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WELCOME!

This web is where I weave my wacky.

Enjoy.

 

 

I write about all sorts of things. To see a specific category, 

 click a link on the left or the tag at the bottom of a post.

 

 

Friday
Jun132014

Depression and ECT 50: Coping

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

So I don't check, at lunch time, with my friend that it's still ok to drive over to Oakland to see her and her new baby, so I set off from San Francisco and I'm across the bridge when I hear she's back at hospital with a jaundiced newborn. This is after turning the wrong way down a one way street in SF because the TomTom can't calibrate where I am.

So I pull off the highway, find somewhere to stop and contact my SF friend that I'm supposed to see later, to ask if I can come hang at his house.

I put the address in the TomTom to come back to SF, and the bridge has a toll and I have no cash so now I have a $25 fine.

I simply cannot take the stress of this kind of thing. I was sobbing as I was driving. I just don't have normal coping skills. I'm handicapped. And I don't use that word lightly. I mean no disrespect to people with physical disabilities but the reality is - there's no doubt about it - I have a mental one.

I can't just zip off in the hire car without needing a Xanax and getting panicked anyway.

This is not who I was two years ago. I don't know who this new person is and I just don't know what she can and can't handle and I seem to constantly make mistakes and push too hard, with horrible consequences.

On the other hand, is it too much to ask to be able to drive half an hour in city traffic to see a friend without cracking? Seriously?

Is this what I'm reduced to now? A homebody? Inside my meditation-yoga-walking-35 hour working week with no variation?

Must I go to weekly therapy, meditate every day and do yoga 5 times a week just to maintain a state of ridiculous fragility?

Is this a temporary thing? Will it get better with time?

Or do I need to change my meds... AGAIN?

Sometimes I get so tired of this.

For more posts in this series, click the Depression and ECT category on the left.

Sunday
Jun082014

Depression and ECT 49: The positively wonderful US of A

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

We've been watching British TV all weekend and it's making me homesick. I'm particularly struck by the portrayal of a lack of political correctness and lots of calling a spade a spade. I miss that.

On the other hand I can't help but wonder if the relentless positivity in the US has, in some small way, helped me with my depression. Having to greet everyone with a light voice, keeping conversation light... It might be a small balm that helps keep the darkness at bay.

Who knows?

Sunday
Jun082014

Depression and ECT 48: Mindful and kind

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

Yesterday I had a phone call with a school friend I haven't spoken to in over ten years. We were reminiscing about little things, like walking home from school every day together.

This morning I was beating myself up for something stupid I had done and simultaneously getting sad about my childhood memories and wishing I had paid more attention to enjoy those times when they happened.

And that's when it hit me.

Going forward, to avoid regrets and feelings of loss, what I need to do is two simple things: be mindful and be kind.

Saturday
May172014

Depression and ECT 47: Sympathetic vs. Parasympsthetic

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.


I'm becoming increasingly tired of being in Fight or Flight mode with the Sympathetic system engaged, rather than Rest and Digest mode, with the Parasympathetic system engaged.

We have evolved far beyond needing to use Fight/Flight all the time yet we condition ourselves to live with it's grip: sports, dramas on TV, yelling at other drivers, competitions like The Voice... Everything is constantly spiking our adrenaline and we think that the excitement that comes with that stress makes life interesting.

Instead, we should be calm, and finding ways to experience pure joy. Positive joy. Peaceful joy.

Watching comedies and eating treats are the closest we get. And spending time with loved ones.

I'm starting to question sitting in front of TV with dramas spiking my adrenaline for hours at night without executing the physical action that would give an outlet to those chemicals on my body.

Solution?

Find more comedies on TV. Or read a book. I'm considering going back to read my anthology of Dickens...

Monday
May122014

Yoga: On Aging

Our yoga teacher today said she's tired of seeing the term "anti-aging."

Anti-aging cream.
Anti-aging lotion.
Anti-aging sunscreen.

First, as she rightly said, nothing is anti-aging. It might DELAY aging, but that's it. And that shouldn't be our goal anyway. We should EMBRACE aging.

In France they call it La Troisieme Age - the third stage of life. It's not necessarily presented as a negative thing. It's just a reality. To be enjoyed, respected and faced without denial.

My mother always told me: "Grow old gracefully." She set the example by dressing appropriately for her age, wearing subtle makeup and never overdoing her hair.

The most revolting example I see of women who refuse to age is when they compete with their daughters. I have a friend who told me she went home from university for the weekend and, when her mother opened the door, they were wearing the same dress.

Our yoga teacher told us she's never felt so good in her life. She's strong, flexible and nothing hurts. Yoga nurtures her body, mind and spirituality.

She inspired me today because, like me, she started yoga in her forties. She's now 64 and I am going to be like her in 20 years - able to do the splits!!!

Go yoga!

Monday
May052014

Depression and ECT 46: Joy

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

Today in yoga we worked towards being able to do the Splits. I don't think anyone has said "the Splits" to me in years. It feels amazing to work towards things I was last able to do in my pre-teen body. Somehow it strangely makes me feel younger. And it's so inspiring to see our teacher, who is definitely over 60, ease into perfect Splits in front of me. That will be me in a year or two.

During our relaxation at the end of class, the teacher read this quote from Andre Gide: "Know that joy is rarer, more difficult, and more beautiful than sadness. Once you make this all-important discovery, you must embrace joy as a moral obligation."

Then, as we took our final seat she said: "Just settle into joy. Settle in to the knowledge that everything is OK."

This was a very powerful moment for me. Just sitting and admitting, accepting, savoring that, in that moment, things were OK. It felt like a revelation.

Sunday
May042014

Hell is Other People: No , it's NOT Your Turn

So let me get this straight.

The gate lady announces that individuals with mobility problems and parents with children under two may board the plane. And you get up and stand at the start of the queue space, in the way. So a ***woman on crutches*** has to wobble her way around you.

Then the gate lady says first class may board. Again, everyone has to walk around you to get to the boarding pass check desk.

Then you decide to walk all the way up to the desk after the first class people, as the gate announcer says it's MVP Frequent Flyer time to board. So you step to either side, you and your husband, now framing the Boarding Pass check desk, so we all have to sandwich ourselves between you to board.

You are too stupid to live.

That is all.

Hell is other people.


To read more posts like this, click the Category Tag below.

Friday
May022014

Hell is other people - Airplane Arseholes

So the two women next to me on the plane are talking really loudly.

She went to her friend's wedding , you see, and her friend, like, seated her with her mother and asked if it would be OK because, you know, and she was like, Missy, it's YOUR wedding and my problems with my mother are my own and...

I said "Excuse me but I'm really having trouble not hearing your conversation and it's none of my business. Could you please lower your voice so I'm not snooping on your life?"

"Oh that's OK," she said.

Then they whispered something to each other (isn't it funny how they can manage to be quiet if they don't want me to hear something). Then they carried on talking as loud as before.

I'm considering telling them to write a thank you letter to Pfizer, because the Xanax I took just saved their bad mannered little lives.

Hell is other people.

If you want to read more vitriolic spewing postings like this, click the category Tag below.

Monday
Apr212014

Depression and ECT 45: What depression is really like

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

Let me educate you.

I have been fighting my illness every hour of every day since it got really serious six months ago, but I also know I've had this all my life. I fight and I fight and I fight and I fight. And anyone you know with depression is fighting too.

What is depression like?

First, the feeling. It’s a feeling that comes unbidden, that won’t respond to rational thought, and that grows and grows until you feel like it’s all there is.

“I know I have a good life,” I snapped at my husband a few weeks ago. “I just wish it would FEEL good.”

That’s the important thing to realize. It’s not that you’re tired and some caffeine will wake you up. It’s not that your back aches and a painkiller will help you. It’s a feeling that won’t quit.

The feeling includes anger, sadness, grief, hopelessness, fatigue, pain. Then there's being mentally stuck in one place in your head and sometimes physical inability to move. Everything looks, tastes, sounds, smells and feels like crap.

I’ve had days when I stood in the shower and sobbed for fifteen minutes, days when I simply could not leave my house, days when I realized I'd been sitting on the toilet staring into space for twenty minutes and I didn't know why and days when I yelled at someone at work and had to apologize profusely, which doesn’t change the fact that it’s a Career Limiting Move.


Second, the voices.

You know that little voice in your head that criticizes you? We all have it. We beat ourselves up for doing something stupid, or tell ourselves we’re not capable of doing task X or Y.

But a positive attitude or even temporary mental kick in the pants dismisses the voice, right?

Not for people with depression.

My voice doesn't stop. And it can’t be dismissed. It's a demon on cocaine, it sees constant opportunities to torture me and it's got a lot of creative things to say.

Then I have the voice that tells me scary stories. "The house is burning down and your husband is dead" it says to me in the middle of getting my lunch in the work canteen. "Your sister has been in a car accident and is in hospital." "Your dog has cancer."

Of course what it is saying is ludicrous. But the problem is that, at the moment you hear those things, they FEEL like they are true. It’s as if my intuition has been hijacked by a sociopathic sadist. Dismissing what the voice says takes a lot of mental energy. And sometimes I can’t do it until I’ve made a phone call to my husband or texted my sister, just in case.


Third, the convictions.

There are two very, very strong convictions.

Conviction A is that nothing has any point. Everything is hopeless. It’s all a stupid waste of time, boring, repetitive and ultimately just leads to death anyway.

Conviction B is that I am worthless. The work I do makes no real contribution to anything of value. I'll never lose weight or get physically fit. My friends tolerate me, but really I’m no fun at all.

So if you add up convictions A and B, I might as well die, right? All this suffering would be over, my family would eventually get over it and my husband would spend a year grieving and then find a wife that wasn’t such a burden and he could be the one being looked after for a change.

I know the building I would jump off, I know how to get there and I know what letters I need to write before I do. Conviction B leads to flawless logistical planning.


To understand depression, you need to grasp two things:

1) Depression is a physical disease. It’s a chemical imbalance, it’s genetic, and it affects the genome (look it up).
2) Depression is a disability. Like cancer, there is no cure. You can be in remission, you can be malignancy free, but it’s always there. Always. It’s a condition that has to be managed for life.



So how do I manage mine?

I had ECT (look it up). I take five pills every day. I meditate every week day morning. I do yoga five times a week. I’ve reduced my alcohol intake to almost zilch. I’m working very hard to eat in a healthy way. I am in weekly therapy. I do pranayama breathing exercises. I practice mindfulness not only to allow my brain to rewire (look it up) and relax, but to be able to spot an episode of sociably unacceptable behavior before it hits me, so I can pop a Xanax, relax and behave normally.

I need to have the discipline of a professional athlete. Oh sure, skipping yoga, just for today – doesn’t matter does it? It’s just one day.

And then I find myself sobbing in the restroom the next day because I saw a post on Facebook about the Honor Flight and someone explained to me what it is (look it up). Forgetting to take my pills? That will be a day on the couch fatigued and crying and having to take a sick day from work.

So I’ve had to face this disease/disability and accept that I need to work hard to be sane. That’s just how it is.


That’s my story of depression. Maybe yours is different. But this is how I live with it. Every hour of every day.

To read more posts like this, click the category tag below.

Monday
Apr142014

Puppy Talk - Going Potty

Mom.

Mom.

Mom.

I'm lying here facing the back door, Mom. I'm asking to go out. It's pretty clear.

Mom.

Mom.

Stop watching the little people in the Always Bright Window and let me out.

Mom.

Mom.

Oh, thank God. Yes, Mom. I. Want. To. Go. Out. Yes. Open the door.

Thank you! Finally!

Mmmmm, nice breeze. What's wafting through the air? Sniffsniff.... sniffsnif...

What?

Aw, Mom, you ruined it.

You know, I just want to check out my little spot where I can see down the side of the house to the street. Just a quick check. Gotta see what's going on out there, protect the den, you know. Now let me see...

Empty street.

Mmph...

Better keep looking. You never know what might happen.

What? Oh yes, Mom, I came out to potty Thanks for reminding me.

OK, where should I pee?

Ooh, that's an interesting smell! I think there was a squirrel here! What the...? Gotta sniff this... Sniff it... Sniff it...

What?

Sniff it...

OK, OK, Mom, stop yelling. And no, it ISN'T that cold out here.

Ohhhh kaaaay. I'm gooooooing potteeeeeeeeee.

OK, here's the spot--- Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

There we go! That didn't take long! Why are you scowling, Mom?


Want to read more posts like this? Click the category tag below.

Thursday
Mar202014

Depression and ECT 44: Real love

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

I've asked She's So Lovely, my psychologist, if we can go back to weekly appointments. We were doing every two weeks, and then I didn't see her for a while because she was sick, and I found myself telling inappropriately personal stories to my colleagues. Because I wasn't actually working through the issue, I kept telling the same story to different people.

So I contacted her and begged for an appointment and asked if we could go back to more frequent meetings.

And so I saw her again this week.

She asked me how things were with Fluffy Bear and I told her how we were doing.

"I think he really loves you," she said.

"I know. I know how lucky I am. It's unbelievable," I said.

"What's unbelievable?" she asked.

"That he loves me so much. That he would go through all this depression stuff with me."

"You have a lot of positive traits that make you lovable," she said. "You're generous, you're thoughtful-- I don't have to list them. But there are many."

"Yes," I said, "but I also have so many flaws."

"Love doesn't focus on flaws," she said.

In that moment, I tried to think of Fluffy Bear's flaws.

And nothing came to mind.

Thursday
Mar202014

Depression and ECT 43: The fragile progress

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

I went to therapy for the first time in weeks yesterday. Illness has meant I wasn't able to see my therapist, and it was really starting to get to me. I found myself telling inappropriately personal stories to my colleagues because I wasn't able to talk them through and get closure with her. I was using people at work as quasi therapists which, of course, they aren't, and so I found myself telling the same story again and again to different people. Thank God I was able to have a session yesterday.

I think the primary realization I came to during the hour discussion is that things are better, but I am too scared to believe they are.

I am doing yoga five times a week, I am meditating every morning and I am coming off one of my drugs, but it's all such early days that it can't be called a routine yet. The fact that I feel slightly better and that my depression symptoms, although there, have less intensity, is true, but it hasn't been long enough for me to believe that this is the new normal.

I think that is also why I reacted so badly to the bully who yelled at me in yoga class. The nurturing I get from yoga is such a novelty, my belief in it so fragile, that she shattered a precious thing that I thought I had found, my refuge.

So this morning I took some time to meditate on the chant "I am open to the possibility that my life can be better."

And I suppose I am.

Sort of.

Tuesday
Mar182014

Depression and ECT 42: Meditation and the Squirrel

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

I haven't been sleeping that well lately, in spite of having prescription drugs to help me. I struggled to fall asleep last night, and my dreams in the morning are strange and seem to wake me up. I think I might have a natural body clock to wake at 6am, even though my alarm is set for 6:30. Or maybe the dogs start moving around because they want breakfast and wake me.

Whatever it is, I woke this morning not feeling rested and actually WANTING to have a longer meditation.

So I set my timer for twenty minutes and lit my little scented candle and settled in.

I started by checking in with my feelings. What was I feeling and why?

It's amazing how many layers you can find of things that are bubbling away in your mind, like a big pot of Irish stew.

When I felt I'd identified most of the emotional stuff going on, I started focussing on the breath and counting - in for a count of three, out for a count of three. For some reason, at the top and the bottom of the breath, my brain said "San-gee-ta." WTH? I know it's a name, but I have no idea why it was in my head and why I was using it as a rhythmn. Apparently the name means "Musical." I just looked it up.

Eventually I wanted to hold at the top and bottom of the breath for longer so counted three in each case, and was able to let go of repeating Sangeeta.

I was just getting into a real sense of flow when my timer went off.

And so today is officially the first day that mediation felt easier, and that I felt I could do it for longer. And I feel really good after doing it.

Positive milestone.

YES!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now I want to buy some Orange and Lemon essential oils to put in my shower so I can breathe them in and be energized in the morning, and hopefully I can banish the feelings of dread and the desire to simply crawl back into bed and get to work each morning feeling good.

My psychiatrist gave me the option of not doing ECT this week, and I'm going to give it a try. Fluffy Bear encouraged me to skip the treatment - he says he wants to see how I am without it. So we'll see how it goes.

I found out yesterday that my cousin calls his psychiatrist the Squirrel, because he's someone who collects nuts. Love it.


Sunday
Mar162014

Depression and ECT 41: The Bully

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

Yesterday I had an incredibly unpleasant experience at yoga. No, more than unpleasant. Upsetting. Horrible.

I was going to a very busy yoga class. It's very popular, so there are a lot of people jostling for good spots in the studio, and I like the place near the windows. So the previous class lets out, and we all go in, mingling with the leaving students, putting our stuff into the cubby holes. As I turn from the cubbies, I bump into a woman's mat, which she is holding under her arm.

I immediately say I'm sorry.

"YOU NEED TO BACK OFF!" she snaps at me.

So I think I must have hurt her somehow, and I follow her over to the middle of the room, where she is setting up her yoga mat.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you," I say to her, with a purposely gentle voice.

"YOU HIT ME TWICE!" She's whisper-shouting.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't realize."

"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE! I'M HERE FOR YOGA CLASS!"

"Well," I said, "putting on a really gentle voice, "I'm sorry,"

It's impossible to communicate the aggression and negative energy in her voice and demeanor

There were some acquaintances in the leaving class that I needed to say hello to, so I kept my cool while I greeted them, but I was starting to fall apart. Once they had left I walked to a quiet place in the stairwell, and by this stage I was sobbing. I called Fluffy Bear but he didn't answer.

I just don't think someone with clinical depression can handle a confrontation like that, especially when it's completely unsolicited and one sided.

I pulled myself together and made myself go back to the studio, but I tears were dripping down my face for at least the first third of the class.

At the end of the class, I stayed at my mat, hoping to avoid her as I left, but then saw her talking to the yoga teacher, so I started to move to put my props back and clean my mat. A woman I've spoken to a few times at the studio came up to me and said "Do you need a hug?" which of course made me start crying again. I told her no, it would make things worse, but thanked her.

I drove home crying and basically did not calm down until Fluffy Bear had hugged me for a long time.

Yoga has become a big part of my life. And I have started to talk to people at the studio and become a regular. I feel like that woman ruined my safe place.

And yes, I get that she obviously has some kind of mental issues, like I do, and that I shouldn't take on her crap. It's hers, not mine. But that doesn't make me feel any more safe or less upset.

I'm anxious about going back to the studio and I'm anxious about seeing her again.

I expected her to realize her mistake and come and apologize to me at the end of class. The fact that she didn't makes me think that she has a seriously twisted perception and I'm wondering if she is a bully. That's all I fucking need right now.

Thursday
Mar132014

Depression and ECT 40: Morning routine

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.


I have a new morning routine.

The alarm goes off, I get up and feed the dogs and then I get back into bed and practice mindfulness. Another alarm goes off half an hour after the first, and then I get up for real.

The mindfulness I practice is simply checking in with myself. How do I feel, what happened yesterday, what's on the agenda today, and how do I feel about all of it. I just try to get in touch with my emotions.

Sometimes I get out of bed and go and sit on cross legged on the sofa, light a scented candle and concentrate on counting my breaths in and out for ten minutes.

Either way, I'm doing my best to start each morning with ten minutes of some form of meditation, however light and however short.

I'm trying.

Friday
Mar072014

Depression and ECT 39: A difficult morning

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.


It's Sunday night and I'm petrified.

I'm scared that I am going to wake up tomorrow morning and not be able to go to work. Again.

This last week I skipped work on Monday and on Friday.

With all the time off I've had for ECT, I know that my boss must be getting tired of me not being in the office.

What if I feel it again tomorrow? That fear, that sense of being totally overwhelmed.

I keep trying to reassure myself that it's not going to happen but of course that's something I can't guarantee. I know that I have to find a way to deal with the feelings, get through them, get into the shower and start my routine so that I do manage to get to work. Once I'm there, there's a 90% chance I'll be fine.

I was thinking about this on Friday and reminding myself that other people have days when they don't want to go to work too.

We all have our crap to deal with.

Maybe it's my expectations of a crap free life that are out of whack. Maybe people around me aren't fine like they look. Maybe I've got to play this life game like everyone else.

Is it really harder for me, or am I using my depression as an excuse for wussing out when I should be overcoming, like everyone else does?

Instinctively I know that it IS harder for me. I have brain chemicals that are out of balance. But it doesn't mean that it's ALWAYS so bad that I have to take the day off. And it doesn't mean that it's always ten times worse than what "normal" people go through. I need to find a way to deal with this.

-------

After this blog post my husband asked me, as I got into bed, if I was OK and I said No and told him why. He suggested that he get up with me in the morning and that I take some time first thing to meditate.

And so, after brushing my teeth, I lit my candle and sat myself down and just thought through how I felt and what I felt. I explored my fears and doubts and pain. At one point Puppy Girl started licking my face and I just let that happen.

[ BTW to read more about the dogs, click the category link on the left. ]

I needed to reset my timer for a second block of ten minutes because I felt I wasn't finished after the first. But I guess I mulled over everything and was able to get myself motivated to face my day. Embrace my day. OK, maybe not quite that far.

As I stood up to go and get ready, Fluffy Bear gave me a big hug and I clung to him for dear life. I prayed, with my arms wrapped around him, that he stay healthy and safe. A prayer for purely selfish reasons but a prayer nonetheless.

I made it through the shower and the hairdryer and the choice of shirt. As I left the house, with the dogs at the front door, I desperately wanted to go back inside and just spend the day with them, but I kept walking.

And now here I am on the bus and I'm mostly OK.

Mostly.

Friday
Mar072014

Depression and ECT 38: Pointlessness and the day I couldn't go to work

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html
#depression
#ECT


Another symptom is back: the feeling of pointlessness.

My work colleagues seem banal, my work projects seem petty, my life seems inconsequential.

Who really cares if we improve the process for some tedious internal task at the office?

Who cares if we set bonus goals for the year? Isn't it all just a game, anyway?

Who cares if we go out to dinner on Saturday as a group with friends? So what? The same jokes, the same conversation.

I felt this way all of yesterday. I dived into work as a distraction, but without any faith in any of my actions having any significance.

I'm not going to work today. I supposed I could have gone if I had got my internal cheerleader or my internal drill Sargeant to get me going. But, frankly, as I sit here typing this, having decided to stay home, I'm actually starting to feel worse... tearful.

I was very concerned yesterday when the feeling of pointlessness surfaced. Yet another symptom rearing its ugly head. Do I need to have ECT every week to control my depression? Unfortunately that's not possible. But, as we taper off treatments, more and more symptoms come back, like old roommates you thought you'd got rid of, knocking at the door with their bags in hand.

This is the thing about depression that I think a lot of people don't understand. It's very difficult to employ a positive attitude or motivate yourself when there's an undeniable FEELING. It's like telling someone to put their ski gear on and head for the slopes for a long cross-country trail when they feel incredibly hot. They feel hot. They just do. How can they put a bunch of gear on? How can they face a long trail that's going to make them sweat even more?

You feel what you feel with depression. To some extent, you can control what you THINK, but you feel what you feel.

I feel what I feel.

And I feel like crap.

So I'm going to spend the day in front of TV knitting and go to yoga this afternoon. And that's it. That's all I can handle.

Friday
Feb282014

Depression and ECT 37: Taking it slow

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html
#depression
#ECT


I did something different this morning... I got up slowly.

I woke up at 6 and fed the dogs, then went back to bed. I lay there for a while, then called Fluffy Bear overseas to catch up with him. Then I threw the ball for Puppy Girl a bit, and then I lay on the floor with Puppy Dog on his bed and gave him side neck scritches that he loves.

Then I ambled into the bathroom to start the morning ablution routine.

It's a really interesting feeling to not hurtle out of bed to the toothbrush, but to behave as if I'm on vacation. I like this feeling. It's worth waking up half an hour earlier to do this.

Ambling awake.

I like it.

Wednesday
Feb262014

Depression and ECT 36: Strange longings and new books

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html
#depression
#ECT


It feels weird not to have ECT for so long. It won't be two weeks for another two days but still, when it was such a huge part of my life having treatments three times a week, it feels strange to taper off like this. I got to know the nursing staff, we knew where we liked to park in the parking garage, it was a routine. And now it's gone.

I sound like a nutter, I know.

Missing a medical treatment where a needle got stuck in my arm and anesthetic that burned got pumped into me. Ridiculous.

In other news, I'm reading an interesting book called The Antidote - Happiness for People Who Can't Stand Positive Thinking. I'm not that far into it, but there's already been an interesting premise put forward that I have put into practice today.

The book talks about the Stoics, who contend that events simply are what they are, and we cause ourselves pain by conflating our emotional response to the event with the event itself.

Hang on, I have to look up Conflating and make sure it means what I think it means.

Yes, it does.

Anyway.

Are the other drivers on the roads idiots, the book asked, or is it that you THINK they are?

And so today I tried not to detest every other driver I encountered on my way home. "Everyone is just trying their best," I told myself. I'm not saying that I believed it throughout the journey (one woman really was a total dolt), but it did reduce my stress levels.

The book is a very interesting read. As I get into it more, I'll blog more about it.

Wednesday
Feb262014

Depression and ECT 35: Feeling better

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html
#depression
#ECT


Well of course today I feel better.

My inner voice, in the shower, was saying things like: "NOTHING can break my inner spirit!"

This is the one thing that gives me hope. No, not the inner voice thing, but that the lows don't last. Even though more and more Depression symptoms are creeping back into my life, they still don't last as long as they used to.

A small ray of hope.

But I'll take it.