The Midlife Reframe

Category: mom

  • Keeping it Real

    This is Mental Illness Awareness Week, and I decided that every day, on my personal Facebook page, I would write something about my experience with mental illness.

    I did my “hey this is what I am doing” post on Sunday night.

    I did “hey here are my meds” on Monday.

    Today (Tuesday), well today was a rough day. One of those “it hurts to move and I don’t want to face the world” kind of days.

    So, when I picked myself up out of bed I contemplated whether or not I would share it.

    It took me until I got on the bus to be able to form a post that expressed how my day was going to be.

    I don’t have these kind of days that often, now that I am medicated. But they still sneak in there.

    I had told myself long ago that if I was going to be open about my mental illness that I had to share the good and the bad.

    This felt/feels different. Sharing my experiences on my own personal Facebook page opens me up to everyone.

    Being vulnerable and having such an outpouring of support does make the fight a bit easier….until I dig deep and my brain says “Hey, nice going attention whore.” Then I want to crawl back into a hole and stay there forever.

    I have to remind myself that sharing the things I do is not an attention grab. I am sharing my journey, my good and my bad. Today was bad. Tomorrow may be a better day.

    I keep telling myself this: People won’t know how hard it is to fight a mental illness if you don’t keep it real.

    So, I’ll keep sharing. Sharing what is real in my life, and in my fight with a mental illness.

  • We’ve Got a New Drug

    Well, the me of we doesn’t.

    The V of we does.

    She is on a weaning off plan this week, with her new drug (Fetzima) to be started after that.

    She follows up with the doc in a month.

    This drug can be increased up to 120mg if need be.

    Fingers are crossed for this one.

    Maybe toes too.

    Better to have that little extra crossed for good measure!

    (Side Note: We saw the doc the day before Hurricane Dorian made its way to our part of the world. Thankfully we made it through unscathed on our little street. There is a lot of damage in certain areas of our city, but we fared well. Cleanup is underway and the power company is working to get everyone back on the grid as quickly as they can.)

  • 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.

  • 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.

  • What I Wish You Knew

    In my darkest (and not so darkest) hours there are things I cannot say.

    It’s not because I physically can’t. It’s because I am afraid to. If they are spoken out loud they become real. If they stay inside they are only my demons to deal with.

    So, when I can’t say what I need to, this is what I wish you knew:

    • How hard it is to drag myself out of bed each morning
    • How much it hurts to move
    • That even though I’m smiling, I am probably empty inside
    • That I am not lazy
    • That I am not making excuses
    • That asking me how I am does not come across as you think it does
    • That I need help with almost everything
    • That making decisions can be debilitating
    • That washing my hair seems like a monumental task
    • That when I’m quiet, I’m hurting
    • That when I’m loud, I’m hurting
    • When I chew the skin around my nails, I am really really anxious
    • Sometimes it’s all just too much
    • That I am not mad at you
    • That I know you want to help, but I feel like such a tremendous burden
    • My anger and frustration is not directed at you
    • That I need time alone to decompress
    • My brain makes me think I’m a failure
    • Even when I try, and succeed, I feel guilty
    • When I say I need to go home, I do, badly
    • That being around crowds can be paralyzing
    • That hopelessness is always nipping at my heals
    • That medication doesn’t make it all go away
    • That I don’t feel brave, or strong
    • I’m crying because I am frustrated, not sad
    • How exhausting it is to just be
    • Fighting this is hard, so hard
    • That most days, all I want to do is sleep
    • How much I hate this

  • Life as a Depression Ninja

    Depression Ninja?

    Yes.

    I’ve talked about how great of an actress I am. 99% of the time, you would never know that I suffer from a mental illness.

    I’m good at hiding it, and it can take it’s toll. Not only on me, but on those around me.

    That 1% of the time when I cannot hide it can be intense. When I lash out, push people away, and hide, I am at the breaking point.

    It’s a hard thing to break, this hiding my illness thing. People don’t understand how I can be sick, and still function, laugh, and get out of bed.

    I have to function. I have a job. I have rent and bills. I have a daughter who also suffers from a mental illness. I have sometimes forced myself to function for survival.

    When I was first diagnosed with depression I couldn’t function. It was awful. I slept lots, everything hurt, and I felt completely hopeless.

    I fight to not get to that point every day.

    I am thankful for my meds. They have lifted me out of the deep.

    They haven’t “cured” my mental illness, but they have helped me to stay relatively stable.

    So if I am awful towards you, (and you haven’t done anything to me), it’s not because I am an awful person. I’ve reached my breaking point, and I need help.

    A gentle nudge to say “hey, you’re not acting like yourself”, can be just what I need to open up. Sometimes I just need an ear, or a shoulder.

    This illness doesn’t go away.

    I’m a Depression Ninja for life.

  • Speaking in Public: Oh My Nerves

    This year I have two speaking engagements.

    My first one is at the end of this month, at Podcamp Halifax (held at Dalhousie University) and the other in May at the Worth Living Mental Health Conference here in Halifax (at the Atlanica Hotel.

    I have spoken in public before, and was a bundle of anxiety.

    For me, the difference from then until now is that I have become extremely passionate about sharing my journey.

    I will be authentic.

    I will be genuine.

    No smoke screen.

    No masks.

    Just me.

    I am not sure how I will be received, but I am anxious and excited (anxcited, lol).

    The message is important to me.

    I hope that sharing it with a live audience makes a difference.

    If I can make the connection with the audience, then my goal will be achieved.

    It’s time to get real, in the public realm.

  • Awake at 2am

    It’s now 3:32am as I type this and I am wide awake.

    One cat is legit right beside me purring in my face. The other just went from the chair to underneath my bed.

    This will be gross if I don’t go back to sleep.

    I am going to blame this on my bladder. If I didn’t have to pee I’d still be asleep.

    Why? Why did thou forsake me bladder?

    Ugh.

    I’ll probably be awake now for the rest of the day, or I’ll go back to sleep at 5am.

    Not sure what is going on in the innermost workings of my brain to keep me awake like this. But it sure is annoying.

    Maybe I’m hungry. I should go and make some toast.

    But if I do that, will it just keep me awake longer?

    Grrrrrrrrrrrrr.

    I’m going to make some toast.

    Stupid brain (and maybe stomach, definitely bladder).

    Good Morning World….sigh.

  • Chewing The Skin Around My Nails

    Yes.

    I chew the skin around my fingernails.

    It’s a stress/anxiety solution to “getting rid” of my feelings.

    I will chew them, sometimes, until they bleed. Especially when my anxiety levels are high.

    My new meds have helped with the daily chewing. I am starting to slow my roll.

    I am now wearing fake nails to help stop this madness. If they stay on for a bit, and my fingers get better, I may consider gel nails at the salon.

    Anything to stop me from doing it. Anything to make me not feel ashamed about my hands.

    When I was a teenager they had stuff you could put around your nails that tasted bad so you would not chew your skin.

    I still chewed.

    Nail polish doesn’t stop me either.

    It’s not something I can “just stop”. Sometimes I don’t even realize I’m doing it until it hurts.

    It’s not noticeable unless you look really close. It’s really noticeable when I get out of the shower, or right after I do dishes. You can see my chew marks.

    UGH.

    For now, I am going to see how these nails pan out and hope for the best.

    I’ll let you know how it goes.