Showing posts with label antidepressants. Show all posts
Showing posts with label antidepressants. Show all posts

Monday, February 17, 2014

Managing mental illness: Self-care

The last year has been one of the hardest since my first serious mental health breakdown in 2007. I’ve stood way too close to precipice of life and death on more occasions than I think I ever have in my life – particularly midway through last year when I spent five weeks in a psychiatric hospital.

The only reason why I haven't slipped over the edge is my son. Even when the battle seemed too great I just had to think of him – my beautiful five year old boy – and a little voice in the back of my head would tell me to fight on.

It’s been nearly seven years now since I first came truly undone. Over those seven years I have had eight in-patient admissions to psychiatric hospitals, have done three out-patient psycho-educational courses over a 17 month period, had constant therapy with either psychiatrists, psychologists or both, and have read a lot about mental health. Crikey, you'd think I'd be cured by now!

But it is not about finding the cure, it is about managing the condition, and I've learnt a lot along the way about how to keep my head above water, even when I felt the undertow was going to beat me.


Image source


I thought I'd share a few of my survival tips*:

1.      Maintain a good mental health care team

I've been going to the same general practitioners’ centre for seven years. I’ve changed doctors but have maintained my relationship with the surgery over the entire time. If you can find a good GP, stick with them. You don't have to keep telling your story over and over and they can tell when you're not doing well sometimes even before you know it yourself.

I also get all my medications from the one pharmacy. They keep my prescriptions on file and can let me know when I'm due for more. I've built a relationship with a couple of the pharmacists which makes it awesome knowing I've got more people on my team who understand my situation. I went there once during a panic attack when I was out shopping in the city with Noo because that was the closest safe place I could think of. I was supported through the attack while another staff member played with my son – definitely going beyond the usual pharmacy service!

I've had numerous psychiatrists and psychologists over the years. Some I’ve been with for two years or more, some for a very short time. It is critical that you bond with your therapist. You have to trust them with your story and believe that they offer good advice in return. If you feel you've outgrown your therapist or that they have provided all the advice you think they can offer, don't be afraid to move on. They won’t be offended. Your sessions are about YOU. Make sure you control the direction your therapy goes in but be open to new ideas as well. Seeing them regularly (I go once a fortnight) helps with the flow of the therapy.

2.      Family support, if you've got it, is critical – use it yet nurture it

I owe my survival to my family. They support me, especially helping with looking after Noo, but most importantly they listen to me. Especially my mum and my sister. My mum, particularly, has been instrumental in keeping me going over the last year. She lets me go over and over my thoughts and feelings as I try to understand what’s going on in my head. I know it has an incredible strain on her but she never tells me to leave her alone.

3.      Catch up with your best friends and be social to meet new ones

Since my huge lifestyle change from party girl to sole parent my offline social network has diminished. I have a few key girlfriends, most of whom I've known for a very long time. I can go weeks, even months without seeing them, but when we do catch up it is like no time has passed. Maintaining social contact with the world outside my family is sometimes hard for me because I don’t work and I tend to shy away from extending myself outside my comfort zones, especially when I'm unwell. I know, though, that it is good for my mental health if I do get out and connect with people. Meeting people at blogging conferences has been a great way to do this.

4.      Blogging

Blogging has been a real outlet for me. Writing the stories of my past as well as what I’m going through in the present has been really cathartic. For some reason though over this year I've stepped back from my blog. Writing has become a bit of a chore and I’ve become wary of bringing my readers down with the mood my posts.

I am trying to get back into the flow of it now Noo has started big school. Having a project that is all mine that I can work on at my own pace is really healthy for me too. It keeps me busy and using my brain. Even though I don’t work, I can’t just lounge around and read all day or watch TV – that just adds to my feelings of guilt and anxiety. Blogging is like an unpaid job that I am the boss of. The blogging community also provides much needed connection with the outside world and it is a source of support and inspiration.

5.      Pampering

I’m not very high maintenance but I do like to get my nails done every three weeks. I never miss an appointment and have become good friends with the lovely woman who does a great job on them. I love the whole process of deciding on a colour and having someone fuss over me for an hour.

6.      Zoning out

When I can watch the telly, after Noo has gone to bed, I love American shows like Girls, Game of Thrones and House of Cards. I also love going to the movies on my own. Watching the telly is such a great way to sit back and totally forget about my woes. My latest thing is to work on a “paint by numbers” painting at the same time. I started my first one last year and it is totally addictive but relaxing!

Reading fiction is also a great way to zone out but when my anxiety is high I find it very hard to focus. I used to read masses of novels as a way to escape reality but since anxiety has taken over from depression, it is a little harder for me to keep up with.

7.      Mindfulness

I've recently spent a bit of time learning about ‘mindfulness’. I highly recommend anybody, not just those with mental health issues, to look into it. I've been following a great iPhone app called Headspace that takes you through 10 minute mindfulness exercises. I've also listened to Pema Chödrön’s book called Getting Unstuck which made all sorts of sense about the way I can get myself so worked up over things. It also gives practical teachings on how to let go of old shit.

There’s still so much I need to learn about mindfulness and I also need to dedicate more time to actually practicing it.


If you've been reading my blog for a while you'll know I've suffered mental illness throughout most of my life. I know it is something that I will never be cured of, so self-care is survival. Medications and/or talk therapy alone aren't enough. Eating well and exercise are also important and are areas that I need to dedicate more time to.

I believe taking a holistic approach to mental health management is the best way to having a fulfilling life, armed with the tools to battle the bad times, as well as allowing the insight to acknowledge and embrace the great times.


What do you do to look after yourself?

V.



*I am not a mental health care professional. These are my personal experiences and opinions. If you do think you need help with depression and/or anxiety, please seek help from a professional or call Lifeline 13 11 14.






SUBSCRIBE NOW! Enter your email address to receive
babblingbandit.me posts direct to your inbox:


Delivered by FeedBurner



Thursday, October 31, 2013

Who am I?

So my last post was a little rude. Lots of swear words, lots of finger pointing, lots of anger.

I really don't like being like that. Swearing? Whatever! I actually do enjoy throwing out the odd expletive, but I really dislike being angry. When I'm in that mood I become childlike. Actually, teenage-like.

Angst ridden, emo, woe is me, everybody hates me and the world is working against me in a conspiracy to make my life a living misery.

From my psych who won't seem to listen to me regarding the medication I know is not helping me, to the stupid blood taking woman who had to weave around my veins that morning looking for an entry point to get some blood to test the levels of the antidepressant I didn't want to take in the first place.

To make matters worse, after I came back here to my glorious new haven (commonly known as MY room I share with NO ONE!), I wrote that anger filled post and then went to bed and sulked all day, fantasizing about my death that would cause everyone else all the misery I was feeling. You know, just to get all those conspiring against me back!

I woke only to gorge on a whole packet of those overly delicious new Tim Tam Chocolicious Bites for lunch and then went straight back to sleep again.


Yum! (unsponsored)


When I finally did get out of bed it was only when my mum text me at 4.09pm with a "Where are you?". I was fuming! I'd been MIA all fucking day and only now they were looking for me? I could have been at the pub or lying in a pool of my own blood for all they knew.

Ugh! No one takes my tantrums seriously these days!

So off I storm, to the apartment next door, where my parents live (until we put the two apartments together and we all live in one apartment again). Cried my eyes out while dad hugged me as I wailed "There's something seriously wrong with me Daddy!".

I then grabbed my iPhone and sent an email to my psychiatrist with a link to my abusive post and told my parents I was going off all my meds.

"I need to know who the real me is", I cried!

Because that is what it comes down to. While I can look back and write a mildly funny post about it now, at the time I was in a living breathing hell. Mental illness with all its ups and downs suck big time.


Who the fuck am I?


Pumped full of medication that alters my mood (nortriptyline), my ability to concentrate (methylphenidate), my ability to digest food without getting heartburn (rabeprazole), handle anxiety (diazapamquetiapine) and sleep (temazepam), how am I to know exactly who I am?


Who am I?
No filters, no make up (ok my eyelashes are tinted and my hair is bleached),
and I'm cutting back on the meds. 


So I'm getting off all the drugs.

Except the Pariet (rabeprazole). I've tried to get off that before and the old lady heartburn comes back with avengence! And it ain't pretty.

I stopped taking sleeping tablets weeks ago so that is easy. I haven't had any Valium (diazepam) or a Seroquel (quetiapine) since the weekend and I've been going without the Concerta (methylphenidate or Ritalin (in slow release form) as it's more commonly known) since I ran out on Monday.

Antidepressants should never been stopped abruptly so I'm slowly weening off that one. I'm down from 100mg to 75mg and will be down to zero by the time I have my next psych appointment in a week's time.

Right now it is nearly 11am. I slept soundly from about 10.30 last night until Noo came and woke me at about 7.55am. The morning rush to get him to school was OK because his Grandpa is taking him down there in the morning which relieves me of a lot of stress.

So far I feel pretty good.

Yesterday I started an eight week "Mindfulness for Stress Reduction" course at the hospital I hang out out at get treated at. I want to learn how to find that window, or fork in the road, or whatever cliche you want to use, where I get to choose.

I've lived most of my life from one impulse to the next. Blinkers are firmly in place as I reach for the decision that is going to make me feel good right now. The future doesn't exist in my world when it comes to making choices. That is until later when I worry about all the bad choices I have made and my anxiety flares out of control because I've paid no mind to the effect those choices have on the future.

I'm hoping mindfulness meditation will help me find the STOP button which will in turn give me a look in the window of choice or down the forks in the road that offer different paths to choose from therefore giving me the wisdom to make better decisions.

Crikey! Am I making any sense here?

I'm not just talking about the impulse to buy another black dress or to eat that block of chocolate. I'm also talking about emotion regulation as well.

I'm hoping mindfulness will help me find some inner peace.

Fuck, another cliche!

I'm getting outta here before I crack out yet another one.

Mindfulness be with you!

What do you do to quieten your mind?
Got any tips for this impulsive anxious little soul?


V.






SUBSCRIBE NOW! Enter your email address to receive
babblingbandit.me posts direct to your inbox:


Delivered by FeedBurner




Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Doctor, this antidepressant isn't working - so fuck you

I'm so fucking angry right now.

Since my first outburst of tears on 10 May 2013 when I got the sign that my mood was slipping in the wrong direction, I have been on and off a shitload of medications.

None of them have helped me:

Citolapram
Duloxetine
Fluoxetine
Sodium Valproate
Quetiapine
Lithium
Lamotrigine
Diazapam
Nortriptyline

I've had side effect ranging from constipation, headspins, blurred vision, vertigo, dizziness, dry mouth, altered menstrual cycle, headaches, restless leg syndrome, depression, anxiety and now rage.

I'm so angry right now I could punch my fist through this fucking computer.

I'm so angry right now that I'm not getting better.

I'm so angry right now that I have ALL THE THINGS an unemployed person could want but I'm fucking miserable.

I'm so angry right now that I screamed at my son this morning because we were running late for fucking preschool. I pushed him down the hallway because he didn't do what I asked him to do the first time I asked it, or the second, or the fucking third time.

I'm so angry right now because when my one and only child begged me for a kiss for forgiveness I couldn't even look at him because I AM SO FUCKING ANGRY!

I'm so fucking angry because I keep telling my fucking psychiatrist that I'm fucking angry in the fucking morning and he just fucking tells me that I haven't given this fucking medicine enough of a go yet.

Well I think three weeks of fucking anger is enough fucking anger!

I'm so sick of being on this pharmaceutical rollercoaster.

I just want to feel the way I did before this all happened. I know I wasn't 100% before this episode but it was a hell of a lot fucking better than this fucking bullshit!


I'M SO FUCKING OVER IT!


So, Shrink, fuck you!




V.




SUBSCRIBE NOW! Enter your email address to receive
babblingbandit.me posts direct to your inbox (or you'll be in fucking trouble too!):


Delivered by FeedBurner

Friday, September 20, 2013

My brain is driving me crazy... literally

I've been going over and over in my head various topics I want to write about. I don't know about other bloggers but my mind is in a perpetual cycle of blog titles. Like when I'm in the shower I might have some brilliant blog topic going around in my head: as I'm standing under the warm water the first para is written, a witty eye catching title has been formulated. But then I turn off the shower, grab my towel, get on with the day and the thought is gone, laid to rest in the black caverns of my mind along with the bones of other awesome ideas.

The general theme of course is me. I don't ever forget that. This is my blog after all. This virtual dumping ground for the ideas that actually make it into coherent sentences in my little corner of the interwebs. Because of that it disappoints me that my posts are so negative these days. But, as I've read a million times around the blogosphere, we must write "our truth" in order to be authentic. My truth is pretty shitty right now and I apologise for that.

This post has been written for about a week. It's been sitting here in draft on an open browser tab. I've been umming and ahhing as to whether I should bother publishing it at all. Who benefits? Me? I don't know. I'm certainly not writing it in the hunt for sympathy. Maybe my motive is just to document this supremely shit emotional and physical state I'm in. I guess I could just copy and paste it into a Word doc and save it on my hard drive should I ever want to be reminded of this time of my life again. Because this too shall pass.

Maybe there's someone else out there that has similar symptoms. Mental illness sucks hard. The doctors don't know how each medication is going to work on each patient. Or which cocktail of medications is the right one. It's a game of pharmacological hit and miss. Quite frankly I'm sick of riding the pharmacoaster!


Source


Ok, so without further ado, here my list of complaints or symptoms which both my GP and psychiatrist think are probably caused by the meds I'm currently on in combination with clinical depression.
  • Headaches that are mainly around the top of my scalp. To touch my scalp is very uncomfortable. To move my hair around sends shooting pain through my scalp and into my head. I feel like I'm wearing a skull cap lined with spikes.
  • Brain buzzes. Last time I had these symptoms I was on a massive dose of the antidepressant Effexor while suffering acute postpartum thyroid disease. My thyroid was processing the antidepressant so fast causing withdrawal like effects. Back then the symptoms eventually stopped once I was taken off the Effexor. I haven't taken an antidepressant for four weeks so why have I got this very unsettling sensation every. single. day? Every time I move my head it feels like a Star Wars light sabre has passed through my brain. I got that analogy from a medical forum from others suffering similar sensations. None of them had received an adequate diagnosis from medical specialists.
  • Dizziness, vertigo, nausea. The brain buzzes make me very dizzy if they happen while I'm walking/standing. It's getting worse every day. I feel like I'm walking on skates almost 100% of the time. When it's bad it's terrifying. I can feel the ground move beneath me in a sideways and up and down motion. It's freaky and completely unnerving.
  • Sensitivity to loud noises. Not ideal when you've got a almost five year old boy!
  • Jumpiness. Feeling on edge all the time. I flinch at loud noises, people touching me unexpectedly, that sort of thing.
  • Anxiety. I've always got that at some level it's just worse right now.
  • Aggression. Outbursts of screaming and crying so fierce I think I might pass out from the pressure it creates in my head. Poor Noo has been the receiver of such bad behaviour from me which makes me feel extremely sad and guilty.
  • Loss of sensory perception. I am not allowed to drive a car at the moment. I had three really close calls in the car over the weekend that scared the crap out of me. I vagued out and almost didn't brake in time before hitting the car stopped at the lights in front of me. My sense of distance feels warped. Things, like cars, seem further away than they really are.
  • I'm still extraordinarily emotional. This is why I went into the hospital six weeks ago. Even with the change of medication I'm still crying at the drop of a hat. Or at watching with pride as my son makes friends so easily at his new big school open day. Or in fear as I watch my 21 month old niece negotiate the steps in her backyard. Hell I bawled when Ben from Big Brother got to re-enter the Big Brother House!
  • My weight has ballooned out and I've gained 10 kg since May. That's 50% of all the weight I lost since having a $9,000 lapband installed in 2010. Let's talk about some of the emotions around this: failure, fear, defectiveness, disgust... 

That's about it, I think. Awesome, hey. My psychiatrist is baffled. I've started seeing a new psychologist that works with people with eating disorders and body image issues. I know I've got to address the deep dislike I have for myself and my body as well as find out what the fuck is wrong with me physically. What I'm feeling can't be a case of the moody blues! My doctors know that.

The next step? It's back to hospital I go where they'll keep juggling the chemical cocktail that is suppose to fix me. I'm waiting for a bed. Monday is the likely admission day. The hospital I go to is quite a nice place, considering. Going there isn't what makes me sad. Leaving my son is. I know that I have to get better so I can be a better parent for him but still it breaks my heart.

There has to be a turnaround soon.

V.





SUBSCRIBE NOW! Enter your email address to receive
babblingbandit.me posts direct to your inbox:


Delivered by FeedBurner

Saturday, August 24, 2013

The drugs don't work

I'm eight days out of hospital and I feel like shit. Four days ago I was feel bloody fabulous. I went on the longest walk I think I've ever done. The energy, clarity and freedom I felt was amazing. Now, I can't seem to get that feeling back. My brain is playing tricks with me as usual.

The dizzy spells started around three days ago I think. The ground has been moving from under my feet - sideways and up and down. My head feels foggy and I can't really see clearly. I'm anxious and depressed at the same time yet I'm able to have spontaneous fits of giggles and bursts of happiness. I imagine my psyche sitting at an old one armed bandit poker machine. With each yank of the arm, the reels turn and I score a different emotion to contend with. I wish it would stop at happy and walk away from the machine. Enough is enough.

My tear ducts are ready to give forth salty streams of water down my face at the push of a button. Any one of my current sensitivity buttons will do: crowds, blogging, Noo not doing as I ask, Noo being noisy, Noo being messy, Noo being gorgeous, politics, thinking about my parents and wishing they were back home. Yep, anyone of them can start me off.

Combine the wrong spin of the pokie with the more dramatic button being pushed and bam! It's a recipe for the proverbial disaster.

But this too shall pass.

This too shall pass.

Yesterday started like the rest. Woke up....

Ah, fuck it. Was going to tell you about this huge public breakdown I had in the middle of Pitt Street Mall, no less, but I'm going to spare you the details. It started with the dizziness. Poor Noo had to endure the whole thing. It really was terrible.

I'm suppose to be getting better! That's why I'm home from hospital. I can't go back. I just can't leave Noo again. Not until my parents get back at least. He needs the familiarity of his own home rather than being shunted around.

This morning I broke down crying but I decided that rather than hide from Noo I sat with him. I tried to explain my tears and how I was feeling. We were getting ready to go out and he just had his undies and singlet on as he crawled up onto my lap. He's so small with no clothes on. My baby again.

He kissed my hands as I cried and told him how much I love him. That the tears were not his fault. They are no one's fault. Mummy's brain chemistry is just a little weird right now. 

"You need to go back into hospital and get better Mummy", Noo told me.
"No way! I'm not leaving you again. I'll be ok."
"Don't worry about me, Mummy. You have to get better."

My four and a half year old is so brave! Braver than I am that is for sure.


The brave and the bold


I can still feel the dizziness come in waves. It makes me feel out of control physically as much as I've felt out of control emotionally for months now. I think the problem is that I'm having serious withdrawal symptoms from discontinuing one of the medications I was on. Well, I'm pretty much 100% sure.

I was only on fluoxetine (also known as Prozac, Lovan) for about two months and it has been about ten days since my last dose. Prior to that I was on a different SSRI antidepressant called citalopram for about four years. Citalopram is supposed to be quite hard to come off. The dose has to be tapered down so withdrawal symptoms are minimised. In the switch from one to the other, my doctor had me on both citalopram and fluoxetine at the same time for weeks to help avoid any withdrawal symptoms from the citalopram. I haven't had any citalopram now for about six weeks so it should be completely out of my system. Even though I stopped taking fluoxetine abruptly 10 days ago (as directed by my psychiatrist) it is not supposed to have the same withdrawal problems as the other because it has a longer half life which means it stays in the body for longer therefore naturally tapers off slowly.

Phew! Did you get that?

Basically, if none of that makes any sense, my bloodstream should be completely free of SSRI antidepressants and I should be feeling a lot better than I do.

So why am I feeling all the textbook symptoms of SSRI discontinuation syndrome? Brain zaps, dizziness, nausea, vertigo, tremor, confusion, anxiety.

I guess I'll have to wait until my next doctor's appointment to find out.

Dr Google can't tell me everything.

It sure can't tell me when this shall pass.

V.






SUBSCRIBE NOW! Enter your email address to receive
babblingbandit.me posts direct to your inbox:


Delivered by FeedBurner

Thursday, August 1, 2013

This blog is going on a little, ahem... holiday

I was just going to disappear, figuring no one would notice anyway.

I was going to allow myself some privacy and slip away quietly.

But then I remembered my blog's mission: to help break down the stigma of mental illness. To speak openly and to not hide in shame of the fact that I'm not coping at all.

Tomorrow I'm going back into hospital. Hopefully for just a week to sort out my meds, have a break from the daily routines of life, get away from my screens.

The thought of leaving Noo breaks my heart. My parents are like his parents and I'm sure he'll be ok. My motherly instincts are burning in pain. I feel like I'm neglecting him, losing him, setting him up for sadness in his future...

I'm just so tired of crying. I'm so tired of feeling like my skin is as thin as paper, easily torn with the slightest of triggers. The blackest sludge lives within me and leaks out in streams of tears and negativity. How did it get there? Where did it come from?

There are moments of lightness which confuse me. How could I feel OK one minute and so fucked up the next? How is my brain even capable of such rapid changes?

I don't think I have anything else to say. My tiny stats will plummet, any obligations I have to advertisers, PRs, etc will just have to wait.

I'm putting myself first.

Next time I post it's gonna be a cracker. Happy and full of hope.

I'm doing all I can to make sure that happens.



V.



SUBSCRIBE NOW! Enter your email address to receive
babblingbandit.me posts direct to your inbox:


Delivered by FeedBurner

Sunday, July 7, 2013

Three easy positive changes anyone can make to help themselves (especially me!)

The last two months have been some of the most challenging times for me since The Assault, since I hit Rock Bottom, and since I became a new sole parent with undiagnosed acute postpartum thyroid disease.

I had no idea what was wrong with me when things started to go awry in May earlier this year, and I still don't, but my psychiatrist, who has been trying to label me as having Bipolar II disorder since I started seeing him in early 2012, thinks this recent episode is more evidence of that diagnosis.

As my mood swung from the extremes of happiness to aggressive irritation; high anxiety to full blown tears, everyone around me knew something was very wrong. Sometimes these changes would happen within a day, sometimes within an hour and as each day passed without any emotional stability I began to trust myself less and fear everything more.

I've had nine doctors' appointments and seven different medications to try and sort out my topsy turvy mood. Now, touch wood, I think I can confidently say I'm coming through to the other side of this current episode. It has now been a week since any massive swings have occurred and I really feel like I can see clearly for the first time in two months, possibly longer.

While I was in the grips of the episode doing anything positive to help myself seemed impossible or just didn't come to mind at all. I reached for the easy options like chocolate cake and Valium. Now, as the fog begins to clear, I can see there are some easy changes I can make to my everyday routine to really help make myself feel more in control of my life.

These are the No Shit Sherlock life changes anyone can make to help themselves feel better:

1. Eat well


Never easy for me, being the lover of all things sweet and chocolatey, but if I could just cut down on the sugar and increase the fruit, veggies and protein, I'm sure there would be some impact to my mood. I know there would! When I quit sugar last year I felt on top of the world. Getting started is the hardest part. Letting go of the yummy treats sometimes seems almost unfathomable!

My recent blood tests also show I have Hashimoto's Disease (the autoimmune disease Sarah Wilson has that inspired her quit sugar campaign) as a result of the postpartum thyroid disease I suffered so badly with after Noo was born. I didn't realise this before my recent tests. I knew I had to watch my thyroid levels should I ever plan to have another baby, but I didn't realise that I was living with this condition and will forever. Quitting sugar, if only I could do it, could probably make a big difference to my life.

2. Exercise, even just a tiny bit


Shrink ordered me to walk as fast as I could for half an hour a day no matter what. He said to take the order like a prescription, a tablet that I mustn't miss, but of course I've been slack on this one. Everyone knows that exercise helps with depression. This is a scientific fact! The endorphins exercise produce stimulate the reward centre in the brain which, as a recovering drug and alcohol addict, my brain loves!

I don't know why I can't get off my butt and just do it. What is holding me back? What do I fear? My knees and hips are aching from the massive 8kgs I've put on this year since the depression started and I'm feeling old and weary.

I've got to get moving!

3. See my friends more


I've been avoiding my friends a little lately because I don't want to bore them with my continuous tales of woe. They can come here to read about that shit. I feel like I've had nothing positive to contribute to light conversation and my weight gain has made me feel more self conscious about going out, even though I've spent a small fortune on clothes lately (I blame the impulsivity that comes with my mood swings for this!). But I should see my friends because I have some great mates who make me feel good and who I love being with. For all I know, they might be going through shit and need a shoulder to cry on!


One event that has buoyed my feeling of self worth was my recent naming as a finalist in the Bupa Health Influencer Blog Awards in the Positive Life Change category. There are so many amazing blogs in the finalist lists including Sarah Wilson's I Quit Sugar, Carly Findlay, Easy Peasy KidsRandom Ramblings of a Stay at Home Mum and so many more! I congratulate all the finalists and wish them luck.

It is hard to believe that "positive life change" is something I should be recognised for right now, when I struggle so much with the day to day, when the thought of having a 'real job' still terrifies me, and that looking after kids is something that can cause me enough anxiety to run from the room crying. But I have to remember what I was like six years ago, reread my posts From Rock Bottom to Parenthood and give myself credit for what I have done, not for what I'm still trying to achieve.

Bupa have asked all the finalists to answer a few questions about themselves and one of them was what our favourite quote is. I have a lot of favourite quotes but the one I found and gave them, I thought was particularly apt:





The will to change has to come from the heart, your heart, my heart. Whoever it is that wants to make a big change in their life has to really, really want it. Like Andy Warhol is quoted above, no one can make you do it. Sure you can get all the help in the world if you can afford it, but really it is up to you, me, whoever to turn up everyday and give it our best. It takes audacity and determination and sometimes it even takes the threat of death, like when I was at Rock Bottom, to really find what it takes to make consistent lifestyle changes that stick.

Yes, there are factors in my situation that are beyond my control, or that I am actually helping myself with already (eg medication and therapy) but I believe the above three lifestyle changes could also really assist in giving me a better, more satisfying life.

All I have to do now is decide if I'm ready.


Have you made any major changes in your life recently so you can live a happier,
more satisfying existence?


V.






SUBSCRIBE NOW! Enter your email address to get the BB direct to your inbox:


Delivered by FeedBurner

Thursday, June 20, 2013

Mental health: What about the children?

What must it feel like to see your mum break down in tears for no apparent reason in the middle of a public place in a city you don't know?

What must it feel like to have your usually fun mum constantly say to you "get off me", "get away from me", "stop harassing me", "leave me alone", when all you want as a little four year old is to get closer and try to help?

I try to be conscious of my mood swings and how they might be affecting Noo, both now and the ramifications of the indelible mark they could make on him into the future. Sometimes, actually a lot of the time lately, it is too hard to control: I just burst into tears or scream for him to get off me!






The photo above seems highly narcissistic (don't all selfies?), but whatever. It is taken in a shopping centre in Melbourne where Noo and I managed to get a doctor's appointment because I could feel myself on the brink of a massive public breakdown. I had tears in my eyes as I asked the receptionist for an appointment. I took the photo to check my makeup hadn't smudged too much. Thank fuck for good quality cosmetics!

We had to wait one hour for the appointment. We killed a little time in Big W downstairs and then came back to the waiting room of the large medical centre. Noo was playing nice and quietly until another boy came by and wanted to play with him. All fine except the other little boy was quite boisterous, and despite me asking both kids to quieten down the other kid continued to be rowdy in the area where sick people were waiting to be seen. It wasn't until the office manager of the surgery came out and told the boys off that they calmed down a bit.

With this whole scene unfolding my anxiety levels were rising. The mother of the other kid made absolutely no attempt to quieten her child down. Her kid was about seven years old to Noo's four and should have known better. My heart raced as I desperately looked around begging some imaginary god in my head that my name would be called so we could get the fuck out of there before I lost it completely.

Finally, it was my turn but Noo didn't want to leave the boy he was having so much fun with. I made such a display using my sternest voice and firmly announced "MOVE!" to Noo who must have seen the anger/fear/crazy in my eyes and the floodgates opened for all to see.

To cut a long story short the GP I'd never seen before called my GP in Sydney who gave permission for low dose Valium to use at extreme times. They've helped but are not a long term solution.

I want to get away from my life. Be free of responsibility, of being needed. I want someone else to make decisions for me.

The swings have become quite cyclic. Every day begins with me waking up from a night of bad dreams that linger. I feel anxious yet tired. I'm still drinking coffee first thing in the morning yet I'm starting to wonder if I should cut back to help with my jittery soul. By the afternoon, I'm so low and start crying at the smallest of triggers and then by evening I can be up again but oh so sleepy by 11pm.

Today I couldn't get out of bed until 12.30pm. I'd risen earlier to do the usual trip to the loo, coffee, breakfast and then I read Mumabulous' post here and did a massive word vomit all over her comments section. After that I had to just walk away from the computer, lay down and sleep. Mum played with Noo who pretended to be Mala because he was worried Nanna was missing her other grandchild.

We are still in Melbourne and I'm really starting to wish it was time to come home. I crave familiar surroundings. It has been six weeks since the first really noticeable cracks in my psyche appeared. Six weeks of ups, downs and sideways are taking their toll on me. Changing my meds around has really fucked me up as well. I really don't know whether I'm here or there, Arthur or Martha, up or down... Can someone pass me the cliches please?

I've also lost interest in so much; I'm numb. A classic depression symptom is having little interest in the things that usually would stimulate you. I don't give a shit about anything and then I get so worked up about the most minute of issues. For the first time in well over a year I don't even give a shit about this blog. This place of my creation that I loved so much. What the fuck is wrong with me? What am I going to do?

Mum asked me this morning if I thought I should go back into hospital for a little while for a "rest". That way my psychiatrist could monitor me more closely and we could sort out this medication issue. But do I really want to go back there? It can be so draining being with other psych patients day and night. (FYI, I'm not dissing in patient peeps, but you know what I mean! I'm surprised my numbers are not down to zero on this blog!) On one hand the in patient support is great and you don't feel alone but sometimes it can drag you down further. Sitting around talking about what our diagnoses are and what meds we're on is fucking boring. And depressing.

My sister asked me yesterday if they should start looking for a back up nanny for Mala on the days I have her. I was feeling better at the time of that conversation and said no, I'll be fine, I love looking after Moo. Today I'm not so sure.

How will Noo feel about me being in hospital? His Nan and Pa will of course take good care of him but he'll miss me and I'll miss him. Would being in hospital even help?

I wish I could go to a health retreat in a beautiful location where they wean you off all your meds (including sugar and technology), and then nurse you back to health with long baths, massages and delicious wholesome food and exercise (with hot instructors of course)!

But mostly I just wish this awful mental health episode was over and I could go back to being the fun, loving mum I've always been.

V.













Friday, May 24, 2013

My favourite photo is breaking my heart

Day 17, Friday: A favorite photo of yourself and why

The prompt for day 17 of #blogeverydayinmay (I know it is actually the 24th but on Vanessa time it is the 17th) is to post my favourite photo of myself. My favourite photo of all time is the one of me holding Noo just after he was born. I've already published it several times on this blog but what the hell, here it is again.


Noo's birthday


You can read about the day Noo was born in more detail here. On this day my life changed. In this moment I wasn't thinking about what kind of baby he would be or what kind of parent I would be. I hadn't even thought about parenting styles let alone did any research into it. I just figured mothering would come naturally.

What came naturally was the love I felt for my son. So pure and simple. But parenting? This gig sucks sometimes. Sometimes I think I'm doing an awesome job and others, like now, I feel like the worst mother in the world.

I've mentioned quite a few times on my blog and on social media that I've been brought to tears a lot lately. I'm crying right now as I type this. An emotion so strong overwhelms me. Sometimes I think it is my anxiety but as the days turn into weeks I feel like I'm dipping back into depression. I'm not quite sure how this could be.

I keep telling myself that it's my meds. Maybe after four years of taking citalopram my body has built a tolerance up. Or maybe my iron levels have dropped again. I had chronic iron deficient anaemia until this time last year when I finally got an iron infusion. Or maybe my thyroid has gone crazy again (I had postpartum thyroid disease so there's a chance my thyroid could go nuts again).

Surely there has to be a rational explanation for all these tears!

Now back to the photo. The trigger for my tears over the last month has been Noo. He's changing before my eyes. He's back chatting, refusing to do as he is asked, hitting me, so angry with me. It breaks my heart because I don't know what to do.

I am turning into the parent I don't want to be: screaming, distant and inconsistent. But my usual methods of parenting are not working. Nothing is getting through.

I made the decision quite early on after Noo was born to do 'attachment parenting'. This style of parenting fit in with my values. I could never let him cry himself to sleep. We co-shared our bed until he was three. I have always tried to discuss any behaviour problems directly with him rather than doing timeouts. So far it has worked.

Noo and I have always been as much mates as we are mother and son. I guess not having a dad around has made this a really natural way for our relationship to evolve. I've always loved his company. Yes there have been bad phases before now. This time last year I was at my wits end with severe RLS, anxiety, low mood, headaches and concentration issues thanks to the anaemia. I even briefly put him in for an extra day at daycare a week because I just wasn't handling him.

The situation last year was a lot like it is at the moment except Noo is older. He has more words and has become more physical. He sometimes looks at me with these angry eyes and angry mouth, his little hands clenched in balls and I just don't know who he is any more.

Why do I make him so furious?

I look after my niece two days a week. On Mondays Noo goes to daycare and I look after Mala. Is that what makes him cross?

On Tuesdays I have both children. Noo loves his cousin but is always trying to pick her up or bop her on the head or trip her over. I am constantly telling Noo to leave her alone. Stop touching her! She's only a baby! Does that make him cross at me?

Is he craving a dad and doesn't know how to articulate it? Is he angry he doesn't have one? Is it a testosterone surge that has him needing to do male things? Is he sick of hanging around women all the time? He doesn't behave badly with his grandmother or aunty...

Why aren't I handling this situation? Why do I fear my four year old child?

Does Noo pick up that I am not feeling well and so he behaves badly as some sort of defense mechanism? Is he angry that I'm crying. A mother should be strong, right?

I know last year after I had the iron infusion and my restless leg syndrome was cured and my mood stabilised Noo's behaviour improved incredibly.

But what if my mood now is low because of his behaviour, not the other way around? Chicken and egg... which came first? Noo's bad behaviour or my bad mood?

Fucking hell. I hate this. I just want my baby boy back. My heart is breaking for him. Fuck knows what his teen years will be like, for the both of us.

I know I broke my parent's hearts more times than I care to count. I know that it is a certainty that Noo will one day say he hates me and lash out at me because of something I wouldn't let him do or have or whatever.

But why now?

Isn't it too soon for kids to hold grudges against their parents?


V.





Don't miss a single babble! Enter your email address (your deets are safe with me):


Delivered by FeedBurner





Monday, April 1, 2013

So what! I take antidepressants

Good morning!

If it is indeed morning where you are reading this right now. I'm just sitting here doing my morning thing, trying to think of something to blog about and I thought why not tell you about my morning routine.

My morning pretty much starts the same way every day. My four year old, who sleeps below me, wakes me up with "what are we going to do today?". We chat about what is planned and what the possibilities are for the day ahead.

Next, I climb down from my loft bed, go to the loo and head straight for the kitchen. Pretty normal stuff really. Kettle goes on, coffee gets spooned into the plunger, porridge gets made and I throw back a handful of tablets of various sizes, colours and shapes with a big slug of water. Ok, so that is the bit that is probably different from a lot of you out there.

I have been taking medication for my mood since mid 2007 when I first started skidding towards Rock Bottom. That's almost six years of popping various pills into my system in order to keep me from being depressed. This is my normal.

After trying many different types of antidepressants over the years I have finally settled into one that suits me and has been effective in keeping my mood as stable as pharmaceuticals can. Yeah, I still have ups and downs, as any regular readers would know. But those ups and downs are nowhere near as extreme as they were before I took my pills.

People often ask when I might consider getting off my meds. My answer is always the same: never. I have accepted that I will need to take brain chemistry altering substances for the rest of my life in order to maintain my current state of well being.

I take 40mg of Citalopram (antidepressant for depression and anxiety), 36mg of Concerta (psycho stimulant for mood and ADHD), 20mg of Pariet (for reflux) and two Super Krill oil tablets which are suppose to help with depression, anxiety and ADHD.


Please no stigma


Unfortunately a lot of people think that taking pills for my mind is bad. I don't understand what the problem is. Do they think I must be a crazy person, likely to do something weird or erratic if I forgot to take my pills? Or that I should just get over myself, toughen up and deal with life without the help of psychiatric medication?

There is still so much social stigma associated with taking antidepressants and of course with mental health in general. I've talked to a lot of people who feel shame about taking antidepressants. They do all they can to go off them or avoid taking them in the first place. Stigma sucks because it causes too many people out there to suffer unnecessarily. Some people might even avoid getting help at all because they don't want to appear weak or be judged badly by their friends, family or at work. In my opinion it is stigma that is crazy not the person seeking help.

I was so stoked when mental health issues were bought back in the spotlight with the movie Silver Linings Playbook. Jennifer Lawrence plays a widow who suffers depression after her husband is killed and who falls for a guy who is living with bipolar disorder. Jennifer's wonderful performance won her the Oscar for Best Actress. After accepting her award she was asked how the film might help the people with mental illness. Her reply was golden:

"I don't think we're going to stop until we get rid of the stigma for mental illness. I know David [the director] won't. And I hope that this helps. It's so bizarre how in this world, if you have asthma, you take asthma medicine; if you have diabetes, you take diabetes medicine; but as soon as you have to take medication for your mind, there's such a stigma behind it." - Jennifer Lawrence

It is bizarre!

I've attended three blogging conferences over the last 12 months and at each we were asked to think about what goals we have for our blogs. At the Digital Parents Conference I was able to cement at least one of my goals for babblingbandit.me: By writing about my personal issues with mental health I hope I can help, even just one teeny tiny bit, to break down the stigma of depression, anxiety and ADHD.

I am not ashamed of taking psychiatric drugs every day. But I do feel shame that our society still stigmatises people who do.


What do you think about the stigma of antidepressants and mental health?


V.




If you are having trouble with mental health issues the following links may be helpful
Life Line
Beyond Blue
SANE Australia
Black Dog Institute

These sites are great for younger people
itsallright.org
Headspace

If you have a friend who you think might be in trouble
Reachout.com