Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
People
I've appreciated getting e-mails and facebook messages from readers, thank you. It's taken a lot of courage to be so open about my struggles. The response has been for the most part VERY positive. I'm glad that there are people learning from my experiences and advice. That's the whole reason I started this here blog. So with that said...
People. Whether they're our spouses, children, co-workers, brothers, sisters, mom, dad, neighbors, friends, cousins, roommates, hairdressers, bosses. These are the people we joke around with, hang out with, go to dinner with, work with, gossip on the phone with and live with. These are the people that shape us and make us who we are.
Recently I was e-mailed by two readers of this blog a similar and very specific question regarding people. It was something to the effect of the following:
"I'm confused. In my darkest hour of depression I reached out to the people that I consider to be closest to me and surprisingly I felt little support from them. I felt like they minimized my depression as something that I could change on my own. They say that they want to be there for me and are willing to do anything to help me, yet I feel like they deny the reality of how difficult depression is and leave me feeling empty, how can I make them understand?"
I also have asked myself this same question and I'm still working on figuring it out.
The feelings I had in my most serious bouts of depression were literally so painful that I felt like somebody had died, that I had cancer, that my husband had lost his job and that everything in my life had been completely destroyed. Completely hopeless. I like what this columnist has to say about it:
I have dealt with unipolar depression and I take medication daily to treat it. Over the past seven years, I’ve had two episodes that were severe... I did not eat much and lost weight during these episodes. I couldn’t sleep at all...and had constant diarrhea. It was also accompanied by a constant, thrumming pain that I felt through my whole body. I describe the physical symptoms because it helps to understand that real depression isn’t just a “mood.” These two episodes were the most difficult experiences of my life, by a wide margin, and I did not know if I would make it through them. To illustrate how horrible it was, being in jail in a wheelchair with four broken limbs after the car accident that prompted me to get sober eight years ago was much, much easier and less painful. That isn’t an exxageration and I hope it helps people understand clinical depression better; I’m saying that I would rather be in jail in a wheelchair with a body that doesn’t work than experience a severe episode of depression. (Robert Delaney " On Depression And Getting Help" Feb, 26 2010)
Sounds terrible doesn't it? It is. When we're faced with things like this, we reach out to those we trust most. We go to them having high hopes and expectations that in pouring out our hearts to the people that we love that we'll feel strengthened, supported and most importantly in my book: Understood.
If you're a religious person you might turn to God when nobody understands you. This has been key in helping me deal with depression, God can help fix problems no matter how complicated, no matter how deep and dark. However, it's also my personal belief that most times God answers our pleas for help with people.
WE NEED PEOPLE.
Here's three things that I've learned in this past year:
#1. Depression is real, that's a fact. It is a very debilitating and frightening battle and you need support of others to get through it.
#2. You don't have to (and shouldn't) try to prove how difficult it is to people who don't understand .
#3. Because of the nature of depression, people need people that can validate them and make them feel understood.
You don't have to prove it to everyone you know.
You can't make it your mission statement in life to make all people in your life understand depression. Don't get me wrong, that can seem all backwards. You want people to understand. You want those closest to you to fill your needs and validate your struggles. It's painful opening up to a loved one and then be left feeling empty and completely misunderstood. It may leave you confused and asking yourself, "Maybe I am just making this up, maybe it isn't as big of a deal as I feel it is". I've felt that. But there couldn't be anything further from the truth, it is VERY real and VERY hard. Some people are just scared. Some people just don't want to understand it and maybe never will want to. And many just don't understand. It's not that they don't want to, or that they're scared it's just that they don't.
You'll get some people who try and give you advice on how to fix it. Things like, "Well just be positive and have faith and things will work out", ouch. Which can feel a lot like, "Your problem is simple and doesn't really measure up to the "harder" problems in life that people go through, so just put a smile on your face, set some goals, say your prayers and get going!"
I can't think of a more un-motivating statement for a person struggling with clinical depression. There are many more reasons why some people act like it isn't a big deal. My advice? Work on not holding it against them. Know in your heart that this person still loves you and if they really understood what you were going through they would be there for you. It's hard not to become bitter and distance yourself when someone you love reacts in a way that hurts you. Suddenly you start questioning your relationship. Your automatic response is, man, I thought he/she would for sure be there for me! Now when I need them most, they just don't understand me or my situation. What good is our relationship then if they can't help me now?
However, just as it would be foolishness, when you are thirsting to death, to go to an empty well, crank as hard as you can just to get nothing out, and then return the next day to the same thing. It would not be wise to keep opening up to people that don't understand it. It's too harmful to you. Like I said before, don't assume these types of reactions mean people don't care about you or what you're going through, but they don't know how to handle it and they just don't understand. BUT, you need people who can validate you and understand you when it comes to a problem like this.
Identify people in your life that can support you or go find people that can
I used to think that in order to maintain a close and healthy relationship with people you had to know EVERYTHING about each other. You share every detail all the time. Well sometimes it's healthier not to, ESPECIALLY when it comes to depression.
This is what I'm working on understanding:
Identify the strengths of the people you rely on the most, and turn to them for the things they are best at. Some are listeners, some understand things really well, some are open-minded. Focus on their strengths and don't hold their weaknesses against them (E.G. not understanding why you are feeling the things you are feeling right now). My advice, don't cut yourself off from the people in your support system that don't seem to understand what depression is like. You love these people and they love you. They can be a gold mine of laughter or a diamond cave uplifting your thoughts when it comes to other aspects of your relationship.
HOWEVER, like I said before, it may be the case that when it comes to depression they don't really know how to help so don't keep going back expecting them to understand. It will probably end up being a frustrating experience for both of you.
Well here we are back to the question of what if I keep hitting dead ends? What if I've gone to every person I consider close to me and still feel misunderstood? Then my friend, you've got to reach out. It's not easy, it wasn't easy for me, but having people in my life that truly understood and validated what I was going through made all the difference. So who might some of these people be you might ask? It's been my experience that counseling with a professional is a REALLY good idea and a really important person to include in your support system. They do a fantastic job of making you feel understood. Like what you're facing is real. The best part isn't that they just listen, they give you more understanding and skills in facing it effectively. It took me a couple different therapists to find the right fit for me, but I finally did and she's taught me so much and brought so much peace and understanding into my life. It's not scary, I promise. After you go you'll wonder why you didn't go sooner. Give it a chance, I'm SO grateful I did. I'm a huge fan.
One drawback to therapy is that it can be a little expensive. NAMI, The National Alliance for Mental Illness is a wonderful resource that offers community classes and group therapy in many if not most communities. Best part, it's free. Go to this link to find out more. Someone else that might be helpful would be a clergyman that you trust, not necessarily for counseling per say, but he'll likely know of some good resources and will be able to point you in the right direction.
There are people that can understand you if you don't already have them in your life right now. I know it! I went for a couple years feeling so separated from everyone else. It can be very destructive to you and to the people in your life. Be good to yourself, you're doing the best that you can. Come to terms with where you are and what you're facing and humbly accept that you need help. You'll be so thankful that you did. Be mindful of who you talk to about the things you're experiencing with depression and remember that the people that don't understand it love you very much. Appreciate what they offer and don't cut them out of your life. I know at times depression can take over your world. I've had times where I've had an insatiable need for feeling understood with my depression and when people didn't get it I felt frustrated with them and very disappointed. Then the time came when things got a little easier, when the depression lightened and I felt sad that I held it against them.
Love those currently in your life for all the wonderful qualities they possess. You need them and they need you. If you don't currently have someone that understands what depression is like, reach out and make a new friend or find a professional that can help lighten the load of depression and go to them for comfort.
Two of my favorite quotes to end on.
"Old friends is always best, lest you catch a new one that's fit to make an old one out of"-author unknown
"The blessing it is to have a friend to whom one can speak fearlessly on any subject; with whom one's deepest as well as one's most foolish thoughts come out simply and safely. Oh, the comfort — the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person — having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all right out, just as they are, chaff and grain together; certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then with the breath of kindness blow the rest away." -Dinah Craik
Friday, January 14, 2011
The Best Job
Recently a friend wrote me and asked about postpartum depression. She's expecting her first baby and as a reader of this blog, knew of my experience with depression. She politely asked me if I would share with her my experience specifically with postpartum. She opened up about not knowing who to talk to about all of it, that her family didn't quite understand how to help, and she didn't feel like her friends would be able to much either. I'd been feeling for some time that I needed to share a bit of what I went through with postpartum, but I wanted to wait till I felt like the right time to share, well I want to say thanks to my friend for giving me the go ahead on this post.
You want to know the truth?
I was about two months into motherhood and I felt like something was terribly wrong with me. Every time I heard or read something to the effect of ..."Being a mom is the best job in the world", "I love being a mom", "I just love to hold my baby and be at home with him/her all day long"... this frustrated me. I was confused because I didn't feel that way at all.
Now, before you jump to the conclusion and judge me as a cold-hearted ingrate for not appreciating the privilege it is to be a mother... please let me explain.
I remember when we found out I was expecting Logan. We were both incredibly in awe and happy. I felt real joy knowing that I was, for lack of a better word, fertile :) I was amazed and almost shocked that there was a real LIVE person inside of me. I almost couldn't wrap my mind around it. I felt so privileged to be carrying a baby, it amazed me that I was actually going to be a mom. It amazed me that I, ME was actually in the "mom" phase of life. For the first time it hit me, wow we can actually GROW humans, crazy! Ok, so maybe for some of you it isn't that mind boggling, but it was for me.
It took ME being pregnant to realize what a miracle it is that we can actually create human life.
Pregnancy proved to be challenging for me. Morning sickness wreaked havoc on my body for about five months. I think that's when post-partum depression started for me. Ya weird, I didn't know until then that you could get "post" partum depression before you actually have your baby, but I did. I was miserable. I wasn't productive. I couldn't cook or eat much and felt like such a drag to my husband. I tried to read but it made me sick. I tried little hobbies and crafts but mostly just felt like sleeping. It was really rough physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I felt worthless. I had specific goals before getting pregnant to eat only the healthiest of foods and exercise hardcore daily, but ended up relying on top ramen and soltaire to get me through. I felt like a failure because I couldn't be the best pregnant woman that I had imagined myself being. Truth was, I was one sick girl and I did the best I could.
Towards the third trimester things started looking up. I could eat. I could go do things with my husband. I could walk into a grocery store and not throw up because of all the weird smells. I was feeling great emotionally and physically. I felt better about myself and my confidence in myself and the future improved.
About three weeks before being full term, I remember there laying in bed with overwhelming anxiousness and fear about being a mom. I was feeling depression and anxiety start to creep their way back in. I got up and decided to take a shower hoping to be reassured by the warmth and wash away the coldness and confusion. I sobbed and sobbed there for a while. I knew I needed to talk to my doctor.
My doctor talked to me about starting therapy again and maybe trying an anti-depressant. I agreed. I frantically started trying to get things in order, but therapists have long waiting lists and anti-depressants take a few weeks to really get in your system and take effect.
When my son was born I wasn't prepared emotionally for the positive or the negative. I felt what people had described to me as, "An instant and overwhelming love" as I held him for the first time. Yet again, Ryan and I were both amazed that all over the world every single day hundreds of babies are born, because to us this felt like the grandest and most personal miracle either of us had ever experienced. I was so filled with love for my son and my husband. I felt the depression that had found it's way back in a few weeks prior, literally wash away. I was elated and felt safe again.
The first month was a whirlwind. I think I was just running off of adrenalin. I felt great actually. Was I overwhlemed? Yes. Was I depressed? Not yet. In fact about a month into parenthood my husband looked at me and said, "Wow you're doing great! Maybe we're going to be alright, I think postpartum would have hit by now?" Ya maybe you're right I thought, inside though I wasn't really sure. First of all my son was a REALLY colicky baby. He cried NON-STOP for the first 5 months of his life. And because we had just moved down into our neighborhood less than 6 months prior to him being born I didn't feel comfortable asking for help. People offered, they were very kind. But I was paranoid, I felt like I HAD TO DO IT. I was the mom and I had to be strong, my son needed me.
After two months of no sleep and constantly listening to crying all day, I started to lose it. I became severely anxious to the point that I couldn't even sleep even if my son was sleeping. I had to watch him to make sure he didn't stop breathing. I had to check on him every few minutes in the night and readjust his blankets so he didn't die of sids.
It was like being hit by a huge wave in the ocean. Has that ever happened to you? I remember being amazed at the force of the wave as it pushed me down under and smacked me down to the sandy bottom. I felt disoriented by the swirling of the water and the salt in my nose and mouth and before I knew it, WHAM another knocked me back down to the bottom and came up gasping for air. WHAM! Again and again. This is what it was like. Here I was as a new mom trying and wanting so much to enjoy this special time. But I was drowning. I'm not a stranger to depression, so I knew what it was when it hit. But I had never EVER experienced it to the degree that I experienced after having a baby. There was so much going on. I had other health problems as well. I was diagnosed with a thyroid disease which partially explained some of my emotional state. I had a very difficult baby. Some of it makes sense in a way. But the specifics of why and how I don't know, all I know was that it was really bad. I was plagued with guilt by one thought. I HATED being a mom. I loved my son, but I hated my role as a mother. I wanted so badly to like it. I had always wanted to be a mother, I never wanted a career, all I wanted was to be at home with my children. Yet I found myself with a dark dark cloud over my mind and heart that left me feeling desperate for something, anything but being at home. It ripped me apart to talk to other new moms that were loving it and were confused when I opened up a little bit about the horror I was experiencing. What was wrong with me? Was it just because I was some selfish weirdo that I couldn't be happy? Why couldn't I just be happy? It just didn't make sense.
It started to take a tole on our marriage. I would call my husband and sob and tell him that I hated my life and I hated that I hated it. He would reassure me that I didn't need to feel guilty, he knew it was hard. More than once he came home from work to help me, telling his boss that I was sick. And I really was just that, sick. It was so hard for him. Here I was drowning in this dark sea of depression and sometimes he just got frustrated with it all. That was one of the hardest parts, feeling so much pain and emptiness that I just couldn't explain, that he couldn't feel. On the outside, we were a happy newlywed couple experiencing the joys of being parents for the first time. We had a beautiful, healthy son. We had really good days, but the bad days were really bad. I don't think anybody really knows how much we suffered, it was hell.
A few months passed and I was still on a waiting list for a therapist and a psychiatrist who could prescribe an anti-depressant. My endocrinologist reassured me that once my thyroid was in order, my depression should clear up. It didn't. I waited for four months for my thyroid meds to do the trick, instead I just kept getting worse and worse. I don't want to and can't blame anyone for it. Not doctors, not waiting lists, not God, not my son, not my husband, nobody. What happened, happened. I got lost through the cracks and spiraled out of control, and 6 months into motherhood I had a nervous breakdown.
For personal reasons I don't want to get into all the details. Maybe someday but not now. It was really bad, you can trust me on that one. I had really hit rock bottom like I never thought I could. I was angry with God. I had been a really good kid growing up. I was nice. I tried really hard to do what was right and to help others. I chose being a mother over pursuing a career. I was accomplished and well-liked. "Optimistic" is what most people described me as. How could this have happened? I wanted to and was trying to be a great mom, It blew my mind.
But I guess the old adage is, "The good thing about hitting rock bottom is that the only place to go is up". And I did start going up. I did get the help I needed. I have people that have helped me get things back on track. The puzzle isn't completely solved, but I'll take 50% over negative -100% any day. I'm really grateful to be where I'm at. I can see a light in the distance. There's a lighthouse in my sea of darkness, I'm not out of the sea yet, and I don't know how long that will take to be free, but light is a powerful thing. Even if it's a little pinprick, it can reach through the darkness. Sometimes I get all motivated and try to rush my progess. I try to run to the light. I'm reminded that it's like I'm pulling a semi-truck behind me, and so while I'm moving towards the light and making progress daily, I have to be patient with myself and congratulate myself for even the smallest improvements. If you're pulling a semi-truck you're only going to be able to go a centimeter at a time. Other people run past you to accomplish their goals and sometimes you get frustrated with yourself, how come I can't go faster? Just remember you're pulling a semi-truck that no one else can see, what matters is that you focus on the light, no matter how dim it may be and keep moving towards the light. God will help you, he's making all the difference for me. It's my belief that God helps those that have depression through therapists, psychiatrists and other professionals.
My advice? Don't feel embarrassed to utilize them. I've heard countless people say they wish they had gone to therapy sooner instead of waiting till they were really off. If you've dealt depression in the past, then there's a high chance that you'll also deal with postpartum. However, there's also those that never experience depression until they become mothers. Whatever the case, try to get your cards in line the best you can BEFORE. That meaning, talk to your OB about it. Express your concerns. Ask what medications that are safest to use and get recommendations of a good therapist. Be proactive in finding a therapist that you LIKE before your baby is born (get on the phone, call them, talk to them a bit and see if they're a good fit for you). Make appointments and get on waiting lists before your due date, because once the baby comes there won't be any "you" time for the first couple months. I'm not saying worry about it, just be prepared. You may be one of the lucky ones that escapes it, but don't wait till it's bad before you seek help. If you're not sleeping when your baby is sleeping through the night, if you're crying A LOT weeks after your baby is born and you worry incessantly about your baby dying, it's past time to get help.
It wasn't just until about a month ago that it happened. I was chasing my son up the stairs, he was laughing and trying to go as fast as he could, struggling because his pants were too long, it was really funny. The thought, "I love being a mom" came effortlessly. Oh my gosh I thought. I wanted to cry. wow. People weren't lying about the joy they felt being a mother. I'm thankful that I can honestly say that I'm beginning to truly feel that way about it. I'm not saying that the depression ended and that I don't still struggle, I do, yes that's for sure. Daily actually. BUT, there's hope and love in my heart that wasn't there before. Our marriage was put through the fire and we felt so punished, we felt so weak as a couple. However, our experience forged us together. We literally are one. The depth of our relationship is deeper and truer. When we say, "I love you," we really mean I love you unconditionally. It's a beautiful thing. I'm beginning to see the beauty and grandeur of God's plan, families. Families bring joy. Our son brings us joy. We're better because of what we went through. We're still going through it I guess, but the load has been lightened significantly.
A blogger that went through something like I did, sums up perfectly why there's hope for postpartum sufferers.
"I will always remember how hard it was the first time, and I will always sympathize with women who struggle they way that I did. But now I feel like I can understand the others who beamed when talking about life with an infant. I get it now. Yes, I know this makes me some droning mommyblogger, but I also hope that this, from the perspective of someone who has lived through the blinding demons of sadness and hopelessness, might give someone out there a glimpse of what it can be, and maybe they'll go for it."
And you most definitely should.
It started to take a tole on our marriage. I would call my husband and sob and tell him that I hated my life and I hated that I hated it. He would reassure me that I didn't need to feel guilty, he knew it was hard. More than once he came home from work to help me, telling his boss that I was sick. And I really was just that, sick. It was so hard for him. Here I was drowning in this dark sea of depression and sometimes he just got frustrated with it all. That was one of the hardest parts, feeling so much pain and emptiness that I just couldn't explain, that he couldn't feel. On the outside, we were a happy newlywed couple experiencing the joys of being parents for the first time. We had a beautiful, healthy son. We had really good days, but the bad days were really bad. I don't think anybody really knows how much we suffered, it was hell.
A few months passed and I was still on a waiting list for a therapist and a psychiatrist who could prescribe an anti-depressant. My endocrinologist reassured me that once my thyroid was in order, my depression should clear up. It didn't. I waited for four months for my thyroid meds to do the trick, instead I just kept getting worse and worse. I don't want to and can't blame anyone for it. Not doctors, not waiting lists, not God, not my son, not my husband, nobody. What happened, happened. I got lost through the cracks and spiraled out of control, and 6 months into motherhood I had a nervous breakdown.
For personal reasons I don't want to get into all the details. Maybe someday but not now. It was really bad, you can trust me on that one. I had really hit rock bottom like I never thought I could. I was angry with God. I had been a really good kid growing up. I was nice. I tried really hard to do what was right and to help others. I chose being a mother over pursuing a career. I was accomplished and well-liked. "Optimistic" is what most people described me as. How could this have happened? I wanted to and was trying to be a great mom, It blew my mind.
But I guess the old adage is, "The good thing about hitting rock bottom is that the only place to go is up". And I did start going up. I did get the help I needed. I have people that have helped me get things back on track. The puzzle isn't completely solved, but I'll take 50% over negative -100% any day. I'm really grateful to be where I'm at. I can see a light in the distance. There's a lighthouse in my sea of darkness, I'm not out of the sea yet, and I don't know how long that will take to be free, but light is a powerful thing. Even if it's a little pinprick, it can reach through the darkness. Sometimes I get all motivated and try to rush my progess. I try to run to the light. I'm reminded that it's like I'm pulling a semi-truck behind me, and so while I'm moving towards the light and making progress daily, I have to be patient with myself and congratulate myself for even the smallest improvements. If you're pulling a semi-truck you're only going to be able to go a centimeter at a time. Other people run past you to accomplish their goals and sometimes you get frustrated with yourself, how come I can't go faster? Just remember you're pulling a semi-truck that no one else can see, what matters is that you focus on the light, no matter how dim it may be and keep moving towards the light. God will help you, he's making all the difference for me. It's my belief that God helps those that have depression through therapists, psychiatrists and other professionals.
My advice? Don't feel embarrassed to utilize them. I've heard countless people say they wish they had gone to therapy sooner instead of waiting till they were really off. If you've dealt depression in the past, then there's a high chance that you'll also deal with postpartum. However, there's also those that never experience depression until they become mothers. Whatever the case, try to get your cards in line the best you can BEFORE. That meaning, talk to your OB about it. Express your concerns. Ask what medications that are safest to use and get recommendations of a good therapist. Be proactive in finding a therapist that you LIKE before your baby is born (get on the phone, call them, talk to them a bit and see if they're a good fit for you). Make appointments and get on waiting lists before your due date, because once the baby comes there won't be any "you" time for the first couple months. I'm not saying worry about it, just be prepared. You may be one of the lucky ones that escapes it, but don't wait till it's bad before you seek help. If you're not sleeping when your baby is sleeping through the night, if you're crying A LOT weeks after your baby is born and you worry incessantly about your baby dying, it's past time to get help.
It wasn't just until about a month ago that it happened. I was chasing my son up the stairs, he was laughing and trying to go as fast as he could, struggling because his pants were too long, it was really funny. The thought, "I love being a mom" came effortlessly. Oh my gosh I thought. I wanted to cry. wow. People weren't lying about the joy they felt being a mother. I'm thankful that I can honestly say that I'm beginning to truly feel that way about it. I'm not saying that the depression ended and that I don't still struggle, I do, yes that's for sure. Daily actually. BUT, there's hope and love in my heart that wasn't there before. Our marriage was put through the fire and we felt so punished, we felt so weak as a couple. However, our experience forged us together. We literally are one. The depth of our relationship is deeper and truer. When we say, "I love you," we really mean I love you unconditionally. It's a beautiful thing. I'm beginning to see the beauty and grandeur of God's plan, families. Families bring joy. Our son brings us joy. We're better because of what we went through. We're still going through it I guess, but the load has been lightened significantly.
A blogger that went through something like I did, sums up perfectly why there's hope for postpartum sufferers.
"I will always remember how hard it was the first time, and I will always sympathize with women who struggle they way that I did. But now I feel like I can understand the others who beamed when talking about life with an infant. I get it now. Yes, I know this makes me some droning mommyblogger, but I also hope that this, from the perspective of someone who has lived through the blinding demons of sadness and hopelessness, might give someone out there a glimpse of what it can be, and maybe they'll go for it."
And you most definitely should.
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