The Midlife Reframe

Tag: mental-health

  • If It Makes You Happy

    Hanging With My Peeps

    Here we are.

    One month in.

    I had my check in today with my doctor. We had a good sit down, and even though the tides are slowly turning, there are still some issues. One being: my anxiety is being a jerkwad.

    I go back again in six weeks. We may have to supplement my current prescription if my anxiety doesn’t come down enough.

    This is really good news for me. Starting to feel better this early in the game is a good thing!

    Moving forward is important. Looking back (or too far forward) can be an unpleasant thing for me, so I am trying to focus on each day as it comes.

    Each day I try and start fresh. Sometimes it’s hard, and I try not to complain, but as a human I know I will. So I try to forgive myself.

    One thing I am trying to not do: crush things that make people happy. It serves no purpose to put down something that makes someone happy. I may not like the same things as others, but it doesn’t mean I have to rip someone/something apart because it’s not my thing (except draggy pants because that shit is wrong and not attractive so pull your pants UP! …and criminal activity – jail/prison = NO).

    So, you want to take 500 pictures of yourself with your tongue sticking out? Do it.

    You want to eat Cheez Whiz and (insert whatever here)? Do it.

    You love playing Pokemon Go? Do it.

    You love Crossfit and want to profess your love for it daily? Do it.

    A person’s happiness should not be driven by what everyone else likes.

    DO WHAT MAKES YOU HAPPY.

    [Like buying yet another Rae Dunn mug…even though you may have no room in your cupboards because it’s full of other Rae Dunn mugs 😀

    On that note, I better go find a spot for that new mug.]

    @crazymamaruns

  • On My Way

    Here we are: Week three on my meds, and now on vacation until after Canada Day Weekend.

    No more dizziness (YAY!), just some fatigue that will hopefully work itself out over the next little while.

    I am starting to become more present.

    There is less disassociation.

    I can see NOW that I really should have done this a while ago.

    Sometimes denial is a stronger drug. I don’t want my depression to consume my life. I want it to be anything BUT depression that is making me feel irritated, helpless, and useless.

    I know I have pushed a lot of people away inadvertently (and some on purpose, for my own mental health).

    I am thankful for those who stick around, even when I try to isolate myself, and to those who have kind words when I am not comfortable hearing them.

    Having someone be kind to me makes me nervous, and I will sometimes laugh or be sarcastic because I am uncomfortable. I don’t feel I deserve it.

    That’s what my brain does. It whispers: “You. Are. Not. Worthy. Of. Kindness.”

    I can make a list of things I have sabotaged because I was scared.

    But I can’t look back and brood. I need to unpack those “boxes” and move forward.

    I will slowly start getting back to the gym, and slowly get back to running.

    Each day is still unknown when it comes to my brain, but I’m on my way.

    @crazymamaruns

  • My Brain, The Jerk

    So, here we are.

    I am 5 days into my dosage upgrade.

    It’s been dizzy and sleepy.

    I can say now that those side effects are slowly retreating, and I am finding it a little easier to get out of bed in the morning.

    I am still chewing the sides of my fingernails, although not as much. Still gross.

    I am thankful for those people around me who have not treated me any different than before I announced I was back on medication to stop going down the rabbit hole (again).

    Saying, and acknowledging, that I need help is a very vulnerable moment.

    The days after that are hard. I feel defeated, and tired. The meds are working on my brain chemistry and I am trying to fight the lie machine that lives inside my head.

    It likes to tell me that I deserve to have people pull away. It reminds me of all the awful things that have happened in my life and tells me it was my fault. It will tell me that everyone is talking shit about me when I’m not around.

    I become even more guarded. I will push people away.

    I will doubt every decision. I will doubt my own capabilities.

    I will overdo things because I think I need to make up for my “deficiency”.

    I will be awkward.

    I will be full of insecurity.

    Knowing that I will get better is not always the ray of light it should be.

    Each day is tackled one at a time.

    I will get through this, even though my brain will tell me otherwise.

    This inner war is exhausting.

    I just need a little patience, and understanding.

    I am doing okay, and I will keep moving forward.

    You can go and suck it, jerk brain.

    @crazymamaruns

  • Upgrading My Toolbox (Because Suffering is NOT an Option For Me)

    Today I was able to see my doctor.

    I am very lucky, because I called this morning and got in this afternoon.

    I know I’ve been off kilter for quite some time now (months really) and I’ve been at the edge of the rabbit hole for about the same amount of time.

    I had been able to keep my head above water with running and meditation.

    My depression loves food, and sleep. Lots of food and lots of sleep. It is how it fuels the lie machine.

    I’ve been tired, I mean reaaaalllly tired, for a long time. I sleep a full 8-9ish hours every night.

    When the alarm clock goes off, I drag myself through molasses to get moving. Usually I can enjoy my bed coffee and then get moving.

    Lately it’s been bed coffee and I-want-to-go-back-to-sleep-for-another-eight-hours kind of morning. Every day. Even on the weekend.

    There was also my slow disassociation. I would hear myself talking and be like “Who is that talking? It can’t be me because she sounds like she has her shit together.”

    Please note: SHE DID NOT HAVE HER SHIT TOGETHER.

    This past week I could really notice how I was starting to slowly unravel on the inside. I can’t share it all, because it’s raw right now, and I need to let it be for now.

    But I can share that I had a few conversations with my mom on Saturday, and we drove by the doctor’s office so I could see who was in for the weekend clinic (thanks mom, love you!). Unfortunately it wasn’t my doctor, so I decided then that I would call on Wednesday to try and get an appointment.

    (I am so very lucky, soooooo lucky to have the family doctor I do. She rocks.)

    (Also, to acknowledge my slow brain drain: when I had a conversation with some people at lunch the other day, and then later…when I was on the bus with someone who was sitting RIGHT BESIDE ME during this conversation, I said “remind me to tell you…*insert things from lunch conversation here* that this person already heard because SHE WAS RIGHT BESIDE ME . Ugh.)

    So tomorrow, I start using my new (I’ve taken this medication before so it’s like an old new) tool.

    Living with a mental illness is not easy.

    It’s awful to think that there are people out there who are afraid to ask for help.

    I was once afraid to ask for help.

    I am not afraid anymore.

    Suffering (for me) is not an option.

    I am on my way feeling better.

    One day at a time.

  • Mentally Ill Mother: Mentally Ill Daughter (Or: Stop Telling Me Your Tools Are Better Than Mine)

    You would think that with all of the talk around mental health and the options for treatment, that people would be a little more understanding when it comes to folks choosing the best option for them. From what I have been reading lately, this is not the case.

    So, once again, I am telling the condensed story of why I will choose medication when needed (now with TeenThing’s condensed story included).

    Let’s begin:

    Almost 7 years ago I was diagnosed with depression. I was in such a state I could not function as a regular human.

    (Before all of you “physical activity is the best antidepressant” people even start: I was working as a personal trainer when I was diagnosed. I worked out almost every day. I WAS DYING INSIDE.)

    My whole body hurt. Going outside caused me EXTREME anxiety. I would physically shake when I drove. I probably shouldn’t have been driving (oh well, too late to correct that now). I cried at the drop of a hat.

    I was put on medication when my doctor diagnosed me. Between the medication and my weekly/bi-weekly visits with her, I slowly began to come around.

    Eventually, I was able to go off of medication, for a while. I also went back on medication a couple of years later. I am currently not medicated, and that could change.

    Lesson: I do not wish to feel like I cannot function as a human, so when it is required, and all other options are not working, I will choose medication.

    Recently:

    In November of 2017, my daughter was diagnosed with depression and anxiety. I posted about her diagnosis and how I was chastised about “putting her on meds”.

    My daughter is a relatively grown human. It was HER decision to go on medication.

    Watching her go through the trial and error process to weed out what was going on was awful.

    She would go to work, and then call to come home. She would be crying. She couldn’t be around people. She became nauseous at the thought of dealing with the public. Our trip to Scotland had it’s moments of ick.

    It was not fun.

    The toolset she was given during the first visit to the doctor was not working.

    When she went back to see the doctor, I was there. I sat, let her talk, and together they discussed options. My daughter made the decision to try medication.

    Today she is doing well. There are still off days, but she is working and functioning.

    Lesson: Her decision, made by her, was the right thing, FOR HER.

    There are people who can manage their illness without being medicated. I am not putting these people down, at all.

    What I am saying is this: We all have tools in our toolkit. Some work better than others. Some things work better for me, some work better for you.

    So please, stop telling me I am using the wrong tool, when it’s my toolbox.

    @crazymamaruns

  • Amy’s Anxiety and The Tub

    (Oh how I wish this post was about ice cream…..)

    May 9, 2018:

    So,

    Here I am awake at 11:27pm.

    You’re like…uhhhhh, and?

    Well, I am usually in extreme super sleep right now, because sleep and I are tight.  We have a very good relationship.  Amy + Sleep = BFFs.

    But NOT TONIGHT.

    (Backstory:  We have had some issues since the “new people” moved in next door a while back.  Tub filling up when we shower, or slow draining, etc.  Superintendent has been in, put magic potion in the drains. Drains get back to happy. Yay!  As a backup, I also have been trying to keep happy drains by continuing to use our hair catchers – because two girls and hair – and the occasional magic potion when the slow drain reappeared.)

    8:30pm:  Person I birthed has shower.  Advises tub filled to ankles.  Mother is exhausted so waits until she goes to brush teeth to check tub.

    9:30:  Tub still full of water.  Mother aggravated.

    Mother is so goddamn exhausted and thinks “I cannot do this right now”, and tries to sleep. She can’t. Because anger and anxiety.

    So, Mother searches for any other solution as it is getting late and doesn’t want to bug Superintendent. Nothing works.

    So – mentally ill Mother gets mentally ill Daughter and we begin scooping water out of tub and putting it down bathroom sink.  Notice water coming into tub.  Girl child goes: uh, is that grass?  Is that a leaf?  (I kid you not).

    I am ANGRY.  What in the actual fuck are you doing over there you idiots that live next door?

    Writes note to Superintendent. Puts in special slot beside Superintendent’s door.

    Starts planning curse to put on next door neighbours.

    Brain is in overdrive.

    May never sleep again.

    (Well, okay, I probably will sleep, but it will be horrible sleep and I’ll be cranky because my tub will probably still have water/crud in it tomorrow morning – rawr!!!)

    Okay, now it’s 11:44.  I decide I better try and sleep before tomorrow.

    Does get to sleep.

    May 10, 2018:

    Wakes up at usual time.

    THE TUB STILL HAS STANDING WATER.

    I would put a pic in, but gag.

    So, I baby wipe bathe and get ready for work.

    I am a rage ball today and am now constructing a text to my Superintendent.

    I apologize in advance for all of my feelings today that may come forth as anger towards those I adore.

    Ummmmm, Happy Thursday?!?!

    @crazymamaruns

  • Not Racing…On Purpose

    As most of you know, I am taking this year off from racing. It wasn’t an easy decision and I went back and forth with it, until my body finally had enough, and yelled STOP!

    I am staying away from everything race related this year (well, I’m going to try) because I just need to.

    Do I miss it? Fuck yes.

    I am usually nearing the end of a training cycle right now, as the Scotiabank Bluenose Marathon (my usual spring half) is during our May long weekend.

    It has been weird, BUT…

    I have been working on my muscle imbalances.

    I am getting the rest I really need, physically and mentally. When racing and training starts messing with your head, it’s time to step back.

    I am still running, and it’s starting to become something I enjoy again (thanks to my awesome BRF).

    I am slowly getting my weight training back into my schedule, and I am considering looking at some PT sessions this summer to amp this up.

    I deleted my Garmin account (THE HORROR!) and I am using my Apple Watch to track my fitness.

    AND: There are days I do nothing fitness related.

    I admit that I was afraid of taking this year off.

    I was soooo scared of what may happen (read: freaked that I may not run AT ALL and not miss it).

    But now that I am 4 months in, I’m okay.

    Will I race next year? Don’t know.

    But if I don’t, it’s okay. Racing does not define who I am as a runner.

    That was my internal struggle. That is what I had to come to terms with. I don’t HAVE to race to call myself a runner.

    Racing is a such a personal thing. I loved racing to see where I could push myself physically and mentally.

    Once it becomes about other things, it’s no longer fun.

    So, for now, I am going to continue to enjoy my running on the track, road, and on the trails.

    See you out there fellow runners 🙂

    @crazymamaruns

  • Am I Doing This Wrong?

    It’s funny how quickly self reflection turns into some extreme self criticism.

    Struggling to take expectations off of oneself is not easy.

    There is an internal daily struggle:

    Why can’t I figure this out?

    Why am I so stuck?

    I’ll never figure this out.

    I’m not capable of *insert thing here*.

    I’m not smart enough.

    I’m not going to get through this in one piece.

    Funny thing is: I know I’m capable, I know I’m smart, and I have gotten myself through some pretty awful shit.

    What I am coming to terms with right now are my “mistakes”. I have always seen my mistakes as failures and not lessons. I am slowly trying to gather the lessons and learn what my roadblocks are.

    I’m also going to have to use my “toolbox” of skills more when it comes to stressful situations. It’s so easy to head into a tailspin.

    My Sunday runs with my BRF are helping (and the runs I have that are my own, without technology and without social media posts).

    Making sure I wind down every night also helps.

    I need to remind myself often that I can’t do it all, and no one is expecting me to do it all.

    My journey into self reflection is a long winding road.

    I’m always learning.

    Always reminding myself: I am a human.

    Doing my best.

    One chaotic day at a time.

    @crazymamaruns

  • So Many Things

    When I am coming out of a depressive episode, it’s like a slow sunrise after an overnight storm.

    I am never sure how long I’ll have before the next descent, so I am soaking in every moment I can. Saving good memories for the next fog filled vortex.

    I’ve been running with my BRF Kara these past two Sundays. It’s been quite a while since we’ve laced up together. We decided on “let’s move ‘x’ kms – running/walking, as long as we are moving” as our plan.

    It’s been working great. We run/walk/chat and get our track time in. It’s been great therapy. So thankful for her. She’s seen me at one of my lowest moments, and helped me start moving again.

    Super bonus to starting over: my calves are not sore!!!

    My quads, hammies, and glutes on the other hand, are……aware, lol.

    This is the culmination of a well needed break and some awesome folks giving me the tools I needed to get my body back in balance (Thank you Lifemark SMU and CGC).

    Coming out of the fog has given me a renewed outlook on some things. I am really looking at what is important to me. Really thinking about what I can do without: things, places, people (harsh, but true).

    I need to harness this moment. Do what I can while I am “good”, so when it’s “bad” I have the right people and things around me.

    There is a lot of unknown in my life right now.

    So much unknown.

    So many things I can’t control.

    It’s okay.

    Taking it day by day is where I’m at.

    @crazymamaruns

  • Looking Out From The In

    It’s been a rough go these past few months.

    Swimming upstream was taking its toll.

    The daily struggle of getting out of bed was hard, and my life mojo was low.

    Having a moment in each and every day to sit and be present with myself caused me to face some of my demons head on. Taking time to stop and breathe made me extremely aware.

    I am thankful I am making time for me on and off my yoga mat. (Not running hasn’t been easy, but I am making headway and my calves don’t hate me.)

    These moments of self reflection made me aware of how well I can convince myself that I am not mentally ill.

    Now, just hang on there: I said convince myself . This is not a good thing. This is where I shove everything down into the core of my being where it sits to fester.

    The big ball of festering feels starts to manifest outward: I chew the skin around my fingers. I don’t care if my house isn’t clean. I get snippy. Hearing people speak makes me rage-y. Being in a large area with lots of people really makes me want to curl into a ball. I can go on and on. The list is frigging LARGE.

    Facing my demons is not always easy. It can be goddamn scary. Not knowing what the outcome will be can be very overwhelming. But I need to do it. This is how I know if I need to ask for help.

    For now, I’m good. Things are okay. I’m still hanging out in my cocoon a bit, because it’s cozy in here, but I am slowly coming around.

    Another rough patch done.

    I know there will be another.

    For now, I am embracing this moment, looking out from the in.

    @crazymamaruns