Category: mentalhealth

  • Following My Path

    After unpacking some of my shit, it was time to forge a new path.

    (I am not done unpacking all my shit. Far from it.)

    I need to start following my own path. For years I have been following someone else’s path, or the path that I thought was expected of me.

    I am still trying to navigate my new path. It’s going to be rough some days, but I am really looking forward to moving ahead, instead of looking back.

    I am learning many things about myself, and I am keeping an open mind when things don’t go the way I hoped they would.

    I am continuing to embrace my mental illness (even on the bad days), and coming to terms with how it is a part of me, but yet doesn’t define me as a human.

    I am slowly making changes in my life, and it feels good.

    So if you see me feeling lost, or putting myself down, give me a poke and remind me: you are moving forward.

    Moving. Forward.

  • Unpacking My Shit: Plant Style

    So one of the things that has come from the unpacking of the shit has been how uncomfortable my apartment has been feeling (you know, besides the messy depression mess that seems to never go away, bastard).

    I have plants in my temporary office space, and I realized just how much more comfortable it feels having some green life around .

    I have now been on a mission to green up my place.

    Note: it can be expensive to buy bigger plants so I have been buying a lot of babies.

    In true mental illness fashion, I need all the plants and do all the research which equals obsessed, but I see this as a good obsession.

    I am starting to feel more comfortable and have new friends to take care of…..and keep alive.

    Also, it is hard to stay off of plant ordering websites: don’t…. look…. at….. them…. Amy.

    Let’s hope I don’t kill these new friends.

    (Thank goodness for plant apps with info and watering reminders!!)

    So, expect the odd obsessive plant post as I start my journey as a plant mom 😊

    Yay plants!

    Plaaaaaaaaaaaants.

  • Unpacking My Shit

    Here I am.

    It’s been a while since I sat down and unpacked some of my boxes.

    Not talking the physical kind. I am talking about the mental kind.

    I have filled many boxes over the years with all of my unpleasant thoughts and situations.

    I’ve started to unpack these boxes lately, and it hasn’t been fun.

    I’ve made some peace with certain situations in my life, and realized what I have been carrying around that wasn’t mine to carry.

    I’ve had guilt about staying in a mentally abusive marriage for such a long time. Time to kick that to curb. I have a beautiful daughter that came from that experience and so I focus on her. We’ve been a two person team since she was eight months old and I am super proud of the woman she is becoming.

    I am very self deprecating. It’s easy. My mental illness makes it easier. This is one I will struggle with daily, but I am working on it. I try and pick out one thing a day that I love about myself and keep that as a focus.

    My self doubt is another thing I am working on. That is also a daily struggle with me and my brain. I’m getting there though.

    I’ve had massive guilt about being a mom with a mental illness to a daughter with mental illness. I blamed myself for her illness. I must have given it to her. I didn’t know how to make peace with that until recently. We are who we are and we both just happen to have the same illness. Some days it’s hard struggling with my own while helping her, but we have each other’s back. Always.

    Today, I am starting to change my relationship with food. Food is fuel, but food is also feelings for me. When I am down I eat food to feel better, but not good food. I eat food that eventually makes me feel sluggish and sleepy. I made a grocery list today and stuck to it. Lots of healthy options for lunches and snacks.

    I also unpacked my box with the “my depression lives here” sticker on it. That one really opens up on its own and barfs all over my apartment. I don’t clean. I leave things everywhere. I don’t put my clean clothes away. I have no energy and I don’t care. But I have to care, because this place is a freaking DISASTER AREA.

    Those are just some of the boxes I am unpacking.

    I am doing the opposite with my gym bag. That is being packed for tomorrow morning. Movement makes me feel better about myself.

    So now, I need to unpack my groceries, lol.

    Facing some of these things has been hard, but worth it in order for me to move forward.

    Step by step.

    Day by day.

    Or even, minute by minute.

    It’ll get done, and I’ll keep moving forward.

  • Struggling With Self Worth

    This is a daily struggle for me.

    Part of my mental illness is a feeling of worthlessness.

    I doubt myself on an hourly basis.

    I never think I am good enough. On my good days I can gather up the gumption to kick that thought to the curb.

    But dammit it’s hard.

    When I was diagnosed with depression I was afraid of being a failure as not only a human, but as a mom. I wasn’t good enough to be mom, a daughter, a friend.

    I can see the worth in others, but not always in myself.

    Prioritizing time for me is hard. When I do take time for myself I feel guilty, because, let’s keep it real here, I don’t think I’m worth it.

    My brain tells me this every day, even with medication.

    I’m like a bad SNL skit throughout the day, reminding myself that I am worthy, I am capable, I am smart, and people do like me.

    I’m also bad at taking compliments because of this. Like, really bad. I feel embarrassed. NOT WORTHY.

    I’m good at pretending I have tons of confidence though. Sometimes, I almost give myself permission to feel as confident as I pretend I am.

    I am a work in progress. Always learning.

    I’ll get there. That place where I believe my worth.

    I may be 80 by the time that happens, but boy oh boy, will I be one kickass 80 year old!!

  • My Body is Changing and I Need a Support Group

    I’ll be 47 in a few months.

    My body is starting to work against me now. No matter what I do, it’s like I am moving through molasses.

    My days are already a battle with my brain.

    Now it’s a battle with my body.

    I am still running. Still physically active.

    My body is in “gather” mode. Like I am starving and it needs to save up extra gear to keep me alive.

    I AM FINE BODY, CAN YOU SLOW YOUR ROLL?!?

    Coming to peace with all the weird hormonal things going on is a struggle.

    The body and brain are a combo that are fighting for attention right now and I am exhausted trying to keep these balls up in the air.

    I am seriously thinking of starting a support group.

    It will have wine, food, and wise women that tell us all the stuff we need to know to make it through this weird state of walking backwards.

    So until I figure this out, I’ll just keep moving. My brain is going to need it.

  • Bluenose 15k

    I received a fantastic pep talk close to the end of my 15km race on June 9th.

    It reminded me that even though I thought I had given up, that I could push through that last little bit and cross the finish line.

    Running is a coping skill for me. I can hash things out on a run, or sometimes I hash nothing out and run to forget.

    This run, this run is where I worked some shit out.

    This run was hot.

    This run was hard.

    This run was full of soul searching and forgiveness.

    This run reminded me of what I am capable of. That I am not weak. That I am stronger than I think, physically and mentally.

    I forget that when my depression is trying to sink it’s teeth in.

    I forgave myself for a lot on this run. I forgave a lot of things (and people) on this run.

    When I crossed that finish line, I felt less heavy.

    My legs were screaming, and I was nauseous, but lighter.

    Being kind to yourself is hard.

    Forgiving yourself is hard.

    Remembering that you come first is hard.

    Taking time for yourself is not selfish, it is an investment in your well being.

    YOU are worth the effort.

    Become lighter.

    Become YOU.

    (P.S. Now, this will be so very hard to remember when my depression is bad. Hopefully I can come back to this post and get something small out of it when I need to, and I hope you can too.)

  • It Can’t Rain All the Time, or Can It?

    I am pretty sure it’s been raining for eleventy billion days.

    (At least that’s what it feels like. There have been scattered days of sunshine, but it seems Spring has taken to hibernating.)

    I am a solar powered human. I need the sun to lift my spirits.

    Rainy, cold days are soul sucking demons.

    My brain is more of a jerk during long periods of crappy weather. My body just wants to hibernate.

    It’s hard to get motivated. It’s hard to find the good.

    The voice in my head likes to use these long periods of bad weather as a catalyst for its evil plans to ruin any little piece of joy I find in the day.

    I see a peek of sun: Ha, that’s not gonna last long.

    I go out for a walk at lunch and it isn’t raining: Yeah, it’s not raining but it is cold out.

    I finish a not so fun task at work and sigh in relief: Look at everything else you need to get done. You’ll never catch up.

    I plan a dinner date: Your house is a mess and he’ll see every single speck of dirt you see and will think you are a pig.

    It’s like I can’t win.

    The sun makes such a difference for me. Not always, as my illness can drop it like it’s hot whenever it wants, but for the most part it does bring the happies.

    So, as I sit here and write, I can see a bit of blue sky.

    See, it can’t rain all time.

  • I’m Pretty Sure My Fingers Are F@&ED

    I’ve talked about this before.

    How I chew on my fingers when I am super stressed or full of life cramping anxiety.

    Well, GUESS WHAT. My new meds have evened me out with my anxiety, but I still chew my fingers like my life is going to end, goddammit.

    I also had to cut my nails off because some of them split on the sides from my intrusive teeth.

    I have a stress drawer at work, which is filled with mini chocolate bars and other miscellaneous treats for when I am stressed and full of MONSTER anxiety (this most lovely pic is the recent stress drawer inventory).

    I have decided that I need to use this drawer to seriously save my fingers.

    Now, don’t get me wrong, I know I can eat carrots or broccoli and win the health aspect here, but I need comfort and sometimes a Jolly Rancher is what I need to get by.

    So yes, things are stressful.

    I know things will get back to normal.

    For now, my stress drawer is my sanity.

    As you were.

  • I’m Still Tired, Dammit

    It is finally sunny (and will be for more than a day) and I am still tired

    I am usually a solar powered human.

    The rain depleted me so very badly the last week.

    It’s going to take me a while to power back up, even with the extra vitamin D I took last week.

    Also, still being injured and not being able to run at all this weekend is a major bummer. I was able to do active recovery, but it just isn’t the same.

    I am moving around a lot more today, but a lot of it is nervous energy. My brain is firing on all cylinders.

    I feel like I am housing a tornado.

    I always question why I am so tired, and have to remind myself that my constant battle with my illness and the meds will make me tired. Some days are harder than others.

    I sometimes forget the physical aspect of my mental illness. It can be easy when you are in an okay spot. You forget how much it can hurt, can drag you down, can exhaust you.

    Pushing back can be tiring. On the harder days it can be downright defeating.

    But I get up, dust myself off and try again the next day.

    For now, I’ll forgive myself for being so tired, and remember that it won’t always be this exhausting.

    There is some good in my life right now, and that’s what I am focusing on.

    Tomorrow is a brand new day.

    Today is temporary. One moment of many.

    For now, the sun is shining πŸ™‚

  • Mental Illness is NOT Cool

    It’s just not.

    If I HAD a choice, I would choose not to have it.

    These are the cards I was dealt.

    I will always have this illness.

    It is not a bandwagon you can jump on, nor is it fashionable.

    I talk about it because I decided to be open about my journey, not because I want attention or because I think it’s “cool” to have a mental illness.

    It’s not cool.

    It’s painful. It’s debilitating. It’s a constant struggle.

    It’s not something that you WANT to have.

    I wouldn’t wish mental illness on anyone.

    This blog, my social media channels, they are my voice.

    Sometimes I voice the good things.

    Sometimes I voice the bad things.

    All in all, it’s my journey.

    The journey is real.

    And so is my illness.