Some Halloween Reminders

I love Halloween. More specifically, I love costumes and any excuse to dress up. I love seeing how creative people can get with costumes. Kids dressed up in their cute costumes are adorable. Dogs dressed up in costumes are possibly more adorable. But there are some things about Halloween that can be incredibly difficult for those with chronic and mental illness, as well as those who have experienced trauma in the past. It's super important to be mindful of this. I'm not trying to crush everyone's good time, but we have to consider that not everyone is up for the same celebrations as us. Here are a few thoughts.

Scary Attractions:

• Many, many Halloween attractions involve people jumping out and scaring participants. This may even include touching/grabbing participants, or getting super close to them. This could be a massive trigger for a  someone who has suffered an assault or an attack. And while I can't personally speak to someone having been in combat, I'd imagine that people jumping out and grabbing them/surprising them could also have negative effects. 

• Loud noises can be triggering. Those with PTSD, those with anxiety, those with sensory issues can be especially affected.

•  Crowds/groups in tight quarters. I can tell you as an anxious person with claustrophobia and heightened sensory perception, dark spaces packed with people (especially dark spaces packed with people where things are going to jump out and try to make me shit my pants scare me) are NOT places I want to be. 

• Not everyone loves surprises. Again, for those of us with anxiety and numerous other conditions, these can be traumatic. It doesn't have to be a tourist attraction. Don't hide in a dark corner dressed up like Freddy Kruger and jump out at me at home either. This isn't limited to "jumping out" surprises. I often post around April Fool's Day, explaining that those of us with anxiety can really be affected by "negative" surprises. If the idea is to frighten, scare, alarm someone, and their brain does this naturally without any outside input, it's probably best not to do it. 

To clarify, I'm not saying that these things shouldn't exist. I'm not saying you shouldn't go to "haunted" house/attractions (exception: keep reading). I'm not even saying not to invite us - after all, everyone's different, and just because someone has anxiety, it doesn't mean it'll be a trigger for them. But it could, so be mindful. Don't force someone to go or make them feel bad for not going. Remember, they don't owe the world, or anyone, an explanation. If someone says "I'd rather not go, that's not really my thing", that needs to be enough. Bugging them until they reveal that it will trigger a past trauma, and only then letting up on them going, isn't OK.


Parties/food/drink: 
While we're at it, a few other reminders of things that aren't your/anyone else's business:

•  Why someone isn't drinking at a party/gathering/etc

• Why someone isn't eating all the candy (or anything else)

There are many reasons why people don't drink or eat certain things. It could be illness, an allergy, or it could be a whole host of other things including..... maybe they just don't feel like it! Please don't judge someone based on their lack of alcohol consumption or their dietary habits. Peer pressure wasn't cool in middle school and it's not cool now either.


Costumes:
I really feel this can be summed up in three words: have some tact. Mental illnesses, chronic illnesses, and disabilities are real, every day struggles that people go through. Not costumes. And yes, I've seen costumes for all of the above being sold online. It's disgusting to me. And yes, I get that any costume could probably offend anyone, but putting on my mom's old bell bottoms and a headband and going as a hippie isn't quite the same as dressing up as someone with a serious, even potentially fatal, illness.


Asylum Attractions: 
I can't speak for the community at large here, but I can speak for myself and my opinion on this topic is very strong. Do me a favor - before you go to one of the "asylum" attractions, read up on the history of "insane asylums". Read about how people were treated - by which I mean often abused, tortured, and in some cases even killed or left for dead. Read about how people were experimented on without their consent or at times without their knowledge. If you're cool with all of that, then sure, go ahead and give these attractions your money. Also know when you do this, every time you support something that makes a caricature out of mental illness, you're actively supporting stigma.

As I Close In On The Final Days Of My 38th Year

If you aren't aware, I love birthdays. My birthday, your birthday, my dog's birthday, your dog's birthday. If it's a birthday, I love it.  Why? Well first off, it celebrates life, and as someone that so passionately advocates for life in my suicide prevention efforts, I think making it through another trip around the sun and still being here, even with all you've had to endure, is a pretty damn good reason to celebrate. Also, here's the thing: unless you're a twin/triplet/other multiple birth, or share a birthday with someone you're likely to celebrate with, your birthday is the only day of the year that's ALL ABOUT YOU!! I mean granted, it's not only about you because somewhere in the world there are others who also have their birthday the same day (looking at you, Bruce Springsteen, who shares my birthday). But in your sphere,  your day is about you. It's not about your clients or your boss or your friend, or your dog or your cousin (OK my cousin and I have a birthday a day apart, so this is actually a bad example, but you get my point). It's about you.  And often, because you don't get to celebrate with everyone at once, you get to stretch it to a couple of days - birthday weekend, birthday week, etc. Hell, DSW sent me something in August that said "your birthday is almost here!" That's what I'm talking about! And the beauty of it being all about you is that if you want to spend your birthday/weekend/celebration time going to yoga or going out to dinner (if you can afford it) or gardening or sitting around picking your nose, that's totally your right. We spend so much of our time trying to accommodate everyone and everything, trying to meet those deadlines and get that work done and do those chores and tasks and do whatever else we have to do that we all deserve this time.You get to be Queen (or King) for a Day! (Fun fact: My Grandma Northen was actually on the show Queen for a Day years ago, which is what made me think of this phrase). 

I hope I enjoy my birthday as much as Grace when she learned there were fries in this bag.

But in addition to being a birthday celebration advocate, there's another purpose to this post. As I like to do each year, I wanted to take a look at my past 12 months.  Especially as we get older/have increased gravitational pull towards the earth especially in the curvy parts/forget why we just walked into the room or why we're not wearing pants add few more candles to the cake, I think it's easy to think of all the things we haven't yet accomplished, or where we hoped/thought we might be that we aren't yet. This can be especially true if chronic illness has prevented you from being and doing some of the things that you hoped to have been/done at this stage of life. But so much can change in a year,  that I think it sometimes helps to look at those things we did accomplish, or those positive changes that have happened in the last year, to give us a bit of hope that just because we haven't gotten there yet, doesn't mean we won't.



In this past year, I have: 

• Gone on my honeymoon (it was a few weeks after our wedding, so technically, I was married in my last age year).  

 

Overlooking Lake Keuka in the Finger Lakes, where we honeymooned.

• We've gotten three new cars (clarification: we got two new to us cars, one of which was totaled by someone who didn't stop behind me, and subsequently, I got an actual new car because it was actually cheaper with the Hyundai sale than getting a used one).

• I left my part time job of four years, started with a new company, and then transferred sites with that same company. So my job has, essentially, changed twice in the last year. 

• Traveled to Greece (Athens, Santorini, Crete)

My husband and I in Crete.

•  Traveled twice to Spain - once with my cousin to Barcelona, Madrid, Cordoba, and Ronda; once with my parents, and all of us siblings and our families, to Catalonia.  

 

Hiking in Ronda, Spain

From the house we rented in Catalonia

• Signed up and been accepted to Yoga Teacher Training (I start Sept 28th!).

• Celebrated my first Wedding Anniversary.  

 

Cappuccino I got on our anniversary.

 

• Had to titrate completely off all medications temporarily for private, personal reasons. And you might say "this is something to celebrate?" No, but the fact that I'm still here while being off all meds is. Honestly, other than celebrating my wedding anniversary, of all of my accomplishments this year, this was the biggest. It was by far the most difficult (I mean, traveling through Greece and Spain in luxury was tough, but....).

Actual photo of me off meds.

 In the Health Advocacy/Writing world, I:

• Completed my fifth Out of the Darkness Overnight Walk for Suicide Prevention. 

 

Finish of this year's Overnight Walk in Philly, at the Art Museum Steps.

• Had my advocacy work published on numerous sites, including The Mighty, where I officially became a contributor - a huge goal of mine.

• Was nominated for a WEGO Health Award for this blog. 

•  Became a Pioneer Member of the Savvy Coop, and was chosen to do an Instagram takeover for them. 

• Completed No Stigmas Ally Training, and submitted work to be published there.

• Had the first chapter of my novel (or one day novel) published in Wordgathering Magazine.  Putting my novel out there for everyone (or the 10 people obligated by blood relation, whatever) to see was super nerve wracking, as I never show anyone my fiction work. 

• Been steadily working on getting over my fear of rejection and failure in submitting work and participating in advocacy projects.  But for the Overnight Walk, as I've done that before and it's not a "work to be judged" so to speak, every one of the above took huge amounts of courage to pursue. My goal in the past few months has been "go for it". I've had to tell myself, "The worst thing they do is say no." I've made an increased effort to 'raise my hand' when people ask for submissions, participants, and the like. This is huge for me, and something I am hoping to continue to become better at with time.

There were so many literal ups and downs this year - I have a rapid cycling mood disorder, and had to come off meds, after all. But I made it through, and I accomplished quite a bit. And building on that momentum, I have some pretty big hopes and goals for next year, which I'll be sharing in an upcoming post.

Thanks for all of the memories, 38! Looking forward to seeing what 39 has in store!

How Often Do You Ask For Permission?

Have you ever asked a question of someone - significant other, friend, coworker, parent, kid, pet, etc - and immediately afterward caught yourself asking, "Why on earth did I need to ask them that?". I do it, all the time. And to clarify, not any question. I'm not talking philosophical discussions or quizzo facts. I'm talking about asking permission for silly things that absolutely don't require it. Here are a few examples:

"Do you mind if I use the bathroom before I start on xyz?" Yes, I've asked probably every person regularly in my life, at one point or another, if they mind if I do essential things like use the bathroom.

"Is it OK if I wear this?" Not to anything specific that would impact the person/people, to clarify. Just to make sure they're OK with it, I guess. Because I'm always afraid I've chosen wrong somehow.

If I'm not asking people's permission, I'm asking their opinion, in almost a permission-y way. I'll be sending an email about something and read it out loud to them to make sure... that I know how to write an email? I don't even know why. I was the VP of communications for a big organization. I have a Master's in Marketing. I am a published writer. I know how to write and communicate. There's zero point in my painstakingly seeking approval from others for a basic email. But I'm so sure I somehow got it wrong that I ask, "just in case". 

I ask people's opinions on how to cook something as I'm staring at a recipe because I don't trust myself to even find a good recipe. I ask how to wash something as I'm staring at the laundry label, because I doubt myself. You get the picture. I'm always certain someone else knows better than me, in everything.

I'm a chronic permission asker. When you battle with depression, your brain often lies to you. It tells you that you're not good enough, that you don't know anything, that you're not capable. It tells you that if someone claims to know better, you should just believe them because really, what do you know? After all, your brain makes you feel anxious or depressed "for no reason."  (Note: this isn't true, the reason is an illness, but it's how depression makes you feel.) You've been convinced not to trust your views, your thought process. Because you often see things differently, more emotionally, it's easy for depression to convince you that you aren't logical and therefore can't possibly come to the right conclusion. Because of these lies, and the chronic low self-esteem and self-worth that often result, its easier to fall into permission and opinion asking as a default, instead of trusting ourselves.

Let me step back and take a moment to further clarify, I'm not asking about permission to do something that actually affects someone else. Of course, I'm not going to spend tons of money out of our joint banking account without asking my husband. I'm not going to make plans that include a friend without checking with them, or make plans on a Tuesday that don't include my friend, if we have a standing Tuesday friend-date together. I'm not saying we should live our lives in a bubble, thinking only of ourselves. Far from it. Considering others when it could/does affect them is just common courtesy.  I'm talking about things that, in all reality, don't affect another person's time, money, plans, efforts, etc. I'm talking about things that don't take anything away from anyone else. Most of the time, when I ask permission, it's not something that I'm asking out of consideration. I'm simply asking because it's become automatic - I never want to upset anyone or do the "wrong" thing, so I'm overly cautious about making sure everyone is OK with everything. And I don't trust my brain to make this type of decision.

The problem with being a chronic permission asker is that it further feeds the cycle of low self-esteem and self worth. The more you ask permission and opinion for these tiny mundane things, the tougher it is to do anything without others' approval. And if you do, and there's any disagreement/criticism/critique/it doesn't go right, it makes you feel like you should have just asked and listened to them in the first place. It becomes increasingly difficult to trust yourself, your thoughts, your opinions. Eventually, you become afraid to think for yourself, because surely, you'll be wrong. Might as well just by-step the "middleman" and go straight to the source - someone else. One day, you wake up and realize that you don't recognize your own thoughts or ideas. You don't recognize yourself. You're now this being made up of everyone else's thoughts and opinions. You're literally afraid to do basic, every day things, make simple decisions - even ones that you previously would have been confident in - without someone else's approval and permission, because your brain is so sure you'll do it wrong.

So stop. Stop asking permission for the things that don't matter. Nobody's worse off if you wear one shirt over another (assuming it's not their shirt you're choosing to wear). If you use the bathroom now or in 10 minutes. If you feed the dog or do the laundry or some other basic task now or in a half hour. Nobody's worse off if your wording in that email isn't exactly as they would have worded it (assuming you aren't strewing in profanities or inappropriateness or speaking on behalf of someone else without their consent... you get the point). If follow a recipe and it's not perfect ... well, it's not perfect. I'll eat something imperfect or order a pizza. It's just not that big of a deal, and it's not worth lowering your already low self-esteem by feeling like you can't trust yourself on these tiniest decisions and processes.

In constantly allowing others' permission or approval to determine your actions, thoughts, words, you're giving them control. And I don't mean control we all deserve - i.e. having a say in something that directly will impact us - but control they have no business having. As an adult human being, nobody but you should have control over your bathroom usage or which pair of jeans you wear or how you style your hair or anything else. It becomes a slippery slope - one that's dangerous for your self-esteem and self-worth. So give yourself permission. I know this isn't easy. Depression and anxiety don't want to let you do this. But it's so important. Listen to yourself. After all, you know you better than anyone else. And you're way more capable and able than your illness wants you to believe.

If You Wonder What It's Like To Have a Rapid Cycling Disorder, Watch the Whether

Not sure about where you live, but here in Philly, the whether has been fluctuating between drastically hot and sunny and Armageddon. This past week people were being rescued from roofs of their cars due to flooding on our major highways. Intense storms toppling trees, thunder pounding, lightening illuminating the sky.  And then twenty minutes later, I'd be putting on my sunglasses. Storms have been rolling through so quickly and tumultuously that streets are being flooded out in a matter of minutes when there were no clouds in sight just an hour before.

This, folks, is what its like to have a rapid cycling mood disorder. At least mine. Of course, I can't speak for everyone. Technically, rapid cycling is described as four or more mood cycles in a year. For me, it can be four or more cycles in a week, or even a day. Of course, this isn't always the case - and four cycles in a day is extreme even for me. But truly, I do go to bed every night having little inkling of how I'll feel in the morning. And even once I wake up, my mood often does not predict how I'll feel by lunch time, let alone the end of the day.

To clarify, it's not as drastic as they'd show in Hollywood, where I just completely do a 180 mid-sentence and you can't recognize me. In fact it's nothing like that at all.  I can feel the cycle coming on, when I'm awake at least. I'm especially on alert if I know there are contributing factors that tend to make me cycle - lack of sleep, for instance. Or too much external stimulus, a major change to my routine, not getting enough recoup time/self-care time. In these cases, much like watching the whether radar patterns, I can pretty well anticipate that I'm going to cycle.  But no matter how prepared you are, sometimes there's only so much you can do. You can try to time your day out perfectly, analyze all the weather forecasts, diligently study the radar, and still get caught outside when the skies decide to open up. Because sometimes, shit just doesn't go like you or anyone else thought it was going to.

So if the whether has left you frustrated these past couple of weeks, pouring down with little warning and turning sunny the minute you cancel all of your outdoor activities, know that I can empathize. This is my brain on any given day. And no matter how much you try to prepare, to do everything correctly, to take all the precautions, to carefully listen to all the storm warnings and predictions, sometimes you miss the mark, or the storm changes course swiftly and there's nothing you could do to change it.  And when that happens, you get to a safe space as quickly as you can and, as one apparently only does in big storms or serious flareups, hunker down until it lightens up.

Look Ma, No Meds

It's been a while since I've written. I've been going through some stuff, both enjoyable and .... less so. I was traveling to Spain, which was amazing. I was in a car accident that possibly totaled my car (I'm ok), which is not amazing. But mostly, I've been titrating down on my medication. I've been doing so since January, with my therapist/heath care team overseeing it every step of the way.

I'm decreasing my meds for personal reasons that I'm not ready to share yet, but I will say that it has nothing to do with my mental health. By which I mean, I'm not decreasing them because my health has gotten so much better that I don't think I need them. On the contrary, I have a lifelong condition and I know that one of the only reasons I feel relatively better regularly is my medication. Nor am I doing so because of anything wrong with my meds, or because I've become one of those people that thinks medication is evil and makes me a "pawn of the system".  Far from it.  Medication has most likely saved my life, and despite the nausea, dizziness, disorientation, numbness in my tongue and lips, and my personal favorite, the never-awkward intense night sweats, the side effects of my meds are not all that bad - especially not compared to I feel when not taking them. But I have my reasons, and they're good ones (at least I think so), and hopefully one day I'll be able to share them. Just not yet.

Still, I wanted to share my experience of decreasing meds, as well as some tips and some real talk, in case you find yourself in a position where you need come down off meds, either for prolonged time, or in order to switch to something else.

First a few (possibly obvious but important none the less) tips:

• Work with your therapist, psychiatrist, anyone and everyone involved. Do not attempt to decrease your meds on your own without professional help (caveat: I'm saying this for maintenance meds, not things you take as needed for specific symptoms one-off style).  

• In working with these professionals, set up a timeline from the beginning (obviously if you have to switch off for emergent reasons, this isn't always possible, but do your best).  Plan out the trajectory of your decrease before you even start, so that you know you're giving yourself enough time. Build in leeway in case you need to slow the decrease, or pause at any point.  

• Set your boundaries ahead of time. If you have experienced things in the past that are giant red flags of your health decreasing, note them. If there are things you just flat out aren't willing to go through in order to decrease meds, be honest with yourself and your therapist (and anyone else affected) from the beginning. They can serve as your markers for "this is going too fast, I need to slow down/I need a different approach/I'm not ready to do this right now".

• Document how you feel. Everything, even if you're not sure if it's related. If every time you downgrade a dose you notice xyz, make note of it. It may be a coincidence, but you never know. Share these with your health professionals. Look for patterns. Remember, you know yourself best. If something doens't feel right (besides the obvious fact that you're decreasing meds and may generally feel worse), then voice it.

• Try to keep everything else as routine as you can. This way, the only thing massively changing is your meds. Try to get up and go to bed at the same time. You may need to adjust your sleep patterns slightly  - i.e. going to bed earlier if it takes you longer to fall asleep, giving yourself more time to get going in the morning etc. But do the best you can to keep things routine.  Make a note of any adjustments you have to make, so you can find the balance that feels best (and I use that term relatively) for you.

• Have a support team, and build an emergency plan. Have "life lines" in place - loved ones that you can contact if you have suicidal thoughts, or are feeling extra ill and need immediate support. If you can, involve your loved ones, especially spouses/partner, in your overall plan. If they know what to expect (at least theoretically), and understand what you might be experiencing as you decrease, they can both be there to support as needed, and look for signs of particular concern.

Now, some less-pretty but solidly real pieces of info:

• There are going to be days where you feel like absolute shit. I mean, if you felt completely fine without meds, you probably wouldn't be on them, right? So naturally, as meds go down, the feeling like crap factor goes up.  This is totally "normal", for lack of a better word. So don't be discouraged. I'd venture to say virtually person going off meds for a reason other than "they no longer need these meds" is going to feel some ill effects. This is even true if you're going off meds because they aren't working well. You're changing up what's going into your system - it's going to affect it, especially at first.

• There isn't much pattern to the better versus worse days. Right after each decrease, especially if it affects your sleep, you may notice a significant change. But then you'll have a day where you actually feel pretty OK (at least speaking from my experience). Or two, three, five. And then bam - another feeling like shit day. That's the nature of the beast, especially if you're mood cycling.... because... it's cyclical. And that is going to become more pronounced as the meds decrease.

• You may well experience hours/days/weeks/months where you think, "how the hell did I even exist before I was on medication". I certainly did. I wondered how I made it through growing up, college, grad school, and general adult hood without the meds. Because we can still have really rough days on them (they're a treatment, not a cure), it can become easier to forget how even more terrible it felt without them. You're going to feel like there's no way you can do this. That if this is how you feel with a small decrease, how can you possibly continue to decrease, let alone go off of them all together. Again, totally normal. (Note: Listen to your intuition on this. If it really feels that you cannot, that it's dangerous to you to keep decreasing, talk to your health professionals. Especially if you experience suicidal thoughts). 

•  There may be days that you fail to recognize yourself. On these days, you're going to need extra self-love and self care. These are a crucial part of the process. You may need more time to get things done, or more frequent times to rest and take time for yourself. Coming off meds is seriously difficult, and takes a tremendous amount of strength. But as with anything that takes strength, it can be exhausting. It's extra important to take care of ourselves during this time. This is where involving loved ones in the process, to have them help you out with things around the house, errands, tasks, etc can be huge. If you build this into your plan, you allow yourself extra time and energy for self-care.

• If you're a mood cycler, or struggle with anxiety, you'll likely experience too much energy. "Too much energy?" you might say if you've been in a depressive cycle that makes it tough to get out of bed. And I get it, it seems impossible. But yes, too much energy. Our meds can, at times, make us feel sleepy or sluggish. As you decrease, you may notice you have more energy, don't hit that 2PM slump during the day, need less sleep at night. But this can quickly slip into mania or hypomania (if you cycle). Or all that extra "energy" may be the nervous energy of anxiety. You can go from feeling "wow I don't actually need a to crawl under my desk and nap" to not being able to concentrate, feeling anxious, jittery, on edge, and worse pretty, quickly. Keep just as much of an eye out for this as you do for increased depression. 

• There may be days where you actually feel pretty damn good. Not (hypo)manic good, but just good. Like a person without mental/chronic illness would feel on a daily basis.  And it's super tempting to think, "wow maybe I don't need meds anymore!" And if continues, by all means, revisit the issue with your therapist/psychiatrist/health professional. But more than likely, you're just having a good day(s). That's all part of mood cycling and mental illness. Even off meds, I'm not cycling up or down every moment of every day. I'm not anxious every breathing moment. My advice is, don't overthink it. Simply enjoy feeling better for the day or days or hours or whatever it is. 

Today is my first day without any meds at all. I took my last (extremely lowered) dose yesterday around 2PM. So as of this writing, it's been 24 hours. I'm actually not doing terrible. I have more energy, focus can be tricky, but I'm hanging in. On the plus side, I don't now have to pack extra snacks for random times so that I can take meds (I mean, I still do, I love to eat, but I don't *have* to). I also don't wake up in the middle of the night looking like I went for a swim in my sleep. So that's sexier less gross. But most importantly, I'm still here. I have even laughed and smiled today. I've texted with friends. I'm looking forward to spending time with my hubs and my dog this evening. I'm hanging in. I know there will be tough days, as there always have been, but I'm making it through.

If you are contemplating decreasing your meds, or have to decrease your meds, or are going through this right now and need to vent, please, reach out. I may not have your exact experience with your exact medication, but I have gone through it, and come out the other side. I'm here for a vent, to be a shoulder to lean or cry on, or to give advice where I can. So please, if you need, reach out. I'm always here to listen.

I Have An Illness

I am not "so dramatic", I have anxiety.

I am not always "looking at the glass half empty", I have depression.

I'm not running a mile a minute and talking nonstop because I think I'm so important, I have hypomania.

I'm don't just "cry about everything", my illness makes me feel lost.

I'm not "needy" and looking for validation, I'm asking for support during depression.

I'm not selfish or lazy, I'm hurting mentally, emotionally, physically.

I'm not weak, I'm sick.

I'm not "always complaining"; I'm sharing my deepest thoughts and struggles because I trust you.

I'm not "making mountains out of mole hills,"  my anxiety and hypomania won't let my brain rest until certain things are done. It feels like I'm being mentally eaten alive.

I don't need to be fixed or "taught the right way to think or act" or molded into pretending I'm the version of OK that society is comfortable with. I don't need to "just suck it up".  I don't need an attitude adjustment or to be more grateful. I don't need you to tell me that the way my brain works is wrong. I don't need to be made to feel bad or guilty or less for having a illness I never asked for and battle against every day of my life. It is not a choice. I have an illness.

Discouraged

I'm blogging from a not very good place today, but it needs to be done. I have had a lot of blogs in holding patterns that I need to put out (I know it's been a while), but I need to do this. For myself. No offense. I need to get it out before it eats me alive, as my emotions tend to do.

I'm so incredibly discouraged. About everything. I'm trying to raise money for my overnight walk for suicide prevention, and getting friends to donate even $1-5 (that's literally all I'm asking, there's no minimum) is like pulling teeth, but the minute someone mentions girl scout cookies, everyone tramples each other to get in line. This is nothing against girl scout cookies (I don't really like them but that's my own thing), or the girl scouts, but you're telling me people can't afford a box of thin mints AND a $1? Ever? No matter how much I'd be willing to do for them?

I'm trying to make a go of Spread Hope Project and feel like a complete failure. I watch the most mundane tweets, posts, Instagram pics get hundreds of likes and I try so hard with my efforts and get maybe a like if I'm lucky. And zero action beyond that. No comments, shares, etc. No growth. Nothing that I could actually turn into an organization like I want it to be. The fact that I have a  M.S. in Marketing and can't get this off the ground, the same way I feel like a failure at my travel business (more on that in a minute) makes me feel even more horrible *because this is one of the few things I actually think I'm somewhat good at.* For someone who has almost literally no self-esteem, being made to feel, or sometimes outright directly told, that one of the very few things, and I mean very few, that you feel like you are good at, could succeed at, you're not, is so discouraging that I can't describe it. It's beyond discouraging. It all but breaks you. Especially when you are already depressed.

Now, my travel business. I have close friends and family tell me all about the great trip they just went on... that they didn't once reach out to me about. I don't even mean "oh it was just a flight and you don't make money on that so I didn't bother you" but TRIPS EXACTLY LIKE THE KIND I BOOK AND WOULD HAVE GIVEN A BIG FRIENDS AND FAMILY DISCOUNT ON MY RATE FOR. I'm not even saying they asked my advice but couldn't afford my fee or got AMEX points, got a cheap flight deal they couldn't pass up. I'm saying I found out afterwards in a Facebook post or email that they even took a trip.

All the advice givers say "ask for help". So I do. Please help me brainstorm for Spread Hope. Please donate to my walk. Anyone want to partner on xyz? Please read my blog. People say, "follow your dreams," but if I tried to live on following my dreams I'd be homeless without my parents' support (thank goodness for my parents). When I try to follow my dreams I get told it's not realistic, that nobody has the time to help, that its' "not their thing" (neither is car repair mine, but if you wanted to open an auto body shop I'd still attempt to help you brainstorm even if my suggestions were ridiculous). I'm told it's not practical, not logical. I'm told to be confident but then when I stand up for myself and say what I want, I get all of the above.

There are exemptions to these, of course. I'm lucky to have a few people that are eternally supportive of me being me, whoever that is and whatever I choose to do. I'm not asking for cheer leading here (in fact, please don't). I'm not asking for critique - I get enough of that. I don't need to be told what I'm doing wrong because right now it feels like literally my entire existence is wrong. The world is made for extroverted task-master doers who follow logic, and I'm a introverted restless soul creative who believes in following dreams and not missing your life for tasks because you never know when you wont have the chance. The balance is probably somewhere in between but I've yet to find it.

So I get all that. I'm simply getting this out because it's tearing me up. And because maybe somewhere someone else feels this way too, and I want them to know they aren't alone. 

Mental Health Trivia

Did you know it's National Trivia Day? Well, it is. And I love Trivia. So I thought I'd do a little mental health and suicide prevention trivia quiz. Because this information is really important to understand, so that we can help break the stigma and debunk the mental health myths. Without Googling (or searching in any other way), how well do you do on this quiz?

1. One in every _____ adults in the US has a mental health condition.

2. Depression is the _____ (ie 10th, 3rd, etc) cause of disability worldwide.

3. One half (50%) of all chronic mental illness begins by the age of ____.
3b. Three quarters (75%) begins by the age of ____.

4. Suicide is the ____ (4th, 12th, etc) leading cause of death of death in the U.S.

4b. It's the ___ leading cause of death for people aged 10-14, and ____ leading cause for those        between the ages of 15-24.

5. Approximately ___% of American Adults live with an anxiety disorder.

6. There are approximately ____ suicides per day in the US.
6b. Of this daily number approximately ____ (number) are veterans.

7. People with mental health conditions are ____(number) times more likely to be victims of violent crime than perpetrators.

8. Approximately ____ million American adults live with Bipolar Disorder.

9. 1 out of every ____ adults lives with Schizophrenia.

10. Can you identify these mental health condition acronyms?

• GAD
• SAD
• MDD
• PTSD
• BDP
• OCD
• ADD
• BP
• ADHD

The Most Important Thing I've Done Is Survived; and Sometimes, I Even Live

When you battle depression, you know that often the best you can do is just get through the day. You may not be breaking any records, or busting through your to do list, or even showering. Some days, getting through the day is what matters most. If you lay your head down at night in order to be here tomorrow, you've accomplished the most important thing you can - you've survived.

For those who don't battle depression or chronic illness, I think this is a difficult concept to truly understand. For them, surviving is second nature. They don't have to think about it, wonder if it'll happen again tomorrow.  They don't go to bed at night with the sole accomplishment of still being here. Instead, they look at the things they haven't accomplished: the house needs to be cleaned, they need groceries, they have to do this or that chore or task. And don't get me wrong, my anxiety rails through all of that too. Repeatedly. But the thing is, if I weren't here, if I hadn't made it, it wouldn't matter one bit how clean or not the house was or how full the fridge was.

And so, I admit, that sometimes my priorities seem a little "messed up" to the observer. The house desperately needs to be cleaned and I'm planning a hike or a day trip or a drive to the beach or something of a similar fashion. Or I'm relaxing, listening to the rain or enjoying the sunshine on my face. Sometimes, I go for a drive simply to enjoy the warmth of the sun (streaming through my new panoramic sunroof!!), the open air, and the musc. And understandably, people probably feel, If you're going to be out on a drive, could you maybe stop and pick up xyz while you're at it, because you're running out?! And yes, I probably should. I probably need bread or beans or a replacement light bulb or something from CVS or whatever it is. And I may stop and pick it up (ok, usually just the CVS, big stores give me anxiety). But you know what I really need? I need to have these happy, sun and fresh air filled moments  to pull me through when I cycle back down. If not, I'm spending all of the times I actually feel ok filling obligations, only to slip back into depression without being able to remember what in life there is to truly enjoy.

And so I perhaps do not make a very good adult. I do not see the point of spending the majority of my time doing the mundane things that will never be my legacy. I'm not saying I'll live in a pigsty or starve, but I just simply don't get the need to have this all perfectly done, all the time. And maybe there's a compromise. Maybe I can run into Whole Foods once a week, spend 30 minutes tops  (I can honestly get all my shopping done in this time), and have had healthy meals all week. And when I am running out of TP, I can stop at CVS for 10 minutes max. No need fora full day dedicated to these things.

I realize this is frustrating for people in my life. I wish I was content to do the everyday adult life things. I really do. It would be so much easier on those around me. Not to mention I'd have a full fridge on a regular basis, and a cleaner house. I know it seems irresponsible. And I'm trying to find a balance, I really am. I'm not sure where that lies.

Maybe it's just me. And maybe it's the fact that I feel my time to actually feel alive is limited, since illness hits me so often. But I just don't think I'm going to lie on my deathbed wishing I'd done more chores. I do think, though, that if I stick to those "have to"s, that one day I'll look back and think, What did I do with my life? And moments of life can be so precious, that I can't imagine why I'd want to live that way.

Me in Ronda, Spain, after a sunrise hike. The ultimate in enjoying a good day!

When is Enough, Enough?

There often comes a point in life when you feel you must say "enough's enough". I don't entirely get the etymology of that phrase, but anyway, a phrase it is. The point being, at what point do the costs outweigh the benefits. In some cases, this is literal. In others, it's figurative. When you're living with a chronic illness, you may well deal with both.

Those of us that have illness(es) every day of our lives are used to living, what we call, low on spoons. There aren't a lot of days where we feel we're 100 percent ready and ready for anything life throws at us (caveat: some people have told me they feel this way in a manic episode. I only feel jittery and agitated in mine, so I don't experience this). And generally, we persevere. We are spouses, parents, employees, bosses. We volunteer or we participate in community activities. We try to live our daily lives as "normally", for lack of a better word, as we can. We may need more naps or to go to bed earlier or to take a break once in awhile, but we keep plugging along.

But at what point do you no longer do that? At what point do you say, "my health, my sanity (in my case) has to come first"? At what point do you finally decide that something's has to change. At what point do you say, "This is going to be a really difficult change, and it may even affect those I love, but so will losing my sanity, and I'm headed straight down that path"? And how do you do that? How do you tell those that are depending on you, often in numerous capacities, that you have to chose your sanity? How do you explain that it may seem like a drastic decision, like a short term solution, but that losing your mind, which you are actually close to doing, will be a much longer term problem? How do you get that courage, that conviction?

It's ideal, of course, if others are the ones to suggest the changes. If your loved ones say, "Listen I know you love volunteering at the xyz or participating in the abc, but it's having a terrible effect on your health. Maybe you should take a break." Or if they say, "I know you're trying to be everything to everyone, but let me take over xyz for a little bit." It may even be them supporting a career change, or you taking a chance and choosing to go after a dream. Of course, some are bigger decisions than others. Suggesting you leave the PTA is not the same as suggesting you reinvent your career in the middle of your life. But my point is, it's ideal if they come to you. Because it takes away a little of the guilt. And yes, there shouldn't be guilt for putting one's health and sanity first. But at least for me, there's always this nagging, "What if I just wasn't trying hard enough?" What's ironic is, I would never feel this way about someone else. I'd be 100 percent behind them making whatever changes they need to. I'd understand exactly how they feel, and I'd be the first one to tell them that if they don't have their health and sanity, that they can't be there to help others, so in the long term, it's best for everyone. But when it comes to myself, I'm always managing to convince myself that I can't let anyone down, or put anything at risk. I always manage to convince myself that I just have to get through it, because I'm failing otherwise. We are, I think, our own worst critics. And so someone else being on your team, looking at things from the perspective of your health and sanity instead of the perspective of "how things normally go" or "the most logical solution", is one of hte most amazing feelings one can experience. And for it to be their idea, for them to be behind it lessen the self-criticism, is amazing.

But sometimes, that isn't the case. Sometimes it feels that nobody truly understands what is going on inside your head. You look ok. You're holding it together. You had a good day/week, and that makes them think it's not that bad. And it's understandable, I suppose. They see you've gotten through everything else. They think it's a kneejerk reaction, or that you're so emotional that you're not thinking it through. They don't understand the battle raging in your head. The battle that you're losing more quickly each day. So what do you do? When, and how, do you say, "Enough is enough"?  Have you done this? I would love to hear your stories. 

On Those Days When You Just Want To Run Away

I know the feeling. There are days that you wake up and you think, "I just can't do this." It's not a specific task or job or anything - it's just this. All of this. There often isn't a specific "reason" per se. It's not that you're in so much more pain than the day before. It's not that anything traumatic has happened. It's just that life is looming. Closing in on you. Sometimes, it's a last straw. One more thing goes wrong, and you just. can't. take it.

When this happens, there seems only one plausibility: run. You think that if you could just up and leave, start a new life, maybe you could outrun illness. You picture this new life in which you're in some new town or foreign city, where you've somehow managed to make work everything that you can't now. In this new life, you're not socially anxious - you can actually talk to people and make friends. In this new life, you can actually handle stressful situations without melting down and crying. In this new life, you have skills and talents that actually make you feel like you have something to offer. And you have confidence that make you feel "worth it", able, capable. And you actually are. You feel that if you could just start fresh, you'd be OK. You'd be able to get up in the morning without dread. You wouldn't feel so dark and lonely and alone. You wouldn't be so anxious, so fearful.

Now let me clarify, this generally has nothing to do with specifics. It's not that you're unhappy with your friends or family or partner. It's not that you dislike your job. It's not that you're ungrateful and think you have it so bad, or lack perspective. It's just that you physically, mentally, emotionally need to get the hell out of dodge, and you feel like you'll break if you don't.

I'm not going to sit here and give you platitudes. You'll get no "but there are starving children in Africa" guilt from me. Because that's not the issue. You know it's not, and I know it's not. The issue is that you feel like you just don't belong in your life.  Those closest to me will often hear me say, in my darkest moments, how I feel that I don't belong in this world. Like I was born in the wrong century in the wrong place, and that no matter how far I wander, I'll never feel at home. Because even if I get to the right place, wherever that is, I'll still be in the wrong century. It feels like I'm hollow, unfulfilled. Like until I find the "right" place and time I can't understand why I'm here. It feels lonely and isolating, and worst of all, I blame myself for it. It feels that if I can just run far enough, maybe I can outrun that self-blame. But that no amount of "you do so much good" or other similar words will help. The only words that could possibly help would be "wherever you run to, I'm going with you" (by someone close - otherwise that's called a stalker). Because at least I know I wouldn't be alone.

I wish I had a solution to offer. I don't. But I can tell you that I know what it's like. And if it helps you to vent to me, to tell me all about where you'd run to and what you'd do and what you dream of your life being, then I'm happy to listen. Imagination can offer hope, and sometimes, it's enough hope to lessen the need to run away.  Or perhaps knowing that someone else understands helps you to feel less alone. Less estranged from everyday life, from the world as a whole. The only other thing that I can suggest is to create a system of "mini breaks". Perhaps it's that you have a notebook, or a bulletin board, or a jar in which you toss written suggestions of those ways to give yourself a mini break without actually having to run away. Maybe it's going for an actual run. Maybe it's taking a drive, or a day trip out of the immediate area. Maybe it's doing something fun that you don't often do - something that reminds you of your childhood, or a happier time. Perhaps it's simply writing out your feelings, or daydreaming with a friend. Try to think of those things that could take the edge off the need to run away. They may not solve it all together, but they may give temporary reprieve. Hopefully, the need will eventually pass. I realize that doesn't offer a ton of hope, but it is, unfortunately, the best I have. And always, know that you aren't alone.

Today, I Empathized With A Mouse

Some background:  My fiance and I (and our dog) are currently staying with my parents while our condo is under kitchen and bathroom renovation (complete tear down and rebuild). Over the past few weeks, we've noticed that something other than ourselves and our dog has been munching on the food in their pantry. Now if you know anything about me, you know I'm a strict vegetarian that literally can't hurt a fly. But I also understand that my parents don't want mice traipsing, among other things, around in their food.

My parents, being the good people they are and knowing that I can't stand to see a creature harmed, put out sticky paper so that they don't have to kill the mouse, but can manage to relocate it outside. This morning, a mouse, being unknowingly obliging, got his or her foot stuck on the sticky paper. My parents shielded me from it by telling me to stay downstairs, so that I didn't see the mouse struggling at all, while they brought it outside, extricated it's foot from the paper, and set it free in what seemed as safe a spot as they could. And I love my parents for doing the most humane thing possible outside of just letting a mouse wander through and poop in their food, potentially spreading any disease that goes along with this.  But still, I broke down. 

It wasn't really about the mouse. Yes, I was sad for it. Being the highly sensitive person and empath that I am, I hated the idea of a living creature experiencing any pain or discomfort. But more than that, I empathized. I pictured that poor mouse stuck, having no idea why, with no clue of what to do, trying in vain to move and run but being trapped - not in an actual trap, but by its inability to go anywhere, struggling for the little movement it had managed to obtain, all the time confused about what had happened to it. And in that moment, I felt just like that mouse. 

Lately, that's exactly how I feel. Depression, anxiety, and mood cycling can stop you in your tracks. There are days, weeks, months where you can try as hard as humanly possible and you can't break out of it. No matter how much wonderful you have in your life, no matter how grateful you are for the support you have and the good things that come your way, it doesn't matter. The sadness takes over, the anxiety sets in, the cycles continue despite every attempt to stop them. Your life seems to halt, even though the world goes on without your feeling able to participate in it, at least not as you wish you could. You feel that you're going nowhere, that you have no hope, that you aren't able or capable. It feels as if everyone else is, and somehow you just fail - like someone else could do exactly what you do and they'd be successful and moving forward, but when you do, there's nothing. Some days, you just don't feel like you have the energy to even try to fight it. Like you're that mouse, and you eventually realize that all your struggling to move just takes precious energy that you're already lacking. 

And on top of all of this, unlike the mouse, you often must try to pretend it's not happening. It's not acceptable to spend your days curled in the corner of your office crying, unable to interact with coworkers or clients. Or maybe there are those who don't understand, and when around them you feel it's easier to just put on the mask. Or perhaps you're simply tired of everyone thinking of you as "that person who's so depressed and anxious that they can't handle anything." Do you know how frustrating it is when people assume you're anxious even when you're joking and happy? But they're so used to you being worried about everything that even what sounds like a joke to you comes off to them as seriously upset. Even in your happy moments, when they come, you have to deal with the results of depression and anxiety. And so you just smile and nod and say you're OK, until those days when you can't. Then, you do those things you absolutely feel you must, and then quietly retreat, cocooning in yourself in an attempt to heal through isolation. 

I realize that this is a lot to get from a mouse with it's foot on some sticky paper. And there may be some ever-optimistic people who say "But look, the mouse got out free! Your parents made sure it was safe!" And that did make me happy. It managed to bring a bright spot into an otherwise incredibly tough morning. But the difference between me and the mouse is, there's nobody who can ensure I will be Ok. They can help me along the way. They can support me. They can be there for me on the days that I'm not, and they can try to lift me back up. And perhaps nobody can ensure that the mouse is OK either - nobody knows what happens to it after it ends up in the field, and that's life for all of us. But in that moment, we could. We could take care of that little mouse and set him or her free, and hopefully he or she felt like it had a new chance at life. I'm sure there are people ready with platitudes to say things like "Every day you wake up is a new day and a new chance at life". But that's not true, not really. Because I still wake up as depressed or as anxious, or I'm still cycling badly. There's nothing new about it, and that's the trouble. I'm stuck in that trap. Nobody can magically set me free and say "Go, run, live! You're saved!" And while a week from now that mouse may have no memory of the sticky paper on which it struggled, there's not a day that goes by that I can forget the illnesses I battle, even if they're just kind of sitting there quietly on the periphery.  And so many days I wish someone could just say "You are too precious to hurt, even though you don't really belong here. So we're going to save you. And once again you'll be where you belong, running free." 

Why Mental Health Month Is So Important

Yesterday was May 1, so I'm a bit tardy. My days have been incredibly long, and I haven't had a ton of time for blogging, but I'm trying to prioritize it once again. May is Mental Health Month, and that's important, and so it's pushing me to pick up my pen and paper open up my blog page, and start raising my virtual voice.

Why is Mental Health Month so critical? Quite simply, because we shouldn't need it. We shouldn't need a month that tells people it's OK to talk about mental health. We shouldn't need a month to work on eliminating stigma. We shouldn't need statistics that tell us how prevalent mental health conditions are, or how many people take their lives each year - each day even -when people try to deny that mental health is a priority. We shouldn't need to explain at length, ad nauseam, why mental health is no different than physical health when it comes to how we should be treated, both as people, and actually medically treated. We shouldn't have to be fighting to take a sick day for our depression, when nobody would bat an eye at us taking a sick day for the flu. We shouldn't have to explain that we can't just think happy thoughts or smile more or calm down or look on the bright side or be more grateful. We sure as hell don't need to be told to just pray about it and we'll be "saved" - we need therapy, medication, understanding, concern, people taking us seriously, not an exorcism.  But we do have to do this. All of this. Sometimes on a daily basis.

We have to listen to "well everyone gets depressed", or "we all get anxiety", by people who think that depression and anxiety really mean being "down in the dumps" or simply stressed.  We have to listen to people say things like "omg she keeps changing her mind, it's like she's bipolar" (yes, I just used "omg" in a post, because to me, that's the least ridiculous part of that statement). We have to hear phrases like "I'm so OCD today; I think my ADD is acting up today (when they have neither); I'm so depressed I have nothing to wear to this party." While we sit there not wanting to get out of bed, not feeling like there's a point to our lives, like people would be better off if we just never existed. I don't have OCD or ADD, so I won't pretend to know what it's like to have those, and to hear these comments. It must be frustrating as hell.

We're constantly bombarded with the media creating monsters out of illnesses, touting how people with a mental health condition are violent, oblivious of the fact that people with a mental health condition are 10 times more like to be victims of a crime than perpetrators. But there's no media that will stand up and say that, so we have to listen to it. And then we have to listen to people - often people we know, sometimes even those we are close to- believe it and worse, repeat it.

This is why we need Mental Health Month. And we will need mental health advocacy not just during this month but every single day, year round until this type of stigma goes away. Thank you for listening to my rant/vent, I am much obliged. Now please, get out there with me and help me fight this stigma. 

It's Time to Talk (About Mental Health)

Today, February 2nd, is Time to Talk Day. Time to Talk about mental health, that is. As a mental health advocate, that's really every day, but today I thought I'd get back to basics, talking about my mental health, in the form of a questionnaire of sorts.

What's the name of my condition?: (Rapid Cycling) Cyclothymia.

When was I diagnosed?: A month shy of my 30th birthday, but I've had it since birth.

Will I always have it?:  Yes. At least as of now. No cure has been discovered.

Am I always cycling?: No. But there's always the possibility. Many days, I feel quite... un-cycle-y.

What's my chosen course of treatment?:  Therapy approximately once every three to four weeks, oxcarbazepine three times per day, hydroxazine (for anxiety) twice per day with an option for a third time if bad. Let me say that treatment is very individualized, and everyone has to tailor their treatment to what works best for them.

Why do I advocate?: Because there's stigma. Because people are still afraid of saying that they have a mental health condition for fear of repercussion - from their families, from their friends, from their jobs. Nobody should have to fear repercussion from others for having an illness. And because there are still so many myths about mental health that are absolutely untrue, and people need to have factual information to in order educate themselves on the topic. People don't know what they don't know.

What do I want people to know?:

• 1 in 5 people in the US has a mental health condition. That's 20% of the US population. When you include addictive disorders, that percentage is even higher.  

• People with mental health conditions are 10 times more likely to be victims of a violent crime than perpetrators. 

• We are not "crazy", "mental", "insane". We have an illness. Just like someone would have diabetes or asthma or any other chronic illness. 

• Taking medication doesn't make me a pawn of the medical/pharmaceutical industry. It saves my life, and that of many others. 

• Anxiety isn't just being stressed; depression is not just being sad; mood cycling isn't just being moody. They are multi-faceted illnesses that are rooted in a physical part of our body - an organ called the brain. These illnesses are not a choice, an attitude, or a lack of gratitude. We would never choose these things if we had the option. 

• My illness is, and never will be, a crutch. If I say I cannot do something - physically, mentally, emotionally, because my illness affects all three -  I cannot. Just like I cannot know what it feels like to not be able to breathe due to asthma, since I don't have it, those without mental health conditions don't know what it's like inside my brain. 

• Our illnesses are not adjectives to be thrown around. Someone who changes their mind isn't "acting bipolar"; needing to double check something isn't "so OCD"; you're ADD isn't acting up today, unless you actually have ADD and it's acting up today; you're not "so depressed because you have nothing to wear to the party" unless you actually battle depression and this is somehow a trigger. You wouldn't say someone was acting "so cancerous". So don't use mental health this way either. 

• Suicide is the 10th leading cause of death in the US. There are approximately 121 suicides in the US every day (over 44,000 every year in the US). For every suicide completed, 25 attempt. 

• Mental health conditions are not weaknesses, they are illnesses. Illnesses that can be fatal. Suicide is not weak or selfish, it is (at least when related to mental health), a battle with an illness that's been lost. 

• If you struggle with mental health, you are not alone, even though it often feels like it. There are so many of us that understand. Please, reach out. To me personally if you would like. 

• I am not ashamed of having a mental health condition, and I will never let anyone make me feel that way. If you, too, battle mental health and need some help in talking about it, reach out. To me, or to anyone else who advocates and is open to it.  

It is time to talk about mental health. Time to stop the stigma. Time to change. I am happy to answer any questions anyone has about mental health, my condition or personal experiences, or becoming an advocate.  

                                     

Mental Health Pet Peeves

In the mental health community, we face a lot of stigma. Some of it is overt. People calling us crazy or mental or insane. People saying we're dangerous, violent. These people, while they frustrate the hell out of me, are sometimes easier for me to deal with. I pull out statistics about how those with mental health conditions are ten times more likely to be victims of a violent crime than perpetrators. I tell people how I run a business and work a part time job, have recently written a novel in my "spare time", and have served on numerous boards of directors, to name a few accomplishments. This tends to make people realize perhaps I'm not as "crazy" as they would like to think. Or they do, and I tell them where to shove and move along because they've decided to be closed minded and nothing I can say will change that, so they aren't worth my time. But the people that don't get what they're doing are the ones who really get to me. Because that is how stigma and ignorance disguises itself in a pretty little helpful bow, and continues to be perpetuated. Here are a few of my top mental health pet peeves.

•  "Just pray about it." Ok, first off, I've been black listed by the Catholic church for living in sin for the last umteen years (divorced, not annulled,etc etc) and quite frankly it pisses me off that I'm counted as much of a sinner as a murderer or a rapist simply because I left an unhealthy relationship. But all of this is besides the point BECAUSE MY ILLNESS IS NOT A SIN OR A PENANCE! I jokingly call it the gremlin in my head, but that's a joke. Because it's so ridiculous that a separate being would be actually possessing my brain that I can joke about it. Praying, if I were religious, might calm me. It might give me some sort of comfort. If I were religious. Which I am not. Now, to be clear, if you are religious and want to pray that I'm feeling better, by all means, go ahead. It's how you feel you can help, and I truly appreciate that you want to help in some way. I'm not telling you not to pray or believe, and I appreciate you doing what you can to help. Who knows, maybe it'll work and I'll become a believer again.  But please, don't tell me the only thing that I can do to help is pray. I respect that it's your thing, but it's not my thing. And I'm not looking for a miracle. 

• You're a pawn of the pharmaceutical/doctor industry. They're making you sicker so you buy the drugs and they get rich.  Ok first of all, did you witness the first 30 years of my life? Did you watch me at 2 years old in hypomanic episodes begging my parents "make it stop, make it stop." But I'm just fine off my meds?  How exactly do you, who is not in my head or my body, know that?  Let me set you straight: my meds, and the meds of so many others, are life-saving. When you have a potentially fatal cancer and choose not to take medication, please, come to me and show me how you've magically healed on your own. Then we can talk. 

• Oh I don't need medication, I've cured myself with these herbal supplements and exercise. Well hoody hoo for you. You are not me. You're not inside my brain. I have a bachelors in kineseology, worked in corporate fitness for five years, and am a certified personal trainer and fitness instructor. If exercise could cure me, I think I'd be fine and dandy by now. I'm honestly glad that works for you. You're lucky. Me, not so much. It does help me at times, but it doesn't cure me. Nothing does. I have a chronic illness that currently has no cure. 

• Just relax/chill out/calm down (during anxiety/hypomania). *%&$&*$%&#$%*$% You. If I could, I would. And here's a tip: never, in the history of telling people to calm down, has telling someone to calm down actually made them do so. In fact, it does the reverse. 

• Just focus on the positive more. Be more grateful.  I'm not ungrateful. I know I have "no reason" (as you put it) to feel so awful, worthless, terrible, hopeless. I know there are starving children in Africa and that so many people are more sick, or have it worse. But I do, actually, have a reason. It's called a medical illness that screws with my brain. And now, thanks to you, I simply feel guilty about having this illness, and more like a giant piece of shit than I already felt. 

• Why are you depressed? You have a good life. If I asked you why you couldn't just stop having cancer because you have a good life and *should* be healthy, I'd look like the biggest asshat on the planet. When you ask this, so do you. 

• I  avoid people who are emotional/dramatic. Every time I see this in anyone's status/profile/etc I run like the wind. Because this makes me feel like I can't be myself if I'm having an overly emotional day, and like it's my fault if I am. Like it's not an illness that makes me this emotional but a choice. It makes me feel like a burden. And I don't want to be a burden to anyone. I'd rather be alone. 

• Happiness is a choice. Ah, well, no shit?! If only I'd known! All this time, I've been suffering from a lifelong illness when I could have just decided not to be depressed! I hope you can sense the sarcasm. If happiness was a choice, approximately 16 million Americans would not be living with Major Depressive Disorder (source here). Trust me, we don't want to be depressed, and we certainly never chose this on purpose. 

• You can't control what happens to you but you can control your reactions to it. Clarification: in a perfect world, I agree. But in a perfect world, 16 million Americans would battle major depression either. By nature of my disorder, my brain makes it increasingly difficult to control my reactions, and sometimes nearly impossible. If it helps make this a bit more clear, my meds are actually used primarily for seizures. Basically, I'm having a seizure- like reaction in my brain that manifests itself emotionally/mentally instead of physically. And if you've ever witnessed someone having a seizure, you understand the lack of control. If I could not have an anxiety attack or panic attack in public, I would.  Because nobody likes being stared at and steered clear of in public. Nobody likes collapsing in a pile of tears in the middle of a crowd. And if I could not sink into a depression, I would. Trust me, even through a depression, I'm trying to keep to react as best as possible. I'm trying not to let it drag me under into an abyss of nothingness. I don't always win. Please believe me, if I can't control it, I really can't.

Fellow mental health battlers, have more? I'm sure there are plenty. I try to laugh at them, to brush these things off. It helps keep me from isolating myself, feeling like nobody understands me. So I joke and use colorful language to make them lighter. But honestly, these things aren't funny. They're annoying at best, and ignorant and stigmatizing at worst. 

It's The End of The Month As We Know It

It’s the last day of HAWMC! Congratulations, you completed 30 days of writing! Take this last post to reflect on your health advocacy journey and set a goal for the next year. Perhaps you want to try a new platform for your activism, attend a patient summit, or start a podcast. Remember, “Set your goals high, and don't stop till you get there.”

Guys, I did it! I completed HAWMC! I did skip 3 days, but those were intentional, as they felt like things I'd just recently written about, or that didn't particularly apply to me at the moment. Or, in the case of yesterday's, I've just not had a ton of chance to read others' post enough to pick one (sorry, that makes me a bad HA I know). But considering that this month held more work hours than normal, the Thanksgiving holiday, and stomach-virus-ageddon, I'm pretty proud of myself. 

My goals for next year? Well, I do want to attend a patient summit and/or conference for HAs. That's pretty high on my list. I also want to make sure to raise the necessary funds and complete my fourth Overnight Walk next June.  

My biggest goal, however, is a project that I've just recently begun promoting called the Spread Hope Project (link to initial Instagram post here). The project idea bloomed from a shirt I own that says the word "Hope" across the front, which I bought at an  event but have seen nowhere else on the organization's website or elsewhere. I loved the message of hope and thought, "How great would it be to get a picture with a shirt that says 'HOPE' in as many different locations and with as many different people as possible." Literally, spreading Hope to as many places and people as I can. I broadcasted this on social media, and people started volunteering themselves or their locations/cities/etc for pictures. A friend then suggested making my own "hope" type shirts (not the same, but with the same message) and donating the money to mental health and suicide prevention charities. This idea merged with a similar one that had already been brewing in my head, and the Spread Hope Project was born. I have more ideas, longer range goals down the road, but for now, I'm focusing on getting out there and getting pictures with people and places, and eventually developing Spread Hope shirts (not the same as the original, but with my own logo) so that others can Spread Hope as well.  (CYA: I know there are trademark/etc processes involved in creating my own design here and I'm on it). 

And so, my call to action is this: If you are interested in being in a Spread Hope picture, or think that your location would make a great backdrop, let me know! Additionally, if you are a business or organization, especially in the Philly/South Jersey area, and would like a picture in your location and a tag on social media, reach out! As the rest of the plan becomes more concrete, I'll undoubtedly be posting more on this. But for now, you can follow along on my personal Instagram and twitter, as well as with the hashtags #spreadhope #spreadhopeproject #spreadhopestopstigma and #spreadhopesavelives. Let's get those pictures rolling!

A Letter To Myself On the Day I Was Diagnosed

HAMC Day 4:  Do you remember the day you were diagnosed?  Perhaps you were scared, felt alone and surely you had tons of questions. Write a letter to yourself for the day you were diagnosed, knowing all you do now.

Dear Maya, 

I know this day is a mixture of virtually every possible emotion. I know that right now you are both relieved that you finally can put a name to what's been happening, and scared of what that means for your future. I know you aren't completely surprised by your diagnosis, and at the same time frustrated as hell that every other health professional you've seen for the past eleven years ignored you when you told them that you were battling more than just situational stress. 

I know you have a lot of questions. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but those questions don't end. Every time one is answered, another is presented. Each time it seems like you understand your diagnosis and how it affects your brain, your emotions, and your body, it'll throw you a curve ball.  I'm sad to say that I don't have all the answers. I'm still figuring them out myself. As you'll come to understand, maybe already have begun to from experience, mood cycling by nature is unpredictable. Depression might present itself one way one month, and a completely different way the next. Hypomania may mean being extra productive one week and completely distracted to the point of utter frustration the next. Some cycles will last a two weeks and some will last two hours. They say the only thing constant is change. Whoever "they" are, boy are they right. 

Be prepared for the meds. They're doozies. The dizziness, the nausea, the disorientation, the numb lips and tongue. But it gets better. You get to used to them. Of course, each time you do, the dose increases until you reach your proper daily does, but eventually, I promise it doesn't feel so crappy. Most days, you'll take your meds as nonchalantly as you brush your teeth. Trust me on this one and stick them out. Therapy too. Keep going. It'll be well worth your while (and money - by the way, start saving up for those costs now). 

There's good news too. Life will settle down. You'll always cycle, but you'll learn to live with this illness. You'll learn to use it as an opportunity to help others. You'll discover pieces of yourself that you never knew - creative, artistic pieces that help you express your emotions when it seems you can do so no other way. And believe it or not, this illness will help you learn who to keep in your life, and who to separate yourself from. Not everyone will accept your diagnosis easily, but more people than you think will understand. In fact, you'll find understanding and empathy in people you never imagined went through similar struggles. 

You have a long road ahead. I know it's confusing. There are so many facets to consider now that you have a starting point in knowing your diagnosis. Take them one at a time. Focus on the most crucial first. Learn everything you can. Arm yourself with information from trusted and unbiased sources. Ask questions. Build a support network. Create a plan of action and go from there. You will battle this for the rest of your life. Some days will be worse or better than others, but it will always be there, lurking in the background, even when you can't feel it directly in the moment.  And some days, weeks, months even will really suck. But you will get through it. When you're not sure how you can possibly keep going, just remember to put one foot in front of the other. You'll be ok. 

Be Yourself

HAWMC Day 3:  Quotation Inspiration. Find a quote that inspires you (either positively or negatively) and free write  about it for 15 minutes.

I love quotes. Inspiring ones, silly ones, smartassy ones. But if I had to pick just one, it would be this incredibly simple one by Charles M Schultz.

"Be Yourself. No one can say you're doing it wrong." 

Why? Well, quite frankly, I'm different. I always have been. I grew up knowing I was different, though not knowing how. Occasionally it bothered me. Most of the time I didn't think much of it. But as I got older, I thought more and more of it. I realized how different I was in so many ways. And the more I noticed it, the more it bothered me. I asked myself why I was so different. For all that I knew it, I couldn't really place my finger on it. The more this eluded me, the more angst it caused me. It was a self-perpetuating cycle. One that threw me occasionally into pretty dark places. 

As my condition started to become more evident to those around me (it was always evident on some level to me), they noticed it to. I faced a lot of "Why can't you just be normal" comments. A lot of, "Normal people aren't like that. Normal people don't think that way or feel that way or act that way. You're (crazy/delusional/irrational/pick you're stigmatizing descriptive). For a long time, even after I was diagnosed, I tried to defend myself, telling they were wrong, I was normal, even with this illness. I tried to explain my words, feelings, actions and why people should find them acceptable.  I tried and tried to justify them to people who didn't want to hear it. People who'd already passed judgement on me for one reason or another. I watched it in numerous aspects of my life and I rallied against it time and again. And then finally, I stopped. 

I'm not sure exactly when or how it happened. But one day, I realized I was able to take a less negatively biased look at myself and my life. I thought about the people who told me that my blogging and advocacy inspired them and made them feel supported. I thought about the friends who laughed at my quirky humor and awkward but apparently endearing antics. I replayed all the conversations I'd had with others close to me in which we could completely relate to each other, in which I realized what they liked about my was my differences. And I stopped caring so much. The veneer of needing to fit into a mold began to crack.

I won't be so brave as to say I never care. I won't claim that I absolutely love having a mental health condition and I'd never, ever hope to be "normal." Because quite honestly that's BS. At least as it relates to me. There are times that I wish I reacted to individual situations more normally. Like not feeling like I'm going to piss my pants out of fear every time I have to interact in a group setting. Or not breaking down crying out of nowhere in the middle of walking my dog or watching tv or cooking dinner. Or not having an anxiety attack while parallel parking, as I posted about the other day. There are times that it is still maddeningly frustrating when a way of looking at something is so obvious to me, and yet the person I'm talking to can't possibly see it. It's like me pointing at the sky and saying "It's blue," and them saying "No it's bright green. Why can't you see that?" Because life does feel that way sometimes. 

But I've learned to embrace my differences more fully. I've learned that I'm a creative person, and that I often express myself best through writing or vision boarding or dance or even just doodling (because what I do could not possibly be considered drawing or art - not even modern art).  I've learned that I see life in pictures, in snapshots instead of in a step by step manner. I can now explain this to people who don't see how I'm approaching a situation. It doesn't always work, but at least I can offer an explanation to bridge some of the gap. I've learned that in the right company, I can share my completely random thoughts and they'll be appreciated (like the recent time I told my boyfriend out of the blue that if our dog had a creative art it would be interpretive dance).  And so I now surround myself with only the right company (when I have any control of the company, that is). 

In the end of the day, I may not have a lot of talents or enviable skill sets. But I've become significantly more comfortable with being myself. And in fact, I've decided that's a pretty valuable skill to have. Because after all, it's one of the very few things in life that you can't do wrong. 

Why Do I Blog About My Illness?

Happy November! November, for those who don't know, is National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo), which every year I say I'm going to participate in and every year I sadly do not. But lucky for me, there's another writing challenge this month that I'm much more likely to stick to, at least on a somewhat regular basis, and that is the Health Activists Writers Month Challenge (HAWMC), hosted by WEGO Health.  I'll be blogging daily based on daily prompts, so posts will probably be nice and random - just like I like them.

Day 1:  Why do you blog? 

For nearly the first almost three decades of my life, I thought that I was allergic to red food dye. That was my diagnosis, at the age of two, when I started having "episodes".  The doctor told my parents that the red food dye in the cereal I'd eaten (I want to say Captain Crunch but I may be wrong here) made me "hyper", and I was to avoid red food dye. I spent the next 28 years doing just that - admittedly, not a tough feat, unless you count the cherries in Old Fashioneds and Manhattans. But though the "episodes" calmed down for a long stretch of time, in part due to intense gymnastics training that helped with a lot of the extra "energy", in part writing them off as just being an aspect of my general personality, they didn't stop. They started back noticeably when I was in my early twenties and got increasingly worse, to the point that I'd have someone (my then-husband) hold my arms and legs so I could punch and kick the air to release all of the pent up "energy", for lack of a better word. In between these episodes, went through periods of feeling lost to myself, which grew in frequency. Finally, weeks before my thirtieth birthday, I was admitted to the ER with what I thought were horrendous panic attacks that wouldn't go away. Long story short, I was hospitalized, and upon going back to my therapist afterwards, was diagnosed with rapid cycling cyclothymia, a rare mood cycling disorder.  It was this that had actually sent me to the ER.

I had never heard of cyclothymia, and as it turns out, neither have a lot of people - even medical professionals. It's that rare - something like 0.04% of the population is diagnosed. I noticed that there was very little information accessible to the general public about my condition, yet there seems to be a massive amount of stigma. I realized that people don't have to know anything about your condition in order to begin stigmatizing, especially when it comes to mental health. To so many people, it's all the same. In fact, it's the lack of information, and the education, that feeds so much stigma. And so I set out to do my part in righting that. To tell my story, so that others have first hand accounts of what my illness is like, and to offer support to those who also battle, or feel that they may.

What do I want people to know about my condition?

• It is not bipolar disorder. Often I have to choose that from the little drop-down box of illnesses on online forms with health history, but it is a distinct condition of its own, that shares many similarities with Bipolar Disorder. 

• I cycle between hypomania and depressive episodes, sometimes as often as several times a day. While many people battle more depression, I battle more hypomania - which is not as fun as it sounds. Hypomania, I often tell people, feels like drinking an entire pot of coffee at once on an empty stomach and then trying to go about your average daily routine. You feel jittery, irritated, unable to focus or concentrate. It's in fact very frustrating. 

• I'm not always cycling. Sometimes I'm neither hypomanic or depressed - many times, in fact. Nor do I cycle mid-sentence, like the media would have you believe. I slowly begin to feel the warning signs, which generally only I can feel, and it begins to gradually transition. Again, using the coffee example, the first cup is probably ok, the second cup may make you a bit extra energized, by the time you've finished the pot, the effects are full-fledged. 

• I battle anxiety because of my condition. I've developed social anxiety, phone anxiety. This is not uncommon. 

• I can do "normal" things and have a "normal" life. I run my own business, work part time at a conference center, own a home and a dog, am in a committed relationship, and have been on several volunteer board of directors. I've also traveled to six continents and over 40 countries. 

• Not everything I do or say or react to is because of my condition. Sometimes, I'm happy or sad or emotional or annoyed or angry at something just as anyone else would be. 

• My condition does not make me weak. Just because I'm depressed or crying or feeling worthless or hopeless does not make me weak. I, and others with similar conditions, have to be incredibly strong just to get through some days. 

• I will always have this illness. It is genetic.  I was born with it, and I will have it for the rest of my life. I can't "get over it".  It just gets better or worse. I've accepted this. Please do so as well and stop waiting for me to "snap out of it." 

• I'm not lazy or over-reactive or not trying to hard or dramatic. I can't just relax or calm down. I can't just think positive thoughts or smile or be grateful. 

• Sometimes the best thing I can do is rest. I need that time mentally and physically. Sleep is critical for mood cycling, and my condition is very draining. Doing every day tasks can feel insurmountable at times. 

In addition to Cyclothymia, I also battle Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, "severe" (doctor description) IBS, vertigo, and various forms of frequent migraines. While I don't discuss these often, I do occassionally post about them, especially as they intertwine with my mental health.