“Step 2 ~ Supportive Care”

Down at the end of the hall were the ominous, locked double doors that separated the “Crisis Care” ward of T1, from the “Supportive Care” of T2.

This was the door to freedom.

Each time we heard the loud clunk of it opening, all the patients would look longingly at the people coming in and going out. Because the people moving through this door had something we all wanted ~ freedom.

After nearly a week of existing in the prison of T1, I was finally called to the nurses station and given the news that I had graduated to “Supportive Care” (Otherwise known as T2) It was late at night — 10:00pm. An unusual time for a patient transfer so it completely took me off guard. Suddenly, after days of pacing the halls and reciting the mantra in my head “I can’t wait to get out of here and move to T2,…” the time had finally come. I collected what few belongings I had and walked behind the nurse towards the doors. But in doing so, I found myself feeling a bit apprehensive. As boring and uncomfortable as T1 was, it had strangely become my bubble of security. Nothing was expected of me here so I had settled into a comfortable peace. No stress. Just a calm and quiet environment in which I was told to do nothing but heal.

But now I was taking my first steps to my next level of recovery. I felt a light stirring of fear. Fear of the start of my journey of taking responsibility. Hmmm,…. Now that it was here I wasn’t sure I was ready. But I put that all aside and dutifully picked up my bag and followed the nurse through the doors to what was commonly called “The Other Side” ~ Trillium 2.

With no personal grooming for nearly a week I probably looked a bit worse for wear. I certainly felt like I had been through a battle. So I was a bit embarrassed and a lot self-conscious as I passed through the doors walking straight into the patient lounge of 20 curious people. All eyes turned to me. I felt awkward. I kept my eyes averted as I followed the nurse to my new room.

My room was a double. My room-mate couldn’t have been more different from myself. A very young, strikingly beautiful Muslim girl. That took me by surprise although I don’t know why. I guess I was expecting a more middle-aged woman like the ones I had befriended in T1. It once again reminded me of how unbiased this disease of mental illness was. Not caring what age, gender, race or religion you were. It affected everybody from all walks of life. She gave me a shy hello before scurrying out leaving me alone in my new surroundings.

This ward allowed a more relaxed and comfortable atmosphere. I now had my own closet and drawers. (No more locked cupboard!) We were allowed everything but “sharps” now which meant I could keep everything I had except my razor. I unpacked what little I had and sat on my bed. I had been given my phone back so I plugged that in to charge it right away. I was anxious to text Michelle and Hayley. To finally have my life-line to the outside world was exhilarating to me.

T2 had a simple system of 5 privileges. When I first arrived I was at the first level. “Ward”. This meant that I was confined to this unit only. Meals were brought to me and eaten at the long wooden table in the lounge. I didn’t mind. It was a much more comfortable setting than T1. Leather chairs to relax in and a TV that wasn’t covered by a scratched up piece of Plexiglas.

The second level, which I received by my doctor the next day, was “Ward with Manor Patio”. This was what all the patients coming from T1 covet. To finally get to go outside! I could now go to the sidewalk at the front of the building which is where all the smokers hung out. Or I could go out back to a large patio. This is where I preferred to go as it was a no smoking zone and usually empty. We were allowed outside to either of these places for 15 minute intervals once per hour. We had to sign in and out when we used this privilege so our assigned nurse for the day always knew where you were.

I was one of the lucky patients who was given the level 3 privilege after only 4 days. (It’s usually 2 weeks before any patient receives this,… I must have been a good girl!) This was “House”. Now I could go anywhere inside the hospital unaccompanied by staff. I loved this new privilege. I enjoyed meandering aimlessly through all the many halls. It was at this level that I discovered just how big and beautiful this hospital was. I never tired of exploring it.

Now I was allowed to go to the cafeteria for all my meals. I was pleasantly surprised at how good the food was here. All the patients would come to the cafe at the designated meal times of 7:30am,…. 11:30am,… and 4:30pm,… like dutiful cows to the trough. Meal times are a big deal here. In a sequestered world where there’s not a lot to do looking forward to meals was a good pass-time. We all clock-watched so we’d never be late for one.

And finally Thursday I was given level 4 privilege of “Grounds”. Grounds was the best. Now I was permitted to walk around the hospital grounds. Acres and acres of lovely gardens and forest. I spent a lot of my spare time outside after that. I had discovered this little get-away. Hidden behind our ward was this magnificent veranda. With peeling paint and lovely old features I claimed it as my own. I spent hours there snuggled up in a big muskoka chair reading or writing in my mandatory journal. I had to admit, It almost felt like a vacation.

Almost,…..

Homewood

“The hospital was on a hill outside of town the way hospitals are in movies about the insane. Our hospital was famous and had housed many great poets and singers. Did the hospital specialize in poets and singers or was it that poets and singers specialized in madness”                                                                                                                                                                                                             — Susanna Kaysen ~ “Girl, Interrupted”

August 4th 2011  — I entered Homewood

A world-renowned hospital for the criminally insane (just kidding,…)  Homewood health Centre. A psychiatric hospital,… A big, rambling, slightly creepy old place. Steeped in history the labyrinth of halls and stairs and wings, told many a tale of human suffering, recovery and health. Built in stages over 128 years, It’s a maze of deep slanting corridors, crooked wings sticking out of halls that never seem to end. A rambling puzzle. Sectioned into different wards. All geared to different psychiatric conditions. Mental illness,… addiction,…eating disorders,… Locked doors separating each.And each ward a small community. I often wonder how many people have roamed these halls over the 128 year lifespan of this majestic building. (If only these walls could talk,… what stories they could tell,…)

When I first arrived I was taken to Trillium 1. (T1) A ward geared to patients in crisis. Most of us arrived from hospitals from all across Canada. By ambulance,…by police,…by taxi’s. (One celebrity even arrived by private plane a week before me!) all having suffered a mental breakdown of some degree. I was admitted as a prescription meds overdose. This ward was not fun. Here,.. you are not allowed belts, strings or cords. They are removed from all your clothes by the nurse when you first arrive. Hair dryers, flat irons and make-up are not allowed either. After 3 days of no personal grooming I had begun to resemble Gene Simmons!

I spent three tedious, mind-numbingly boring days on this ward. With only a TV to keep me occupied. I had brought a book but it was a hard cover — not allowed. It’s considered a weapon. (We may try to bash each other up-side the head???) So it was confiscated. So I sat on a hard plastic chair watching mundane TV shows. Hour after hour, the whole time I was there. I am now wondering if at some time boredom was used as an ancient medieval torture as it nearly drove me mad!!

The ceiling light was never shut off in your room. Sleep alluded me night after night as it frustratingly glared down at me. Nurses checked I was still alive and kicking every hour.

For the first few days I suffered from withdrawals. After years and years of many different meds fed to my system my body now started to rebel when my blood stream cleared. Sweats, nausea and other not-so-pretty symptoms claimed my body. I tried to endure it stoically (and drug free) but it wasn’t a fun time at all. I was relieved when it was finally over. Now — 12 days later — I feel so clear. Life is now in sharp focus and vivid colours.

When I was finally deemed “de-toxed” I was upgraded to the Trillium 2 ward (T2)

(will continue next entry,…)

 

Been Missing In Action….

Well, I know you have probably been wondering where I’ve gotten to…….

I have checked myself into Homewood for some R & R ~ Rest and Rehab.  I am just home for a few hours on a pass. But once I’m back & settled in I will go to the libraries computers and sit down and write a new post. It’s been an eventful few weeks….

 

Another middle of the night post

 Despite yesterdays upbeat post I am still struggling tonight. I think I was on a kind of high all day yesterday as I was so pleased to finally have someone validate how I feel and that I don’t have bipolar. But when I woke up this morning, reality set in. OK… I don’t have bipolar. But I still have a lot of issues and I am still mentally ill. Knowledge didn’t vaporize the way I am feeling still.
My depression is so severe I cannot function anymore. I don’t even want to.
Then there was the woman telling me that she is certain I have deep-seeded trauma that has yet to surface which is causing my depression and agoraphobia and anxiety and it’s made me “shut down & disappear from life”.  I really don’t remember anything.
I was adopted when I was 15 months old. I lived the real “Leave it to Beaver” lifestyle. My parents were loving, never fought, never drank, we went to Church every Sunday. I tried telling this woman that I think she’s wrong but she swears that something went wrong somewhere in my life.
Well if nothing bad happened post-adoption, then that leaves before my adoption. I was born to an 18 yr old who girl who enjoyed her party’s. I lived in the family home with Grandma, Mom and with 7 Aunts and Uncles who were apparently not the most easy children to discipline. Grandma didn’t have a hope in hell of controlling any of them. So… OK….maybe this woman is right. Maybe bad things did happen to me in my first year and a half of life in my biological home. (I don’t think there’s a way I can ever find out now that so many years have passed)
But here’s the thing. Can you really be so affected by trauma you don’t even remember happened? I was a baby and remember NOTHING. Could I still be subconsciously feeling the effects?
She says “definitely”. So she has agreed to have me come to her once a week and we are going to get to the bottom of this. Trouble is… I don’t have the energy. It sounds like a lot of painful stuff could come up and quite frankly I am just too depressed right now to care or work at it. I’m done.
She told me I need to look up “Emotion regulation developmental trauma” on the Internet. Emotion… what???? Never heard of it. It makes me wonder if these doctors and counselors really know what they are doing or are they digging for stuff that just isn’t there. I can’t decide. Maybe I’m just too frightened to even go there. Maybe nothing happened at all.
Regardless of all that……
I have a different problem tonight. (Or should I say this morning as it is after 1:00am now) I cannot for the life of me sleep!!! I need to have a good long sleep tonight. But unfortunately that doesn’t seem to be happening. For three nights now I just can’t fall asleep. I don’t have any meds to take to make me sleep either. I’m at the point where I want to smack my head with a 2 x 4 just to knock me out so I can get some rest. (Don’t worry, won’t actually do that….) I guess it’s another night of warm milk,… melatonin,… relaxation CD…and graval. And to lie awake in bed hour after hour wishing my mind would just STOP and let me sleep. My doctor stopped my anxiety meds two weeks ago and I don’t think I’m adjusting well not having them. I have been taking them for years so for her to just stop them all of sudden I think has screwed up my body and sleep. Maybe in a few weeks my body will adjust and I’ll start sleeping better. Kind of coincidental isn’t it? Usually I’m so drugged I can’t function. Come on body…. What’s it going to be??? Insomnia or tranquillization?????? Just decide already because I’m really, really tired!!!

Another 4 O’Clock in the morning ramble

I had a not-too-bad day today. My first appointment with the Trellis Mental Health Centre was this afternoon. I didn’t know what to expect so I kind of worried myself into a state of anxiety the night before and couldn’t sleep at all. But it went well. I’m not sure what the lady I had the assessment with was (counselor, doctor???) but I like her a lot. My 20 minute appointment ended up being well over an hour long. She had received a lot of my paperwork ahead of time from Doctors, social workers and even had copies of my Children’s Aid stuff from my adoption way back in 1965!! which she had requested weeks ago and I sent to her. And she had taken the time to read it all before I even had my first appointment with her. I liked that. Most people I have dealt with over the years just skim my charts and throw medication at me. I definitely felt like just another “chart” to them. But this woman really seemed to want to help and did all her homework in able to do that. FINALLY….. Someone is listening to me. My move to Fergus this spring looks like it could have been the best thing I’ve done. First I land a great Family Doctor (thanks to my sister-in-law who managed to get my doctor to take me on as a new patient ~ I was lucky as otherwise it could have been a long wait for a GP). She has been listening to me and taking a lot of time with me. No family doctor has ever been so caring and supportive. (win!) And it was her (my new family doctor) that got me hooked up with Trellis. She even called them herself to ensure that I got in right away. My first app’t was supposed to be August 30th which my doctor really felt was too far away. So she personally called over there herself to get me in right away. Having this new-found care has really given me hope that we can now start from scratch and take the time to get a proper diagnoses (No doctors have ever agreed with each other on what my diagnoses is so I have ended up with many…) All of my adult life I have seen many different doctors and I have been told I have many different mental illnesses. I think,… and I’m no doctor here… but I think I have depression. Not Bipolar…Not BPD… not OCD….or any of the other dozen or so ‘types’ that have been thrown around in my charts for the past 30 years.

So,… (yup, kinda got off track there sorry…) I was really pleased to hear that she absolutely agreed with me that I should go for a thorough evaluation that will, once and for all, discover what it is I really DO have. The reason this is so important is because I need to be taking the right medication that helps for that specific illness.

This being said…. Imagine how relieved I was when this woman told me that in no way do I have bipolar. Hallelujah!! I could have wept with relief. I have been telling doctors for 10 years that I really don’t feel that this was the right diagnosis but they all insisted I did. Now,… finally…. Someone agrees with me.  I don’t know why doctors found it so difficult to know I wasn’t bipolar. I never have the “highs” your suppose to get with this disease. I have only ever been depressed so how is that bipolar?

Anyway,… went off track again…

This woman also told me I had…. Oh God, dare I say it? The “a” word. I have been mulling this around in my head for the past 3 years but didn’t even want to go there but she said it. Agoraphobia. Yup, there it is, the mental illness that doesn’t allow people to leave their homes. There are obviously different degrees of this illness so in my mind I guess I thought agoraphobics NEVER leave their homes. (Which isn’t me) I leave my apartment, although rarely, if I need to. I can go grocery shopping or to the bank or to my brothers house. But I can’t go anywhere where I might have to interact with people I don’t know. My comfort zone is my apartment and that is about the only time I’m comfortable. Once “out in the world” my anxiety rises so high it’s very unnerving and overwhelming to me. I have basically been a ‘recluse’ for the past 3 years. I spend 90% of my time in my home. I only go out when I need to get groceries or deposit a cheque, etc… and even then it’s a quick trip and then strait home. I have forced myself to go on walks a couple of times a week just to make sure I get outside at least a few times a week. (But I REALLY don’t like to)

This has been a huge problem for me over the past 3 years. My world has shrunk to these four walls of my apartment and a tiny little circle of people who I am comfortable with (My daughters and my brother and sister-in-law and my Aunt) Otherwise, any type of social event has me too anxious and overwhelmed to participate in. My brother was going to be going to the Fergus truck show last weekend. (I had gotten 2 free tickets) so a few weeks ago we planned for me to go with them. But, as always happens, the closer it got to the day, the more freaked out I became. So I cancelled saying it was too hot. I do this ALL THE TIME! Weeks before something I agree to go but as the event or party or whatever gets closer the more anxious I become and I almost always end up making an excuse to not be able to go. And in doing this I have burned a lot of bridges with people because they get fed up with me and eventually just stop calling me or asking me to do anything. I had one friend in St. Thomas who tried so hard to get me out so we could do stuff together but as much as I wanted to, I just couldn’t leave my apartment. This poor girl tried over and over again and in the end she was really hurt because she felt so slighted all the time. She thought SHE had done something wrong and I was just mad at her or disinterest altogether. But I wasn’t mad at her at all. I just wasn’t able to allow myself to do anything outside my home. To this day she still keeps in touch on Facebook. I felt really, really bad for her (and disappointed and upset with myself for not being strong enough to overcome my “outside of my house issues” But really… she’s the only one who hasn’t completely given up on me. I don’t blame people for being so fed up… I’M fed up of myself so I can’t imagine how they all feel!

So yeah,… this has been an eye opener for me. I think I always knew I had this but I just didn’t want to admit it even to myself. I mean come on,… agoraphobia???? Only people on “The Learning Channel” get that… Not me…. But nope… today it was said ~ out loud ~ that I have it. Bad news is… I have just been diagnosed with agoraphobia…. The good news is… It’s apparently highly treatable to overcome.

So with my severe and (very long-standing ~ stubborn) depression (Have had it my whole adult life) and my anxiety and BPD…. I can now add agoraphobia to my list.  But, on the plus side…. I don’t have bipolar. 

So, now that I have admitted this to myself I can hopefully work with this woman to overcome it. So I will be seeing her once a week for counseling. I can’t tell you the relief I feel just knowing that I now have someone supporting/helping me professionally on a constant and regular basis. I haven’t had that in YEARS.

So sick of being sick. :-(

It’s been a while since I last wrote.  I just haven’t been feeling well. My mind is much clearer and healthier than it was a few weeks ago but physically… not so much. For the past month since I started the new medication my doctor put me on, I have been feeling light-headed and ‘detached’. But the worst of it is I have had continued nausea which has been horrible. So all I’ve been able to do is sit on the couch and watch TV. I just don’t want to move due to the awful nausea. I just put it down to the new meds and that it would eventually disappear as I got more used to them. But yesterday I had another appointment with my doctor so I told her everything that was going on. She checked me over and then sent me for blood work. She thinks its my liver. I’ve had problems with it over the past year but I thought things had gotten better over the past few months. But she’s now thinking that this is the problem ~ not my new meds. I just don’t know anymore. All I know is I’m just sick of being sick all the time. I long for a normal life. Be like everyone else. ~ sigh ~

The second thing bothering me is my Seroquel medication. I had run out of it 3 weeks ago so have not been on it. Suddenly I ‘woke up’ The hangover feeling I always have disappeared. I was waking up early every morning and sleeping a LOT less. I didn’t have that tranquillized feeling anymore. It was a nice break. But yesterday the doctor made me go back on it. I was disappointed but she is the doctor and knows best (??) Anyway,… I took my 300mg at 4 in the afternoon. By 6:30pm I couldn’t keep my eyes open and went to bed. I didn’t wake up until 1:30 this afternoon! That means I slept for 19 hours!!  19 hours! That’s ridiculous! Proof that this drug knocks me out. I have been on this drug for about 4 or 5 years and I can’t help feeling like it has robbed me of these past years. All I do is sleep and when I am awake I am so ‘drugged’ I don’t function. So to be told I really do need to stay on it was really disappointing for me.

The good news is that my Trellis app’t came through and I will be seeing them next week. My hope is that once I get myself set up with a psychiatrist I can go into more depth with him about my seroquel problems and maybe we can come to some sort of compromise with another drug. The problem with this is I have no medical coverage of any kind so I can’t afford medication. My doctors get it for me by getting samples from the drug reps. And usually you can only get samples of the most current drug. So one of the reasons I’m on seroquel is that it is an easy drug for the doctors to get from the reps as it seems to be the “in” drug at the moment in the psychiatric field. It’s hard to get a different one. So unfortunately I am kind of stuck between a rock and a hard place when it comes to medications. It really does go back to the “Which is worse? The disease or the side effects of the drugs to combat them?”

Again,…. all I know right now is I’m just sick of being sick.

Working hard to get well after a set back

It’s been a few weeks since I last wrote because things have kind of fallen apart right now and I haven’t wanted to write about it. I had a “set back” that was serious and scary. I have debated whether or not to write about this at all because it is so serious and shows just how much I deteriorated. It’s going to be embarrassing and humiliating to write about but then I decided that the whole point of this blog is to let people know what a person who suffers with mental illness goes through. Good times and bad. So I’ve decided that making people aware of the bad stuff I have often gone through is just as important as sharing the good and positive stuff. So… With that said…

In short… I lost 4 days. I can’t recall them at all. Don’t know what I did or where I went or what happened. It was very bizarre and extremely frightening.

I had been to the doctor two weeks ago and she gave me 2 more medications to take on top of the Seroquel that I already take. I either had a reaction to the medication “cocktail” or maybe double dosed by accident? I don’t know. I just know I “lost it” ~ literally.

Luckily my brother came over at some point to check on me. I barely remember him being there but apparently he was worried so he had. I do remember hallucinating a couple of times which is always scary.  I kind of remember falling ~ hard ~ at some point (and felt sore for a few days afterwards) I mean we are talking BIZARRE and FRIGHTENING stuff here. I last remember June 28^th ( a Tuesday) and then next memory is “coming to” on July 2^nd ( a Saturday). I missed the whole Canada Day Long Weekend. I’m pretty sure it was a drug reaction so as soon as I was able I called my doctor and we talked about changing that. She also recognized that I’m not doing so well living on my own right now and having a difficult time just looking after myself. I had forgotten to pay my rent… deposit my cheque… pay bills… go grocery shopping… I couldn’t manage to do laundry or clean my apartment. Pretty much all I’m doing now is managing to shower and eat. I was very fortunate that my brother and sister-in-law recognized my struggle and they went grocery shopping for me. They have also been coming over regularly to check up on me and make sure I’m safe. But even though those 4 very frightening days have passed,… And I’m now better and safe, I’m still not really doing well. The doctor and I have discussed going into hospital but she is going to try calling the Trellis Mental Health Unit herself to get urgent care set up for me first. Going into hospital isn’t ideal as I have my cat to look after and bills to pay and cheques to deposit, etc,… So being able to stay at home is a better option for me. But obviously I have to do what is safe. So as it stands now, if she can get me care right away we will do that. But if they still can’t set me up with something in the next few weeks then I’ll have to think of going into the hospital.

So things aren’t great right now and I have put off blogging because I’m having such a difficult time coping doing even small stuff. Writing just felt too hard to do for a while. It still does.

So I’m concentrating on fighting hard to stay well and regain my life back once again. So to the people who have been emailing and facebooking asking why they haven’t heard from me, this is why. Please don’t feel offended or overlooked. I’m just finding it too hard to communicate right now. But I thank you all for your concern and care.

 

This is a long one. Best put kettle on

It’s been an eventful week. 

I have been struggling extra hard with my medication and its sedating effects. I can’t seem to get enough sleep (sometimes sleeping up to 12 – 14 hours at a time) and once I’m awake I never feel awake. I feel tranquillized. The drugging effect is making it virtually impossible to function right now.

But I had no choice but to drive out to Newmarket Sunday for a bridal shower for my cousin. So I purposely didn’t take my medication Saturday night because I wanted to be able to make the drive safely – not drugged) This was NOT an obligatory event. I really like this cousin and therefore really wanted to be at this shower. But even though I felt ok setting off, by the time I had driven the 2 hours to get there I could feel the horrible tell-tale signs of a migraine coming on. I did my best to ignore it though and managed to make it through the afternoon.

This shower was a difficult thing for me to attend because right now I’m not in a good place mentally. I find anything social where I have to mingle with people quite difficult. My feelings of depression were quite bad and making the effort to “fake” being well and happy was quite exhausting. I was disappointed it had to be this way because as I mentioned before I really did want to be at this shower and see my cousin, Aunt and another cousin neither whom I had seen in a while. But my deteriorating mental state made it hard for me to muster up any enthusiasm. I honestly just felt flat, sad… depressed. And those feelings ruined the whole event. I only hope I didn’t ruin it for my cousin. I’d feel quite bad if I managed to upset her because of my lack-luster mood. I was so exhausted by the time I got home I went to bed around 9 that evening.

Monday morning at 6:30 I got a text from my sister-in-law saying that her father had passed away during the night. My heart sank when I read it because I know how much this lovely man is going to be missed to my brother and sister-in-law and her family. It was expected after an illness but being expected doesn’t make it any less sad. Poor L*** had just gotten over caring for and grieving for my Mom and now her own Dad passing away. I wanted to go over there and help in any way I could. I wanted to be there for them. But being in such a fragile mental state right now I’m just not able to be much of a support to them. I’m not coping well with anything and find myself unable to function normally because of it. I wanted to be there for them… I just wasn’t able to. And that makes me feel like a failure. In fact, the sedation of this damn Seroquel left me so “hungover”  (downright drugged) that I couldn’t even get out of bed until noon Monday and by the time I had a coffee and shower it was after 3 before I finally even got in touch with either of them. And to me… that’s unacceptable. I dropped the ball on this one and I feel terrible about it.

That same day, I got an email from my ex saying M******* had been admitted into Newmarket hospital. Yes, you read that right… He e-mailed me. (You couldn’t have picked up the phone to call and let me know??) And on top of that, I found out later that she had been in there for 2 days already before he told me. Not even H***** knew until Monday. That was a bit upsetting because I was actually in Newmarket on Sunday afternoon and could have gone to see her. But no one thought to even tell me my own daughter was in hospital.

I’m not going to go into the details of why she’s in there. She has unfortunately inherited the “not so well mentally” gene from me. She, too, struggles with life sometimes. She just got a bit overwhelmed with it all so went into hospital to allow herself to get healthy once again. I have no idea how long she will be in there but as long as she is getting better it doesn’t matter how long it takes. Tuesday I drove out there to see her. I didn’t know how she would feel about that. I was worried that after our little “incident” last week that she may not even want to see me. But she did. And we had a good visit. But I can’t help feeling that I’m the one who pushed her over the edge and caused her to end up in hospital. Obviously we didn’t talk about “the incident” as it wasn’t the time or the place and quite frankly at this point it doesn’t even really matter. All that matters is that we are communicating with each other once again.

This is one aspect of mental illness that I just can’t seem to accept. It’s bad enough that I suffer from these mentally ill diseases. But knowing that I genetically passed it down onto both of my children is really difficult to accept. I know in my head that I didn’t’ do it deliberately and it wasn’t my fault (anymore than it was my own parents fault for passing it down to me) But every time I see either of my girls struggling with their mental health I can’t help but feel really, really guilty. No parent ever wants to see their children suffer with anything let alone something that they more than likely have because of me. The guilt eats away at me.

As for me… as I mentioned earlier I’m finding it hard to function. I can’t seem to concentrate on any one thing right now. My thoughts are all kind of jumbled together so just doing everyday chores is a bit difficult right now. I go to the grocery store but can’t seem to concentrate on what I need to buy and get it all wrong. I make myself a list everyday of what needs to get done. Simple things like laundry… call the doctors… pay the bills…. Make meals… But my mind just isn’t cooperating and I can’t seem to do these things. This is when I find it hard living alone. If I was married I would have a spouse to take care of the stuff that needs doing. But I don’t have anyone. So I really have to push myself and work hard to keep things going. I don’t think I’m explaining this very well. Basically, being very depressed paralyzes you. You get stuck in the “Black Fog’. Your brain seems to shut down. You just can’t function.

I got a call from the Trellis Mental Health facility that my Doctor had put me on a list for (under urgent apparently due to my lack of ability to function properly right now) They said to call them back and I will have to do a 20 minute “intake” Then I will be assessed and called back and told what will happen next. I will be assigned a psychiatrist (finally) and whatever other help or support they feel I will need to help me get better. I got this call on Friday. I still haven’t called them back and it’s already Wednesday night. (This being a perfect example of needing to get something done that’s important but can’t seem to pull myself together enough to accomplish it  ~  Honestly, in the past few weeks, having my shower everyday is my big accomplishment. )

But I’m not giving up. I am pushing really hard to keep going. I want to get better and I know that I am the only one who can make that happen. (OK, with the help of doctors and medication too) Tomorrow is another day. And each day I push through is an accomplishment right? So, tomorrow I will get up early and drive to Newmarket so I can visit with M******* in hospital. She needs me right now and I have to do all I can to make sure I’m there for her.

When I get this overwhelmed with life it’s best not to look at the big picture. I just need to take one day at a time and the future will take care of itself.

I have stumbled

I have stumbled in my struggle to fight this depression.

Right now my mental health is quite fragile and I can only cope if I have no pressure on me at all. I am finding that the only way to get through each day is to set myself small goals to accomplish. Get up… have a shower… make my bed… do dishes… go for a walk, etc… It must seem absurd to a healthy person reading this that these things are even considered difficult to do because to them they just do them automatically without any thought at all. But to someone who is depressed everything becomes a monumental chore. Right now one of the big things I’m contending with is getting out of my apartment. When I’m depressed my apartment becomes my sanctuary. Here there is no stress to cope with. There are no people to have to “fake it” for (which is so exhausting to do).   No one can hurt me in here. Anxiety and depression hold me hostage. But to me… this is a necessary evil because stress and anxiety are so much worse.

It doesn’t help that the medication I am on has me sleeping most of the day. And when I am awake I am left with the dreaded “Seroquel hangover”. This has me feeling like I’m walking through molasses all day. That is why the small everyday tasks become so difficult.

So I guess what I’m trying to say is that right now things are pretty fragile.

So when something happens in my life I don’t seem to be able to cope with it very well. A few days ago something happened that has upset me quite a bit. I can’t really go into what it was because this is a public blog and I would be infringing on people’s privacy if I did as it would be obvious who I was talking about even if I didn’t name any names.

On the whole, the “incident” wasn’t that huge a deal really. Ok, that’s not true… The incident itself wasn’t that big, but the outcome of it was. It really hurt me. It has sent me spiraling back down into depression once again. Right now, I’m not even functioning. I called my Doctors office and they put an urgent rush on my psychiatrist referral and it should only be a matter of days before I hear anything now. In the meantime I’m just to stay home and wait this out. And that is where things are at the moment.

Not a very interesting or cheerful entry today but it’s an honest one.

Just dropping in

Well I’m still struggling. With the descending depression,… but mostly on trying to stay awake! These damn pills I have to take make my eyelids feel 10 pounds and my shoes like lead boots. It’s awful.

But there have been good things going on too. I went and got my hair cut and styled yesterday. First time I’ve been to a proper hair salon in years. (Usually I just go to my cousin or super clips and get trims once every 6 months!). I like it. And it makes it so much easier to take care of when you have a proper cut. Every woman needs a visit to the beauty salon once in a while. It can be a nice pick-me-up.  

 The rain seems to have cleared up and the weather is awesome. It’s not too hot and there’s no humidity which is perfect for me. I only wished it would stay like this for the whole summer. But I am in Canada so I know that will never happen. The dreaded HUMIDITY is on the way. So luckily Glen came over today and measured my window and is going to get my air conditioner installed sometime this weekend. Yeah!! I really don’t know what I would do without him. It’s a huge help him doing that for me. HUGE! I do admit I am a bit of a princess and just can’t live without my air. Aside from the fact that the humidity just zaps the energy out of me it also leaves my hair so frizzy I look like Don Ho!!

Also, I’m going to pick Hayley up from her work tomorrow night and drive her here for the weekend. Definitely looking forward to that. The two of us get up to all sorts when we’re together and no matter what it is we do we always end up laughing and giggling like little girls. (Will miss Michelle though ~ she can’t make it)

Next weekend I go to my cousin T****’s bridal shower. I haven’t seen her or my Aunt D or S**** in ages so I’m really looking forward to that. My Aunt has always been like my best friend and I have been missing her so much. I just live that little bit too far away from her now. But I will just have to make a special effort to get together every once in a while. Shes good for me.

What else? Not much I guess. I know,… this is a short entry and didn’t really have much to say. Just thought I’d drop in any way.