Showing posts with label mental illness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mental illness. Show all posts

Sunday, March 30, 2014

Face the fear and blog anyway

Last week, for the first time since I started my blog, I felt I needed to defend my need to write and publish my story as if my life depended on it - like my blog's existence depended on it.

Someone important in my son's life felt I was compromising Noo's (as my son will now be referred to) anonymity by publishing photos of him here. It was interesting timing for this comment as I'd just written about my fear of such a challenge.

When the words were first uttered I was completely taken aback. Not even my parents had said anything so bluntly even though I know they have their own concerns about this space of mine. I was devastated but I was forced to really think about, and write down, why I risk my own privacy as well as my five year old's.

The two days that followed were surprisingly overwrought with emotion: fear, sadness, exasperation, indignation, anger. The crazy thing is, my passion for blogging has waned this year. I've wondered if I really am comfortable having all this shit on here for anyone to read. And I've been bored by my own voice and have avoided listening to it through this medium.

So why did I react the way I did?

I realise now just how sensitive I still am about my past. How desperately I still feel the need to defend it - to myself and to others. The things that have happened to me still have such an overwhelming amount of control over me. But if I shut the past out, lock it up and ignore it, I feel like I'm giving in to it. Like it will turn into the skeleton in the family closet. A dirty little secret.

I also realised how proud I am of a lot of my writing here. Before I started this blog I had no confidence in my writing ability. I'd only ever written corporate correspondence and emails home while travelling. Through writing here I found something that I love doing. I found an activity that has kept my mind going and my computer skills current while I've been off work for the last six years. There's no way I could just throw it all away based on one person's opinion.


This is my space


So defend my blog I did.

Here is an edited excerpt from the email I wrote:

Why I won't delete photos of my son off my blog (until of course he personally asks me to) 
I’m not ashamed of my past or current struggles.
The aim of my blog is to help kill the stigma of mental illness, addiction in recovery and of being a victim of rape. I will not hide from these facts about my life. Hiding implies guilt which implies blame.
My son will be told what I've blogged about as soon as he asks or is old enough to know. He already knows about babblingbandit.me and he knows I don’t drink because it makes me go silly. When he gets bigger I will tell him of the alcoholism and depression that has plagued many members of his family.
When you google my son's name no pictures of him are found and no links to my blog are returned in the search results. However, I have completed a ‘find and replace’ to remove all instances of my son's name throughout the blog.
Please don't get overwhelmed by the “From Rock Bottom to Parenthood” story. Yes, it is graphic and confronting. But it is MY past. I own it and will not be shamed by it. And my blog is so much more than that series of posts.

Some of my favourite posts I’d like to draw your attention to:

When is the right time for kids to try alcohol?
In this post I discuss my belief, backed up by research, that children should not be encouraged to drink alcohol before the age of 18, despite many parents in our society thinking that allowing younger kids to drink at home is the way to avoid binge drinkers later in life.
Managing mental illness: Self-care
In this post I talk about my experience with mental illness and tips on how to manage it. You can see from the comments on this post that many people found it extremely helpful. I have had so many people from all different walks of life either email me or comment on my blog thanking me for my raw honesty.
Sole parenting: Mums raising boys without dad around
I discuss my fears of raising Ned without his father. I then go on to say why I believe I made the right decision nearly six years ago to not have any contact with his father, as well as delve into some referenced research as to why parenting is “not anchored in gender” and that it is possible to raise a happy and healthy boy without a dad in the picture.
The BB top 10 benefits to living sober
babblingbandit.me’s most popular blog post is The BB top 10 benefits to living sober. In this post I write a list of reasons why sobriety is awesome. I was sponsored by FebFast to write the post to inspire those taking a break from alcohol. It has been shared widely around the web.
My blog attracts approximately 900 unique views a month. In the grand scheme of things it is a tiny blog. I do however occasionally publish sponsored posts and have advertising on my blog which generate a little bit of spending money for me.
I am proud of my blog. I am proud of how far I have come as a person and as a parent. I am sure as Noo grows up he will be very proud of me as well. Everything I do, I do it for Noo. If he should get to an age where he is ready to learn about where he comes from and is unhappy with the story being online, I will remove it. But how he was conceived has nothing to do with who he is as a person and I will always reassure him of that.
I am raising my son to be a confident, happy child. I will advise him to stand up for who he is and be proud of it. I hope I will arm him with the confidence to deal with bullies should that become a problem in the future...


My email had the effect I wanted it to. Even though the whole experience was emotionally difficult, I faced my fear and won.

Now all I have to do now is get on with it and blog!


What do you think about bloggers using their kids' photos online and telling stories about them before they are old enough to consent?


V.




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Monday, March 17, 2014

Writing as therapy: Fear and judgement

I have writer's block. Again. This block is a big one with the label "FEAR" etched across it. And so I find myself again blogging about my fear of blogging.

Makes for boring reading, no?

It's not like I don't have anything to say. I've got a list of blog titles and even folders of photos to accompany some of them, but actually sitting here and writing it up seems like such a chore.

I don't think I'm consciously worried about stats. In fact my unique monthly hits are higher than they ever have been, despite my slow blogging. And I'm pretty sure there's not too many of you (if any) out there hanging out for my next post. But I still feel that I should  be getting my words out ("Use your words, Vanessa"). For me. For my son. Maybe. I don't know why.

I'm going through a really blah period of my life. I have no real passion for anything. Of course, my five year old is everything to me, and my love and excitement for Noo will never cease. But the rest of life? Blah.

Boredom makes me hyper-aware of all that ails me - my knee which needs surgery later this year, my coccyx which is arthritic and worn thanks to that fateful night way back in 2007, constant constipation thanks to psych medication that I just can't survive without, headaches, anxiety about money, weight woes, loneliness...

Truth be told, I probably have too much time on my hands. I know what I want/need to do but as always fear holds me back.

Once again I fear the possible repercussions of my writing. Someone dear to me (who shall remain nameless) said by putting our (and by "our" I mean bloggers, Twitterers, Facebookers, celebrities, anyone on social media or in the public eye) life online we open ourselves up and invite criticism and judgement. That basically if you get bullied for what you've disclosed online, you kind of deserve it, because if you didn't expose yourself to the world you wouldn't have gotten bullied in the first place.

Personally, I call bullshit. Because it's kind of the same as saying if I didn't go out on Friday 17 April 2007 and get drunk, then I wouldn't have been raped. This theory places the responsibility and blame for the crime on me, the victim, rather than on he/she  the rapist/bully.

I have never been trolled online which I'm so grateful for. I've read what some people say about some bloggers and it fills me with dread that anyone could possibly dissect my life like that. But I don't think those trolls or forums which facilitate them should be banned. I regard freedom of speech as one of the most important values in our society. Banning such sites would do more harm than good as a whole. But, what I don't understand, is how anyone could even think of those things to say about people, let alone publish them publicly in order to ridicule them.

A lot of what I've published here has taken a huge amount of courage and a massive chunk of my heart and soul has gone into putting the words together. I told the story about my past problems with drugs and alcohol, about being raped, about my endless struggles with mental illness because I want to help people. I want others who may be in a similar situation know they are not alone.

But I'm not just fearful of what I blog about, I'm scared about what people in the real world might say/think about me if they got to know me. I avoid social situations. I fear the question "So, what do you do?".

I don't know what the fuck I do. I survive each day. Is that not enough?

I stand by my belief that the only way to kill stigma is to talk about the things that some sections of society try to shame us about. For some reason I feel I need to reaffirm this belief to myself, and to you, so I can keep writing. Hiding in the shadows is only going to feed the fear. Standing up and declaring who I am and owning it should surely make me stronger.

So here I am:

Hello my name is Vanessa and

    I am a recovering alcoholic and drug addict

      I suffer from have PTSD, Generalised Anxiety Disorder, Major Depressive Disorder and ADHD

        I take various psychiatric medications

            I have a lap-band and weigh about 92 kg

               I have been a victim of violent crime on three separate occasions in my life

                     I'm a single parent

                          I don't have a job


Fear and judgement can kiss my arse


I'm sick of living a fearful life.

The truth of it is, the only troll in my life is me. I am my own worst enemy and most critical judge.

Build a bridge, Vanessa, and get over it. Fear can kiss your arse!


V.










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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.






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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.






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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.




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Saturday, October 5, 2013

The power of hair

On the weekend I wrote about my three favourite ways to distract myself from my depression. There's actually a fourth way I like to shake things up when life feels really shit. This method of depression distraction is so radical at times that I felt it deserved its own post.

As a method of depression distraction, getting a new hairstyle can be a little high risk. Fuck it up and it could make you feel worse. Get it right and, I personally believe, it could be just the ticket to lifting the spirit. Even just a little bit.

Mood reviving isn't the only good reason to get a change in hairstyle. I, for one, have used the ol' cut 'n' colour for a number of different reasons. Here they are:


Making a statement against authority


There have been a number of times when I've made major changes to my barnet in order to make a rebellious statement to the world. But mostly it has been to piss off my parents or to give a big "fuck you" to the private girls' school, and their strict uniform rules, that I attended.

The photos below look pretty tame, but what you can't see under the top layer of hair in many of the pictures is a shaved undercut. These days kids get away with all sorts of  hairdos at school but things were different back in the 80s and 90s. We had to wear our hair tied back with a regulation 2.5cm navy blue ribbon if the length of our hair was below the collar of our uniform.

I wrote a post about my past embarrassing hairstyles back in May. For those of you who were lucky enough to miss the shocking photo evidence here it is! I'd hate to deprive you of a laugh at my expense!


The school years: Never been one to shy away from a pair of clippers, scissors or a bottle of hair dye!


The I can't be bothered with my hair phase


I also go through phases where I just cannot be bothered with my hair and I let it grow really long, don't bother getting it coloured (my natural colour is mousy blonde-brown) and just pull it back in a messy bun or a braid. It's that pulling back in hair elastics that I thought was contributing to my headaches (more on that later). I tried getting it chemically straightened thinking it would make for an easy to manage style but the straightening effect didn't last long at all.


My long natural coloured hair 


The everybody else is doing it so I am too phase


Pink, purple, orange, blue, green, yellow - any colour you can think of really. Permanent colour, semi permanent, hair chalk! Crazy hair colours have been all the rage for quite a while now. Earlier this year I decided I wanted to go pink!


Clockwise from top left: The photo I showed the hairdresser to illustrate how I wanted my hair done;
how my hair actually turned out; big smiles as the dye goes on; worried look as reality hits; posing for the hairdresser;
Bubblegum Princess from Adventure Time; a forced smile at home as I realise I look a bit like a cartoon character.


Argh! I just lost a whole stack of work I'd done on this post when Blogger showed an error message and I stupidly closed the browser without doing a copy/paste of what I'd already written into Word. The paragraph lost was basically about how upset I was at spending 5.5 hours and nearly $400 at a hair salon recommended by the biggest hair blogger in Australia only to walk out of the place with a completely different 'do than the one in the picture that I showed the stylist.

The pink did fade. I washed my hair nine times in three days desperately scrubbing out the dye that was going everywhere: on my pillowcase, clothes, towels. And when it actually got to a colour that I liked that only lasted a couple of weeks, but it never looked like the style I asked for.


Getting back to 'normal' phase


After a while the ends, that had been bleached to create that balayage effect, became so straw like that I had to get them cut off. I ended up going to a different hairdresser to get the good old half head of foils in order to restore any semblance of a decent hairdo.



From pink to blonde


Let's go crazy!


My most recent hairstyle change is probably the most crazy. Ever. From long blonde highlighted hair to short white hair with a few greeny blue streaks chucked in for good measure I sure have made a statement this time. Like I said earlier, I've never been scared to make radical changes to my hair. In fact I get a bit of a buzz (no pun intended - ok maybe a little) out of it.


Hair today, gone tomorrow



There's more to the change in style than trying to cultivate a new look. I have been having headaches that start around my scalp and shoot down through my head nearly every day for the past two or three years. I wrote about these headaches recently when I listed all the symptoms that have landed me here back in hospital. I also talked about my headaches when they seemed to disappear after I went 40 days without eating any sugar.

The pain always gave me this overwhelming desire to shave my head. As if my long, thick and heavy hair was to blame for the pain that's had me popping painkillers like lollies for years. Whether I had my hair back in a hair elastic or out falling down my back, my scalp still ached. Then last week, when I was readmitted to this psych hospital I've now been an inpatient at four times over the last five years, I decided: fuck it! The hair is going.

Have I been cured of my headaches? No. They are still there, messing with me physically and psychologically.

Do I feel refreshed from having a completely new look? Yes. I love that I have an actually 'style'. That I don't just wake up in the morning, throw my head forward, gather up my masses of hair and scrunch it into a hair-band. I love washing my locks everyday. Oh, the freshness of it all!

The moral of the story? Hair is fun, can make a statement, but cutting it all off won't necessarily cure you of chronic headaches.

Maybe I need to start thinking about cutting back on sugar again. Bugger.


Are you a person who likes to change hairstyles with your mood or
do you stick to the same trusty hairdo year after year?



V.





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Sunday, September 29, 2013

Three ace ways to distract yourself from depression

If you haven't noticed on my blog or on any of the other online places I haunt, I've been going through a pretty shit time. In medical terms I'm currently suffering from major depression combined with a shitload of adverse side effects from the medications I've been prescribed. Woohoo!

My life has been like clenching onto the side of a cliff with white knuckled determination not to fall into the abyss. It's been fucking hard work, and my hands are cracked and bleeding, but there's way too much good shit on top of that mountain. So much to fight for. Everything to live for.

I'm in hospital right now. At this moment I'm feeling ok but there have been moments in the last week where I've cried so much I've been almost inconsolable.

"Why are you so upset?" the well meaning psych nurses ask.

"Is there something your [doctor, family, group therapist] said to trigger you?" they want to know.

"You're not going to hurt yourself, are you? You are feeling safe... right?"

Yes! I'm safe from harm. This much I know is true.

But no! Nothing has triggered the flood of tears. I'm just fucking crying! I want to scream it at the world. I just don't know why I'm crying. The tears come out of my eyes as my heart is squeezed by the black hands of an unnamed doom.

The brain is a wondrous yet ill understood organ. My doctors don't know what's wrong with mine. They can't give me a neat little diagnosis. They don't know what pills to put me on so it feels like they are giving them all a go. One drug at a time, sometimes two.

Over these almost five months since the Black Dog came to take residence in my soul I've found a few cool ways to distract myself from his howling. I thought I'd share them with you. Don't tease me because I've been partaking in a fair bit of low brow entertainment. It's just for cheap laughs!


Big Brother


I love this show! (picture source)
OMG! I love this show. I've watched every episode from day one and I can't get enough. Weekends are hell because the show doesn't air on Saturday and Sunday!

Watching these Gen-Ys bitch and moan and scheme and backstab each other is so much fun! I feel so involved in their lives. I've cried at times while watching BB. I usually never cry at TV shows or movies! And how hot are Ed and Drew? OMG! Such eye candy. Some of the girls are pretty hot too.

Even Noo has got into it. Although he doesn't really understand what's going on. Noo just likes the characters that are nice to people. Noo's favourite is Drew and my favourites are Tim and Ben. Tim and Ben are not boring pretty boys there to be ogled - they actually have really interesting personalities and don't feel the need to conform in order to fit in. I like that. Tim is a bit of a schemer and you could say he has a bit of a nasty side, but at least he tries to stir things up in the house. Makes for much better entertainment for us watching at home.

I know the show is quite mindless but such a great distraction from the guilt and negativity whirling around in my head. It really is a worthwhile escape. I miss them all like mad on the weekends. Seriously. Noo says after the 6pm news every day "It's nearly Big Brother time!" and is devo'ed when I have to break it to him that it's Saturday so no BB.

Goodness knows what we will do when the whole season is over. Noo and I wish we could go to the final eviction. Won't happen. Maybe next year!


Candy Crush Saga


So addictive! (picture source)
Talk about addictive! For a long time I saw Facebook requests from friends asking me for 'lives' or publishing notifications of how they'd cracked another level. I saw status updates from friends expressing their frustration at not being able to pass up to the next 'episode'.

I resisted for as long as I could. Knowing my addictive nature I thought CCS could have the potential to take over my life. I've not been that wrong!

It was actually my Shrink who said I should play CCS as a way to distract myself from negative self-talk. It definitely works but crushing those bloody candies can also distract you from other things like - blogging, household chores, sleep....


Cat memes on Pinterest


Even when I'm feeling 100% shit just having a scroll through Pinterest cat memes can crack me up. This sort of thing would usually not make me laugh but for some reason these days cats make me LOL!

You can't tell me these aren't funny....


Hilarious... right?



So what do you think about my depression distraction methods? Funny ha ha or funny it's a good idea you're in the crazy house again Vanessa?


How do you cheer yourself up when you're feeling blue?



V.


Disclaimer: Clearly I am no doctor! I have had no training in the treatment of people with mental illness. This is just a post about what helps me sometimes forget my woes. I make no promises that anything I have said above will help anyone. In fact it could hurt you. For all I know you may be allergic to cats. 




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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.





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Wednesday, September 11, 2013

I haven't really been OK since 10 May 2013. What about you? RUOK?

Trigger alert. For crisis support click here.

Yesterday marked four months since my first anxiety induced crying attack. Since then I've been on an emotional rollercoaster with way too many ups and downs at a speed even I didn't think I was capable of.

Tomorrow is the annual suicide awareness/prevention event known as RUOK? Day where people are encouraged to asked friends, family, colleagues, anyone if they are ok.

Last year I wrote about a time in my life when I was really not ok. Last year, as I typed up those words, I never thought I'd feel that kind of not ok again.

But here I am. Twelve months later and I have dipped back into that place. Well, I go in and out of the black hole. It's hard to explain.

I guess the difference between this depression and my 2007 depression is that now there's hope. Being a parent is what keeps me fighting. I'm also way more knowledgeable about depression and anxiety than I was back then. Six years of constant therapy has made sure of that. I know both those bitches lie. They make me feel and think things that aren't true and as convincing as they might be, it's hope (Noo) that keeps me from believing them.

Knowing the signs of when my mood started to change also allowed me to get help sooner. And I guess the spontaneous bursts of tears made it pretty bloody obvious something was not ok.

Having an excellent support network of family, friends and medical professionals is also critical. Just showing up to my psych appointments keeps me accountable. Like seeing a personal trainer for my emotions. Even if I don't work really hard during a session at least I'm there.

I know RUOK? Day has been getting a lot of flack because we should ask our friends, family, colleagues, anyone if they are ok every day of the year if the signs are looking like they are not. But I think RUOK? Day isn't about one day of the year, it's about general awareness of mental illness. It's about getting those crisis support numbers out in the media, and on posters in workplaces and schools, where maybe just one person notices them for the first time and thinks, hey, I could actually use a bit of help.

I really don't think people involved with this initiative will just switch off once the sun sets and the day is over. The conversation has been started and that's gotta be something. It sure beats silence. The more we talk about mental illness the more we will hopefully remove the stigma attached to it giving more people the courage to come out and seek help. And yeah, maybe even save a life.

Whether you've got a lifetime's history of mental illness like me, or you're having a really bad time for the first time, I think RUOK? Day has it's place.

I think we all like to feel supported on any day of the year.

So don't forget to ask: RU OK?

V.

For help please use these helpful resources:

Call: 1800 RUOKDAY (1800 7865 329) to connect with crisis line

Visit: your doctor, a counsellor or trusted healthcare professional

Access: ruokday.com for tips from their information partners

Lifeline 13 11 14

Suicide Call Back Service 1300 659 467





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Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Busy bodies/healthy minds

It's been about two and a half weeks since I discharged myself from the psychiatric hospital where I was in being treated for depression. I thought I'd give you an update of how I am feeling and how Noo and I are getting on with our new regime. Writing it down helps me to consolidate and understand my feelings as well.

I am definitely a hell of a lot better than I was before going into hospital. The proof is in the fact that I'm not crying every day any more. Sometimes I can feel emotional tears start to well at the back of my eyes but they mostly quickly subside. I've been using mindfulness techniques to ground myself back into the moment rather than letting my mind go off in emotional tangents that just look for evidence of reasons to cry... if that makes any sense. I'm getting better at reigning those emotions in but they are still there.

Noo and I have been keeping super busy. In two and a half weeks we have been to Sydney Tower, Madam Tussauds, Wildlife Sydney, Manly Sea Life Sanctuary, the Powerhouse Museum, Darling Quarter Playground, and the Museum of Contemporary Art. The weather has been gorgeous which helps both my mood and my willingness to go outdoors.




Before I went into hospital I was so anxious about going out with Noo that the thought of it filled me with dread. I felt completely out of control of myself and of him. I wrote about my fear and sadness in late May which I just reread and it made me cry all over again. That post reminds me how lonely sole parenting can be, especially when I'm unwell.

I was so petrified I was going to breakdown in public in front of Noo. I felt so incredibly anxious all the time. I actually didn't realise just how anxious I was and how constant it was. It's like when you've had the radio on for ages and it's just off the station. The static becomes white noise because you've become so used to it. That is until someone moves the dial to the correct frequency and you can't believe the clarity of the sound. That's how I've felt for four months. Constantly off frequency with spurts of static so unbearable that I just want to throw the damn radio out the window.

But now, finally, Noo and I are back to being a partnership. Well, a partnership where one partner is more senior than the other, but a team of two nonetheless. The static is still there but it only comes in and out quietly, like my emotional aerial is blowing in the breeze and sometimes goes off station for a moment or two.

There's still a lot of work to do for my wellness and, of course, parenting is a job that never ends. I just have to be as strong and vigilant as I can to ensure I stay on top of my therapy and I keep up with our new routines in order to maintain a healthy, happy home for the both of us.



How are you feeling today?



V.





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Thursday, August 29, 2013

Recipe: Pressure cooker lamb ragu

Since getting out of hospital I've started cooking again. Part of my depression recovery plan is to make sure Noo and I eat better. We all know it's critical for good mental and physical health whether you're a late 30s mum or an almost five year old boy. Hell, we all need good food and exercise.

So far we've had chicken sticks, spagbol, tuna rice and veggie patties, and cottage pie served with salad. Tonight Noo and I made ham and pineapple pizza together which was delicious. But the recipe I wanted to share with you now is for a dish I made a little while ago while we were up the Mountains, before I went to hospital. I took all the photos as I was cooking but somehow life got in the way of me publishing the recipe.

Earlier on this year I was the lucky winner of a Tefal Cook4Me pressure cooker. I entered a competition on Kate Says Stuff and was so stoked when I was notified by Kate that I'd won. The massive box arrived soon after and both my parents and I were amazed at its size. Where the hell would we fit this appliance into our already stuffed apartment?

The obvious solution was to send the Cook4Me up to my parents house in the Blue Mountains. We have a bit more space there and it is the perfect place to cook and eat hearty food like lamb ragu.

I must admit I had doubts about the appliance. Why? It looked too good to be true. I recently bought a slow cooker and I didn't like it at all and actually gave it away to Noo's day care. The Cook4Me however is awesome. So good I'm thinking we've got to get it back to town so I can use it more often!

I got the recipe from my favourite recipe website Taste.com.au but I adjusted it for the pressure cooker. The original recipe can be found here.

Without further ado - my first go of the Tefal Cook4Me...


Cook4Me Lamb Ragu


Ingredients

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 kg half leg of lamb
1 large brown onion, finely chopped
2 garlic cloves, crushed
About a 10 cm chunk of bacon speck cubed
2 medium carrots, peeled and cut into 1cm pieces
2 sticks of celery, cut into 1cm pieces
1/2 cup fresh herbs (rosemary, thyme, sage, parsley - whatever you've got)
1/2 cup red wine
2 tablespoons tomato paste
2 x 400 g cans diced tomatoes
2 cups chicken stock

Pasta of your choice
Parmesan cheese to serve


Method

1. Prepare

I like to take out all the ingredients I need and prepare the veggies, herbs and meat so everthing is laid out ready to go. I didn't read the recipe correctly and so cut my lamb into large chunks rather than cooking the 1 kg half leg as a single piece, as you can see in the picture below. I highly recommend not doing what I did because you don't get that really tender melt in your mouth thing happening with the meat if you do.

Also have the Cook4Me out and ready to go.





2. The Browning

Add the olive oil to the bowl of the Cook4Me. Using the manual setting, brown the lamb using the 'browning' function on the Cook4Me for a couple of minutes on each side. You can set the timer on the machine but I just went freestyle and used my noggin to determine when the meat was browned.

Remove meat from cooker and set aside.


3. Sauteing

With the Cook4Me still on 'browning' mode, add pre-prepared onion, garlic, speck, carrot, celery and herbs to the cooker. Saute, stirring occasionally, until onion has softened.




4. The Saucy Bit

Add wine and cook for 1 minute. Add tomato paste, diced tomatoes, 2 cups of chicken stock. Stir to combine.


5. Introduce the Meat to the Sauce

Return meat to the Cook4Me and stir to combine or if using a whole piece of lamb ensure meat is covered with the saucy bits.




6. Speed Cook

Batten down the hatches! Close the lid on Cook4Me following the instructions. It's really super easy compared to our old pressure cooker which is now doomed to be heading for the garbage bin, if it hasn't already been let go of it's old duties thanks to a younger, smarter worker taking its place.

Set the Cook4Me to 'quick cooking' for 20 minutes. The cooker will tingle with a bell sound when it has completed the 20 minutes and steam will shoot out its rear. It is all rather exciting! I just couldn't wait to see what the end result was inside.

If the ragu needs more cooking you just need to shut up the pressure cooker again and set it to cook for a further 10 minutes or whatever you think it requires.




7. Finishing Touches

Shred the lamb with a couple of forks. Remove any fat or bone from the ragu.

Cook whatever pasta you wish to have with your lamb ragu. Chop up fresh parsley and shave up some parmesan.


Yummy lamb ragu with pasta


There you have it! It actually took way longer to prepare all the ingredients than it did to cook the ragu. Writing this post took double the time of all of it (gosh I'm slow!).

Everyone in my family loved this recipe and even fussy eater Noo gave it the tick of approval.

I would highly recommend the Tefal Cook4Me. I'm so glad I won it! Can't wait to get back up the Mountains to try other recipes in it.


V.

PS. I was under no obligation by either Tefal or  Kate Says Stuff to write about my prize. I just felt like it. So there.






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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.






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