I'm back.
I wasn't sure that I would make it, but I did.
I know it's not over yet, but man oh man do I feel a million times better; reassured, positive. Me. Back to stay. Dare I say, new, improved, and better than ever! ... I hope... A work in progress, of course but at least I am back on the b/right side. I know you have heard me say similar things in the past, what between my long road of fertility struggles, other friendship dramas, work layoffs, healthy issues and marital challenges, it proves a constant story of ups and downs. As such is life, no?
Yes. When we fall, particularly eternal optimists types like myself, it can be a difficult, unclear, murky path back. I when I fall, I go down hard with a boom, usually slamming my head once or twice on the way. Being an extremely silver-lining, half-full kind of gal, I can only speak for myself; when I can't get up on my own, I see it as a very deep personal failure that questions everything I believe. When my glass is cloudy and suddenly running on empty, and it gives me the impression that I have no control. The darkness, hollowness and disparity can be intensely terrifying, and override just about every aspect of my life.
That is not to say that depression, other mentally stressful or difficult times are any less challenging for say, glass-medium-full type folk, but when it is your nature to smile and see the best in everything pretty much 90% of the time and in 90% of scenarios, when things get so bad, you can't muster the glimmer of a smile or even a smize with your eyes, the decent can quickly become a nasty spiral of self-contempt, disappointment, trepidation, dread, anxiety, and all the other obscure feelings that sinking comes along with. Every day is a battle, every hour is fight to stay afloat, to keep your head above water and tread just a little while longer. There comes a point where that little while longer is just too long, unbearable, and unreachable.
I am no expert, certainly not of the medical kind, so I can only tell you about my own experience with depression, post-partum, and in my case, with what became the cherry on top, discovering I have Hypothyroidism.
My expedition with these illnesses has come at a very timely exploration of the subjects; as it would appear every show (like: Dr. Oz, Katie, Doc Zone, and Ellen to name a few,) have covered one of them, including overused medications thereby prescribed, in great detail and evaluation recently. Heck, even a film about depression and mental illnesses is released, called, appropriately, "Call Me Crazy."
Or might I just be ultra sensitive and it looks that way? As though everywhere I turn, something is being directed at me so that I will snap out of it, be reassured that I am not alone. Or maybe it is the voice of God and the signs I have been deeply praying for to get me thru. Whatever it is, something worked. Something hit a nerve, spoke to me, and has awoken my true spirit. I am climbing out of my sinking pit.
And it was not the anti-depressants, which I had been prescribed, which I never took. That Rx may very well have been the official turning point, however. A serious wake-up call: *ring, ring, things are really going too far*.
It prompted my stubbornness, and my Aries Bull readied her horns. I re-prescribed my own Placebo, consisting of:
a) Putting things back into perspective,
b) Some serious thought and mind control, and
c) Checked myself! And my deteriorating determination.
Through it all, I prayed. I prayed a lot. To my God. To the Universe. Even to Jesus and Mary and deceased people I believe are in Heaven. I started reading the First Testament when prayer wouldn't come or I was too exhausted, or I felt exasperated, just to grip something outside of my batty brain and all her negativity. Some passages bore no relevance or were completely contrary to what I connect with, but others were exactly what I needed.
Clinging to my faith (my once again renewed faith,) was both humbling and therapeutic. It helped a great deal to a) put things into perspective. It made some of my largest obstacles and worries seem so minute in the bigger picture, which helped with c) checking myself. And so on.
Somehow it has worked. It's only the start of the week, mind you, but the clouds have cleared, outside and in.
read more, next post...
PLG ~ JKF
I wasn't sure that I would make it, but I did.
I know it's not over yet, but man oh man do I feel a million times better; reassured, positive. Me. Back to stay. Dare I say, new, improved, and better than ever! ... I hope... A work in progress, of course but at least I am back on the b/right side. I know you have heard me say similar things in the past, what between my long road of fertility struggles, other friendship dramas, work layoffs, healthy issues and marital challenges, it proves a constant story of ups and downs. As such is life, no?
Yes. When we fall, particularly eternal optimists types like myself, it can be a difficult, unclear, murky path back. I when I fall, I go down hard with a boom, usually slamming my head once or twice on the way. Being an extremely silver-lining, half-full kind of gal, I can only speak for myself; when I can't get up on my own, I see it as a very deep personal failure that questions everything I believe. When my glass is cloudy and suddenly running on empty, and it gives me the impression that I have no control. The darkness, hollowness and disparity can be intensely terrifying, and override just about every aspect of my life.
I am no expert, certainly not of the medical kind, so I can only tell you about my own experience with depression, post-partum, and in my case, with what became the cherry on top, discovering I have Hypothyroidism.
My expedition with these illnesses has come at a very timely exploration of the subjects; as it would appear every show (like: Dr. Oz, Katie, Doc Zone, and Ellen to name a few,) have covered one of them, including overused medications thereby prescribed, in great detail and evaluation recently. Heck, even a film about depression and mental illnesses is released, called, appropriately, "Call Me Crazy."
Or might I just be ultra sensitive and it looks that way? As though everywhere I turn, something is being directed at me so that I will snap out of it, be reassured that I am not alone. Or maybe it is the voice of God and the signs I have been deeply praying for to get me thru. Whatever it is, something worked. Something hit a nerve, spoke to me, and has awoken my true spirit. I am climbing out of my sinking pit.
And it was not the anti-depressants, which I had been prescribed, which I never took. That Rx may very well have been the official turning point, however. A serious wake-up call: *ring, ring, things are really going too far*.
It prompted my stubbornness, and my Aries Bull readied her horns. I re-prescribed my own Placebo, consisting of:
a) Putting things back into perspective,
b) Some serious thought and mind control, and
c) Checked myself! And my deteriorating determination.
Through it all, I prayed. I prayed a lot. To my God. To the Universe. Even to Jesus and Mary and deceased people I believe are in Heaven. I started reading the First Testament when prayer wouldn't come or I was too exhausted, or I felt exasperated, just to grip something outside of my batty brain and all her negativity. Some passages bore no relevance or were completely contrary to what I connect with, but others were exactly what I needed.
Clinging to my faith (my once again renewed faith,) was both humbling and therapeutic. It helped a great deal to a) put things into perspective. It made some of my largest obstacles and worries seem so minute in the bigger picture, which helped with c) checking myself. And so on.
Somehow it has worked. It's only the start of the week, mind you, but the clouds have cleared, outside and in.
read more, next post...
PLG ~ JKF
