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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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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.

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.