Trapped

I didn’t talk much this Spring. I didn’t get out much. Didn’t answer my phone, or emails, or go to most of the meetings that I was invited to. I begged off because I wasn’t feeling well. And I wasn’t, but it wasn’t because of fatigue from my Multiple Sclerosis or because of my back pain. I was dealing with the most serious bout of depression in my life and I literally couldn’t tell any but my closest friends.

I’m only writing this now because of the amazing turn around that I made this summer and because of the terrible things that are being said right now with the recent assumed suicide of Robin Williams. I have a terrible sympathy for him. While I was never suicidal, I have also never been more helpless in my life.

When I lost my job last September, I was already deeply depressed. In fact, when I saw my neurologist soon after, my father was with me. My doctor made my father solemnly promise to keep an eye on me in case I did become suicidal. From the time of that appointment to the time I left for camp this summer my father and my brother took on the job of making sure that I was up out of bed every day and doing something, even if it was just working on the computer.

My dear friend Kim also started a Bible study around this time that was a lifeline for me. Dad took me to it every week and I studied every day. I found comfort in the routine and Kim checked in on me when I needed it.

I knew that I had a problem and I knew that I needed help. However, that help was so far away from me. I was having such bad anxiety that I literally could not make a phone call to the doctor. Dad had to take me to appointments. I was afraid to drive. It was horrible. Finally, I tearfully and fearfully confessed to Chris that I had to see someone and he had to help. 

It took 2 different psychiatrists to find the problem. I literally had no serotonin. The level should be near 400 and mine was 3. I was prescribed several different supplements and within weeks I was healthy and capable again. 

I think it’s wonderful that everyone is posting help and support lines, but I have been in the terrifying situation of needing help, knowing I need help, and being unable to reach out and grab it. Please don’t judge those who can’t. And thank God for the wonderful people in my life who lifted me up out of the darkness this time. I love you all.

Insomnia

It’s 12:30 in the morning. I’m so wide awake that it’s not funny. My only consolation is that I don’t have to go to work in the morning. But Chase will be awake at 7 am and so will I.

What really sucks is that at 8:30 yesterday (this?) morning, I couldn’t keep my eyes open for anything. Is this a medication issue? Do I drink too much caffeine during the day? (Surely I do..) Maybe I didn’t eat enough or ate the wrong thing.

Sitting here and worrying about these questions definitely doesn’t help me get back to sleep, but blogging has always helped me to clear my head, so hopefully it works tonight.

Sleeping should not be stressing me out. :-/

My wordpress anniversary

It’s my 5 year anniversary with wordpress. That’s pretty awesome. I had a blog with LiveJournal back in those days (I know, I know, but so did the rest of the world), so I never used it, but it still doesn’t seem like that long ago. I opened an account to follow a friend who is gone now. Funny where the world takes us.

Protected: The flu

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

Halloween morning

It’s 6:15 and I’m snuggled in bed. As soon as the boy wakes up the day begins. Pumpkin guts, costumes, and way too much sugar.

Sounds like it’s raining outside. That shit needs to stop. We’ve got fun to have.

Protected: Depression, weather, and activity.

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

Life before the internet

I was thinking today about how boring life would be without the Internet. I read an excellent (little) biography of Jane Austen yesterday that was pieced together from the letters that survive from her lifetime. Of the presumably hundreds to thousands of letters that she wrote in her 41 years, only 160 survive, and she did not keep a diary. That will simply never happen to us. Not the diary part, of course, but our letters not surviving. I leave an enormous digital trail every single day even if I don’t consciously keep a diary or blog.

Then on the radio this morning they read a letter from a listener who was complaining about them making fun of people who use Craigslist to find people to suck blood from. Seriously, Jane Austen was missing out in so many ways.