Archive for the ‘Journey to Wellness’ Category

The Door


The door opens                                  

You walk through
Frown on your face
You’re in a mood

The door opens

Here you are now
Judgemental first
Never asking
In tears I burst

The door opens

Talk over me
I don’t exist
Speaking louder
I still resist

The door opens

Temptation comes
To leave and go
Away I hide
Where no one knows

Closing the door

Hold myself firm
Lay on my bed
Angry bad thoughts
Go through my head

The door opens

Sickness and health
death do us part
Vows we both made
Now break my heart

Words are easy
Actions speak true
The door is closed
I’m all alone


so are you.



Blog for Mental Health 2013

I pledge my commitment to the Blog For Mental Health 2013 Project.  I will blog about mental health topics not only for myself, but for others.  By displaying this badge, I show my pride, dedication, and acceptance for mental health.  I use this to promote mental health education in the struggle to erase stigma.


Reading through the Freshly Pressed, I ran across this blog. I have a keen interest in breaking the stigma that comes with Mental Illness and bringing Mental Health issues into the open. After reading about this campaign and looking through this blog, I had to get involved. Check it out over at A Canvas of the Minds.

I live with a Mental Illness every moment of every day. I have been diagnosed with major depressive disorder accompanied by PTSD and anxiety. I wasn’t always this way. I know how it feels to be happy and experience pure joy. I remember the anticipation and excitement of the new. I wish I was capable of being as organized as I once was. I know the difference and I don’t feel those things anymore. My brain doesn’t work properly. But it use to.

It is difficult to describe as mental illness is subjective and can present in so many ways. For me it is like always having an extra fifty pounds on my back while constantly walking uphill without a plateau. It is exhausting, it is a struggle some days to move forward, it is never being able to catch my breath. My thoughts are out of sequence and my perception is messed up. For me it is the feeling of failure over and over. I can’t control my moods. I am not just an asshole. I really can not control outbursts of rage, anger or weeping sometimes. Really. The scariest part is not knowing what I said or did and being unable to connect feelings of emptiness to anything in my life. I have not been able to work in over two years. Every day life stresses send me over my edge.

But it is not just me who suffers. the worst is watching my family suffer. Knowing I am the catalyst to the looks of fear and disappointment on my children’s faces just fuels the mental illness fire and makes the disease worse. Everyone is affected by mental illness. I mean everyone. It is time to talk. To be open and honest and stop judging. To just listen and be a friend.

Check out this campaign…pass it on. Let’s open this up, show people they are not alone and being afraid of this or afraid to express is the just the fear of the unknown.

I am suppose to sponsor 5 followers to do the same – I can’t figure that part out….

I challenge EVERYONE who know me to join this campaign and sponsor 5 people that you know to do the same.

Perfectly Imperfect

the-gifts-of-imperfection-quoteI am sorry. I am so sorry. It doesn’t make up for all that I have done. It will never be enough.

I stumbled upon this today in a post I started over 2 months ago. It had the above apology and nothing else. No notes, no title, no images. Here is what it is about:

I feel tremendous guilt for so many things in my life. Some rightly so but most, not so much. I have made mistakes. I have been a terrible friend. I have been an unloving wife. I have been a bitch. I have been way to drunk and said and did things I truly regret. I have been a thief. I have betrayed trust. I have manipulated. I have cheated. I have denied forgiveness. I  have lied, and lied and lied again and never felt bad about it. I have engaged in reckless behaviors. I have broken the law. I have broken hearts. I have been a victim of rape. I have bad habits I am not willing to break. I have a temper. I have a fat body. I have a very small head. My eyes are extremely close together. I have stabbed people in the back. I have been preoccupied …a lot. I have put myself first. I have used people. I have led people on. I have been jealous. I have been filled with rage  and envy. I have been unbecoming. I have taken on more than I can handle. I have been avoiding  the truth. I have turned the other cheek. I have addictions. I have been dis-respectful. I have been pretentious. I have Mental Illness and it is not going away.

This is me. This is some of who I am.  I am imperfect. For the first time in 38 years I am OK with it.

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I don’t have a choice…

Yeah you do.

I have heard so many comments and complaints from people lately using the words “I don’t have a choice” that I have chosen to add my two cents.

You may think I am arrogant or even ignorant with my opinion. At one time no so long ago I was also on the “no choice” bandwagon.

There is a huge difference between not having a choice because you think you don’t and really not having a choice.

A child who is orphaned did not choose to be. Being diagnosed with any illness is not a choice.

For example: I did not choose to have mental illness. I did not choose to have a breakdown or when it would happen. There were no options, alternatives or any way around these things. If I had a choice, I would choose not to have mental illness. I would have chosen to continue my life with the interruption of a disease and its symptoms. Contrary to what I have been told, I can’t just wish it away.

I do have a choice in how I deal it. Among other things I can decide to take medication the rest of my life to help manage my disease or I can choose not to and live in a world desperation and incorrect perspective. I chose to write this blog and be upfront about struggles and issues with my own mental health. I could have chosen not to.

Think about it.

We all have choices; they may not be what we think we want or what we think we need but there is always a choice.

Next time you find yourself spitting out those words, think about the people who really don’t have a choice and ponder what choices you do have. Image

Me + You = Two.

Life’s Lessons.

In my younger years, like many other twenty something’s, I thought I knew everything I needed to.  I was set. Good job that I loved, nice apartment in a great city, awesome friends, car to drive, money in my pocket, college diploma, professional designation, weekend parties and Sunday(and Monday) hangovers. It was great. Ahhhh the memories. At that time in my life I was also strongly opinionated, a bit closed minded, emotionally shut down, maybe a tad pretentious and was wearing a large chip on my shoulder. Never the less, I was on top of the world.

A colleague of mine suffered from migraines. She had to take medication, everyday, and even leave work early. If she felt an episode coming on, we had to turn off the radio, turn off all the lights and she dimmed all the computers in the office. Honestly, I thought: “For a headache; take a few ibuprofen or naproxen with a big glass of water and get over it”.  This colleague, let’s call her Jane, talked about some of her “triggers” such as chocolate, cheese, the barometric pressure, stress, lack of sleep…blah blah. I never really gave her my full attention. She went on and on about twitching and auras and sensitivities and how these migraines were diminishing her quality of life. I secretly thought she was making it up.  Seriously, how bad can a headache really be? I had no sympathy for Jane. None, not even a little. While she tended to her headache – or “migraine” as she called it, I plowed through my work and would do some of her work if there was absolutely nothing else I could do. Back then, I had no idea and didn’t even try to learn how bad her migraines really were.

That was, until I started having them myself. Oh ya, good old Karma got me again. I had had bad headaches in the past. I recall having an aura – although I didn’t realize that what it was at the time, I just thought I was going blind.

Shortly after I returned to work from my first maternity leave, we bought a new van. Looking back, a lot had happened from that Wednesday I called the dealer until the Saturday we picked it up. Wednesday night we went in and signed the papers for the van – never test drove it, never looked at it, picked the color and price and signed where needed. Thursday afternoon, my husband was rushed to the hospital by ambulance as the doctors thought the scar from the hernia repair he had done in June had opened and was strangulated, cutting off circulation to the bowel …which happens to be life threatening. Turns out, it did rip open, but was not strangulated, thank god.  We waited in the ER at the city hospital for about 9 hours before he could go home. The surgeon told us to wait by the phone and he would call us to advise when he could repair it. I would be less than a week and definitely before Christmas. The tear was still urgent and needed surgery to be fixed. Oh yeah did I mention this all went down in December about 2 weeks before Christmas??

Friday night I went solo to my work Christmas party. I was exhausted, but was not missing this event. I had just been promoted and wanted to show I was a committed employee, even after hours.

Then finally on Saturday my husband and I went to sign the final deal and pick up the van. I wasn’t feeling too great. I had no idea what the sales person said. I could not sit still. I felt very nauseous. I was not hung over – I didn’t even drink the night before. My focus was off, even when wearing my glasses. I was sweating and shivering at the same time. Noises became louder, lights became brighter. I ate a granola bar to help. I drank water, milk, apple juice, coffee. Nothing helped. By the time we got to my parents to pick up our daughter the right side of my face felt like pins and needles. I was frantically searching my purse for the medication I was taking for depression. I thought maybe I had forgotten to take it and was starting withdrawal. Dizziness set in, and then retching and vomiting so bad, so much that bile came up. My face looked like I had taken a red pen and scribbled all over it because so many capillaries had burst from the force of the vomiting. I overheard my dad say “she has buyer’s remorse”; my mom “she is just over tired”; my husband “I don’t know, maybe too much to drink last night”.

It was none of those. It was my first full-fledged body shocking, mind altering and serious migraine.  I took copious amounts of Tylenol 3, anti-nausea medication and ibuprofen. It helped me pass out for a few hours. I woke up with an absolutely horrendous skull splitting headache. It hurt me to move, even slightly. Any miniscule amount of light was blinding. The sound of the bedroom door opening felt like it was shattering my ear drums. Simply put it was fucked up.

Now, I think about Jane and how I made an assumption about how she felt. I think about her pain, reality and loneliness from her experienced from her persistent migraines. My god, I thought she was just slacking. What a wake-up call.  Like so many others, I am now the Jane in this story. I get a lot of well intentioned advice from people trying to help me with my mental illness. I also get a lot of rolled eyes, a lot of “oops sorry – we thought you would be too tied to come” explanations, a lot of blank staring and most heart breaking so much misunderstanding.

I could never know exactly how Jane felt. I am not her. Now, I empathize with her. I understand her perspective and I have done a lot of reading about migraines. People, even those closest to my heart, will never know exactly how living mental illness has changed my life. Or how it feels to intellectually understand and comprehend what I should feel or why I should not be afraid of the dark, or that I am not the voices in the mind, or how mental illness is a definition, not a sentence. I know I am not a victim anymore, I am a survivor. Emotionally, my brain doesn’t get it. Emotionally my brain is broken. Emotionally I am on a roller coaster. My emotional brain does not connect with my intellectual brain. After trying to fix this on my own and with patchwork for more than half of my life, both sides finally snapped and inevitably led to my 2010 meltdown.

I need medication – a few medications – every single day to remain level. As my body changes, the medication needs adjusting and tweaking every few months. The drugs are not a quick fix. They take a while to work, and there is no magic pill or cocktail to take. The medication is not a cure. The drugs are not something to be afraid of. The drugs saved my life and saved me from myself. It is not perfect. It is better than not being on them. I still cry. I can still create. I can still laugh. I still feel. I feel like my normal, at least some of the time.  Drugs were not enough for me. I also have been participating in a few other forms of treatment and therapy. Keep watching the blog; more to come on those.

For now, my message is simple. Mental Illness is personal. It manifests, presents and affects each and every person who has it differently. Why? The universe did not make any two persons the same. Every single one of us on this globe has experienced life personally and differently. Because you are you and I am me.

My sister summed this up last week to me in an e-mail:

When you don’t have mental illness, you don’t get it so I need to tell you that I won’t try to get it.  It’s very frustrating as a loved one to see you as a victim.  I’m hopeful for you:)” – Sarah Payne – used by permission.

If you are concerned for someone who has a mental illness, or if a loved one of yours suffers and you do not know how to help them. Know this: you cannot fix them. You cannot change them. What you can do is educate yourself. Get the help of a professional. Listen and be a friend – even when it gets really tough and it does. Give them a hug, and tell them you love them, without conditions. Even if the person doesn’t believe you at the time, do it anyway. Do it over and over again. I promise those are the best gifts you can give to a person suffering with mental illness.

Keep in mind, a person who is struggling with mental illness will not likely be able to provide support to you about how your life as an observer has changed. It is so hard to know someone is hurting and not be able to make it all better. Get help, talk to your doctor, therapist, best friend, someone you trust, another person you know openly dealing with mental illness, inquire about the counselling services provided by your employer or your school. Call the nearest centre for mental health listed in the phone book.

I don’t want to hear – we don’t know what to do. Or what should I do?

I cannot accept that anymore. Reach out, keep reaching and reaching until you find the right hand or hands that reach back. There is no one who can help you effectively until you admit you need help and you begin to help yourself.

Please see the resource section of my blog for information on where to go, where to read, get information and educate yourself on the realities of mental health.

Your eyes do not need to be open to see, your mind does.

My Illness

The Basics

I have no shame or embarrassment anymore about having and living with mental illness. The topic of mental health seems to be one of the last taboo’s of our society and yet the reality is more than one third of our population suffers from mental illness. Most never speak out, seek treatment or even acknowledge that something is off in their thoughts, moods and over all mental health.

I had no idea I had mental illness. Hard to believe, I know. Three medical labels, a team of emotional and mental wellness professionals and never once did I even consider the fact I suffered from mental illness. I was sent to an out- patient program called “journey to wellness”, and it was there I realized that I wasn’t just a person struggling with major depression, anxiety and PTSD; I was also a person living with Mental Illness. I actually asked the facilitator what she meant when she referred to us as having mental illness. Mental Illness is a broad umbrella term used by professionals that includes most if not all mental illness including but not limited to bi-polar disorder, schizophrenia, borderline personality disorder,  all anxiety, clinical depression, major depressive episodes and mood disorders.

At first when referring to my illness I would always either put mental illness in quotes or call myself crazy sarcastically. It really wasn’t until my youngest sister Sarah mentioned to me that when I did those things it gave the impression I was making fun of it.

She was right. Old habits die hard – especially when you don’t want them to. I didn’t want to be stigmatised, I didn’t want to be attached to the label of Mental Illness. I was ashamed, felt like a failure and weak for not being able to handle this and “just get over it” as I was told many times by many family and friends. I also knew being ignorant and not being taken seriously was not what I wanted. So I changed, and owned it.

Mental Illness does not go away. There is no cure or quick fix. Once recognized and diagnosed, a lot of mental illnesses can be managed through treatment such as medication and talk therapy. Sounds simple, but it isn’t. Even with regular treatment lapses are a real possibility and personally I have had more than a few.  I am always battling my emotions, trying to manage them or figure them out. Consider the idea of consciously trying to change your thought process and perceptions constantlyThis involves learning to change the tapes in our mind that have always been there. Self talk is something we all do but not something that can be changed overnight. It is an on-going process, day in and day out and it takes a lot of energy and focus. Even after 18 months I still need to work on this every single day.

My reality is I will re-lapse in and out of depression for the rest of my life. I deal with anxiety each day. Some days are good, and others are nothing less than torture. Sometimes I shake and shiver so intensely I can’t button my coat or even hold a glass of water. At its worst, I can’t bear to leave the house, or even my room. Sounds silly – but the feeling is overwhelming. Just thinking about it now makes me want to vomit, that is how overpowering it is. I have medication to help however it is highly addictive. I only take it when absolutely necessary. More than three days in a row and I have with drawl when I don’t keep taking it.  In the last 18 months I have had three bouts of dependency and therefore three withdrawal periods. One also included other prescribed medication and was the worst lasting just over 7 weeks. The anxiety is tied into having PTSD. I now know some triggers but they still unexpectedly present themselves to me. Random smells, sounds and sights have all sent me into unexpected and unexplained panic and cold sweats.

Revealing my story, thoughts and experiences on here will hopefully help someone. Help them know they are not alone, or help someone understand what living with mental illness is like. Check back often as I will periodically post snippets of my life and journey.

If you think you might be suffering – please get help. Please check my resource page for information on how to get started in your journey to wellness.


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