ship."  ~Louisa May Alcott