Friday, December 25, 2015

Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow

It is officially Christmas!
I am laying in my childhood bed feeling like I have erased a 4 from my 44 years of age.  
Tonight I was 4 all over again and I needed my mama. 

Yesterday....
I was enveloped in smiles, remember whens, hugs, friendship and pictures. I cried when I got in my car to leave.  I didn't cry out of sadness, I cried because my heart felt a rush of happiness and I felt each second, minute, hour with my friends and relished in it all. I was "present". 

Today ....

I floated -- hugging, smiling, laughing... All the things one should be doing during the holidays. 

Today ....

I lived a lie. I had an overwhelming sadness. I was drowning and watching all those around me breathing.  I received the best news about my Dad's recent health diagnosis and I couldn't feel happy.  I spent the morning with family and yummy food and hilarious stories and I couldn't feel those around me.  I drank mimosas with people I love and played games and felt empty. 

Tonight...
I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't smile. I couldn't pretend. 

Soooo this is depression. 
For all of you who wonder what it really feels like.  

I received this text tonight... 
"Why the depression All is good"

It compelled me to write and I haven't wanted to write in a long time. 


I am many things tonight 
I am grateful I know what these feelings are. 
I am grateful I have my family. 
I am overflowing with gratitude for my husband who says nothing. He doesn't have to, he holds me, he gets me and cradles me through it all. 
I am grateful it is the birthday of Jesus.  
I am grateful I'm still able to be in my childhood bed with my parents down the hall. 

Most of all.... I am grateful that my feelings are temporary.  

Depression doesn't discriminate and choose which day it wants to arrive.  

My friend is right... All is good.  That is how I know what clinical depression truly is. Feeling empty when I should be full. 
I'm sorry for not being present at times and not returning calls etc.  I truly am.  I think about it often. I'm also sorry for not being able to explain why I don't at times.  I want to blame the family funeral this week, the work deadlines, the lack of sleep, the horrid rain and gloomy weather but the reality is I can't. I can only blame the disease and promise that I will do all I can to fight back.  

Tomorrow.....

A new beginning. A fresh start.  Another chance to wake up and be present and grateful.  

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night. 







Friday, September 11, 2015

Second chances

There are always iconic moments in time where your world stands still and you stop and know that life will never be the same after that moment.  We remember where we were, how we felt, the chills, the tears, the heartache.  

My Mom called this morning and said where were you on 9/11?  "I was in Savannah in my pajamas crying because I had learned that my husband was having an affair and my world as I knew it had ended."  She said, "I'm so sorry I forgot and didn't realize the connection Natalie."  I said, "I'm not sorry Mom, look at where I am now.  Second chances are the best."  



It's been 14 Septembers since that fateful date.  We have all by the grace of God moved on but are forever changed.  There is no expiration date on the disease that led to the terrorism of our great country.  I wanted to share my favorite pictures from 9/11 which encompass what I wish our world would remember more -- coming together as one America regardless of race, creed or color.    #neverforget
















  

Thursday, September 10, 2015

Live for your littles



I've always loved the little things ever since I was little.  My love for the littles has only grown stronger as I have aged.  And, since March of 2014, I would say I'm over the top in my love for the littles.  We recently went on a much needed vacation to Mexico.  I'm teary eyed as I type this and filled with so much gratefulness.  I sat there at lunch the first day and said to JT, "my heart is so full."  I realized how completely cheesy it sounded at the moment so it was then that I began a collection of "littles" to myself......like the thrill of finding baby strawberry jelly jars at breakfast, hearing you look so pretty tonight at dinner and the comfort of neighbors at home being 911 to my sweet Dad in need.  The littles are endless in my world of recovery.  I believe what we choose to focus on influences all we do in life.  I encourage myself and you to pay attention to the littles around you.  These are things and moments of being exactly where we're supposed to be with the people we're supposed to be with.  

What is in your collection of littles?  

Slow down, live for your littles.     



Saturday, August 22, 2015

I'm crying now, but I'll laugh again

I think back to Junior High years and how I used to handle sadness.  Honestly I think it was more through crooning to Peter Cetera's Hard Habit to Break while thinking that my world was crumbling around me and I would never find love again.  I can laugh at it now.  I honored and acknowledged those feelings big time via Bret Michaels, Journey and Phil Collins.  

Now sadness feels so different when it sinks in.  I feel a bit anxious when I feel even a tinge of it because I worry that I may relapse into the deep hole I found myself in months ago.  I know it's normal to experience bouts of melancholy but when you've spent days locked behind doors in a hospital, there is a hypersensitivity to ensuring it never happens again.   

I found out today that my childhood best friend's Mom passed away.  I found myself staring at my computer screen and overwhelmed with complete and utter sadness.  And for once, I didn't want to fight it.  I wasn't scared of the sadness.  I didn't even worry that it would lead to a bump in the road of recovery.  Instead, I just wanted to sit, stare, cry, remember, be grateful for my idyllic childhood with my friend and just be.  Perhaps I was onto something at age 15 listening to Every Rose Has Its Thorn and crying along with Bret.  I acknowledged my feelings.  I think I'll try that tonight.  It's okay to be sad sometimes.  Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.   



Monday, June 22, 2015

Unbridled wild grace

I don't know where I'm safe to be "unfine". 

People want to understand.  I think they really do.  It's impossible to get it unless you feel it.  I can't get the anguish a parent feels losing a child, the agony of a cancer diagnosis, the defeat of losing a job, etc.  I try to understand and the best I can do is lend an ear, an act of kindness, a hug, an "I'm here", and lastly, "what do you need from me right now to help?"

I feel broken mentally and physically.  I feel my circle of safe people dwindling.  It's so tiresome to the people who want me to be fixed by now.   It's tiresome to me.  It's been 472 days of people calling me brave and for that I am ever grateful.  I am working on so many things right now the list is overwhelming.  I'm working on not making assumptions, a pelvic tuck to help my SI joint, not taking things personally, coping with my new lower back problem, exercising am and pm and most importantly as of late, extending grace to others as I want them to extend to me.  I am having a really hard time with it all. 

I read in another blog the terminology - UNBRIDLED WILD GRACE.  
We should always extend unbridled wild grace because of this:  None of us really understands what it's like to be anyone else.  So many times throughout my day today I thought, "no one understands."  I am wrong.  God understands and my prayer tonight is for me to see others as He sees them and that I can see AS THEY see. The blog summarized what I am seeking:  

Wild grace for friends who believe differently from us.
Wild grace for people in different life stages from us.
Wild grace for friends of other ethnicities.
Wild grace for all so we can love with our whole selves.
And wild grace so we can be loved as well. 

Right now my wild grace is in the form of two little pills and they are a blessing indeed.
May we all have wild grace.....unbridled (I love that word). 


Wednesday, May 13, 2015

It happens

Every time I want to stop writing, it happens.
Every time I feel embarrassed to post something on instagram about mental illness, it happens.  

"It happens" is....

someone reaches out.  

Is a life saved?  I don't know.  
What I do know is a person hurting is finally feeling unashamed to talk.  

Monday afternoon we sat outside on our back porch and cried.  
We cried because I was Madison Holleran.
We cried because I sat in a therapists office too and discussed suicide prior to hospitalization.
We cried mostly because I am here, he is here, God is here and we are here...in the now. 

Please click the links below and read the story for yourself, for your children and for me.  

Instagram only showed part of the story

Life Unfiltered






The reality of this situation and many others is that there are numerous reasons why people may hide the struggles they are dealing with; but a key issue is that people my be fearful of the reaction they will receive when they share their thoughts or ask for help.  WE have to make it ok to let people know that it is ok to ask for help by creating the space among your friends and family that allows for open conversation where mental health concerns are part of the discussion. 



Be educated. Help a friend. Help yourself.
National Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-273-TALK (8255)


“The loneliest people are the kindest. The saddest people smile the brightest. The most damaged people are the wisest. All because they do not wish to see anyone else suffer the way they do.” – Anonymous

Friday, May 1, 2015

Heal and Feel

I haven't written a lot lately which is never a good sign.  

I explored why this morning and I think it's mainly because I feel like I will come across as one big giant complaint and I truly try not to be negative Natalie.  The beauty of this is they make a DBSA support group and they are more than happy to listen to my everything.  In summary, I'm struggling with managing my mental illness combined with my physical illness -- both of which don't have blood tests to determine how well I am doing in each arena.  One day up, one day down and I feel that no one understands either plight.    

This led me to thinking about the overall stigma and misunderstanding of mental illness in America.  The first tweet I saw this morning was one of Glenn Close discussing mental illness.  Her video was so powerful.  

"one in four people will be touched by mental illness "and yet it's criminally underfunded and ignored."

Almost every week I hear something along the lines of, "she just doesn't understand", "my Mom thinks I'm just lazy and doesn't get why doing one task a day is all I can truly take on", "You have everything in the world to be happy about, why on earth are you sad?"  I read something an example in a blog that struck home for me and may help others in understanding depression.  "My blood sugar was low last night and then I filled myself with good thoughts and remembered all I am grateful for, and now I no longer have diabetes!"                  


When we all take on the same mantra as Glenn Close and her Bring Change 2 Mind campaign and start sharing things such as having depression is FACT, not feeling, perhaps then people will become more understanding and compassionate to mental illness.  I have often said, "you can't heal what you don't feel."  Owning and admitting my illness is one of the bravest things I have done in my life.    

I struggle to explain depression to people.  This is really hard for me but I'm going to give some examples of racing thoughts I used to think while laying in bed.  I do this simply for someone who may be living with a person with mental illness to hopefully understand your loved one more.  I also do this for someone undiagnosed to know you are not alone and there is hope and help.  It is working.  I have people reaching out to me weekly. 

My former racing thoughts....
Why do you think you would get invited to that party?  No one likes you and they can't relate to you anyway because you don't have kids like they do and you don't want them so they think you hate their kids.  Why are you wearing that outfit that makes you look bigger than you even are?  Why are you even attempting to tell a story when you can't remember half of it because we all know your memory sucks?  You are not smart at all with numbers and soon everyone will know that and you will lose your job.  Why would you get out of bed today when you have zero to be happy about?  Get out of bed so you can fake your way through the day like you always do.  No one has time for you so quit thinking they do.  She didn't reply to your text because you are not important to her.  She didn't show up for your get together because she doesn't want to be around you.  Just stop trying all of these different meds, they don't work and never will, this is who you are, a crazy person.    

I sit here with twofold tears.  Happy tears because I am standing vertical today and in recovery.  Sad tears because there are so many suffering in silence, undiagnosed and feeling hopeless.  My story is not unique.  There are close to 16 million people suffering with this debilitating illness.  I am unique in my recovery because I have chosen not to suffer in silence and I have an amazing Psychiatrist who found the perfect combo of drugs for me, an amazing therapist, an amazing supportive husband and amazing friends and family who have chose to stand by me even when isolation and sleep were my only escape.  

May is Mental Health Awareness Month. 

It is a month to consciously make an effort to try to walk in someone else's shoes.  

Just because someone is smiling doesn't mean he or she isn't battling depression.  

Just because someone weighs a healthy 120 doesn't mean he or she isn't battling an eating disorder.  

Just because someone acts confident doesn't mean he or she isn't taking medication to put their anxiety disorder at bay.  

Not all pain is physical and not all wounds are visible.  

We all know someone.  Join me in making an effort to be kinder, to be open to discussions about mental illness, to beat the stigma and embarrassment we all feel about coming forward to own our illnesses.  





     

Sunday, April 19, 2015

The phone call no one ever wants....

It's been a particularly hard week full of peaks and valleys. 
I have to blog this off my chest. Bear with me....


  • My right SI joint went out.  Who knew it could be put back in with a little "now I'm going to have to beat you up to do this".  Rough rough day. 
  • Happy news!  X-ray of hip back with no issues 
  • A friend going through a really rough time and I can't fix it. I can only pray through it. 
  • Went back to support group for the first time in weeks. Lost my patience -- I am attributing it to being under house arrest for 20 plus days. I wasn't pleased with my reaction. While frustrating when one person takes up 75 percent of the meeting, their reality is they needed that 75% and if it helped them or anyone else in that room, that's all that really matters. Perspective.  
  • Feeling cooped up and let down by people in my life this week. Aka I'm playing the victim which isn't attractive or cool for anyone involved. 
  • Drove myself to get a pedi today to lift my spirits. :) it worked. 
  • Super excited thinking about my friends wedding this weekend and her happiness and reminding myself that 2nd chances are the best for her too. 

And then it happened... 

The phone call no one ever wants to get about a loved one. 

My voicemail from my frantic mom said something along the lines of Natalie I just got home and Dad was unresponsive and couldn't talk and the ambulance is on the way. Please call me. 
I fell apart. I couldn't do anything but hand the phone to JT to call. I have been prepping in therapy for this very thing and I crumbled. Every coping skill I know vanished. 
And here I am unable to travel that far. 

After many calls, texts later, we are praying it isn't a stroke and is blood sugar related.  We are awaiting many test results.  Thank goodness for my brother being able to go and make me feel as if I were in the room.  I am a Daddy's girl and not being able to be by his side is killing me.  And thank God for JT's strength.  While it is 425 am and I have not closed my eyes due to back pain and worry, I'm still focusing my thoughts on the prayer JT said with me tonight and the sweet friends who are always there to lift me and my family.  God has this!  

I am not proud of how I handled all of this tonight but this I can guarantee you-- I will learn and grow from it all.  I will continue to practice replacing negative thoughts with positive. 

Don't believe everything you......think!  


Wednesday, April 8, 2015

iPhone calendar

I am a huge believer of "Live in the Now" especially because the two people who have contributed to my depression recovery, preach it.....my Psychiatrist and my Therapist.  

Unfortunately.....  Living in the now right now is excruciating for me.  I won't bore you with the long drawn out story but I will summarize it in a very long lengthy sentence if only for my own sanity to get it off my chest.

Random back pain, nausea, in NYC, City MD appt, Shots, Business meeting, Back to Hotel, more nausea due to excessive pain, took entire hour to dress, collapse in lobby, Ambulance to Lenox Hill, batteries of tests, blood work, CT scans with no results, JT flies to NYC, Filled meds, wheel chair, long flight, tears, crawling, suni crawling with me, Suni washing my hair in a bin propped on a suitcase, Resurgens X-rays, no diagnosis, we cry and pray, Schedule MRI, Arrive at facility, MRI machine breaks, Travel to Kennesaw for MRI, MRI shows zip, we cry and pray some more, Appt w Primary Care Doctor, Primary care doctor misdiagnosis with shingles along w the sweet quote I can't help you, running out of pain meds, Begging for pain clinic appt, Appt at Northside Spine & Pain Center, finally an angel diagnosing me with Sacroiliac Joint Dysfunction & an inflamed hip bursa sac, we cry and pray, Referred radiating pain worsens, Ice, More medicine, Physical therapy, 60 grueling exercises per day at home,  radiating, more ice, sweet Ben bringing lunch laughs Easter basket, dinner and love, PT cancellation yesterday, Parents half way to Atlanta only to turn back around, more tears, a friend to listen thank God, Sitting upstairs knowing something is downstairs I need but I can't get, a PT schedule to be hashed out who takes me when while JT tries to work and I work in 45 minute segments.  Day 18 of being house bound sans Doctor appointments.  Scour YouTube videos and do my own exercises and feel amazing tonight... wait, no it is 114 am and I had to apply ice and take a pain pill.  
I AM OVER IT!   I'VE BEEN HOSTING AN UGLY PITY PARTY AND NO ONE SEEMS TO GET IT!  

I couldn't include my sweet husband in the above litany because there are not enough words in  the dictionary to say how supportive he has been.  He cries with me, stays up all night with me   
when I hurt, prays with me, lays on the floor and does the same exercises and counts with me and many other blessings.  With each trial we have been given, our marriage grows stronger and we as individuals do as well. 

I've been praying for a sign as I lay here unable to rest and it was here all along all day on my iPhone calendar. 

APRIL 7
Mom-stroke-2007



On this day, my Mom came dangerously close to leaving us. She experienced a double bleed stroke and was life flighted to Emory.  If my Mom can persevere and relearn how to walk, write, tie a shoe, etc. I CAN AND WILL survive this chronic pain. 

A text my friend Dusty sent this week is resonating as well tonight, "tell her she has the same God within her!"  It made me think to tell myself, "I have the same strength she had in 2007 within me."  

I CAN DO THIS!  

I may not be on a sunny beach like half of Instagram is at the moment but I am so grateful for 
God's perspective and message to me tonight along with the strength my Mom passed along. 










Friday, March 13, 2015

Home sweet home

Everyday is special.  
Even a rainy Friday the 13th.  
Sometimes we just need a reminder to realize just how special a day truly is.  

Mine was in the form of a text this morning. 

A year ago today I was coming to pick you up from the hospital. It was one of my fave days ever.

This morning I was complaining about the time change, the long week, bad dreams and then I realized...  

I'm home.  

I left these doors a year ago and entered a new world.  A world of healing, recovery, love, spirituality, support.  I never saw the rain or the sunshine behind those locked doors.  

It feels so good to be home.   




Friday, March 6, 2015

Joy in my journey

A year ago on Friday, I was in severe pain.  
Today, I am celebrating my recovery.  

Below was what was waiting for me on the Keurig this morning.  





In celebrating "my now", below are a few things which stand out over the past 365 days.  It feels so great to help others brave the waters I have treaded.  

1.  Live in the now.  Now
2.  There is always hope.  Hope
3.  Talk therapy combined with medication is key.
4.  Ask for help.
5.  Be grateful.  Some people are praying for what I am blessed with. Gratitude
6.  My situation is not permanent, pervasive or personal. Attitude determines altitude
7.  You have to feel to heal.  Feel to heal
8.  Celebrate me!  It's a wonderful life 
9.  Sleep = quality of life.  Lights Out!
10.  Suicide is not selfish.  Robin Williams
11.  Support groups rock!  Support 
12.  Don't make assumptions.  Assume
13.  My husband loves me for me.  I understand. 
14.  Family check ins are paramount.  Check in 
15.  Be transparent.   

Thanks for being on my journey.  




Monday, March 2, 2015

Every scar has a story

A short but sweet post today.  

A friend complimented me this weekend. 
However, she had no idea she had done so.  
She said, "I told your story but I didn't use names."  
She told my story to someone in need.  
My story of depression, suicide attempt, therapy and most importantly....recovery.  
This is why I blog.  This is why I attend support groups and speak out. 
This is why I'm transparent about my illness.

I don't believe you can heal fully without telling your story.  


Every scar has a story....don't be afraid to tell it.






Thursday, February 26, 2015

When the past is present

When I was a little girl and climbed up on the table at Dr. Grady Black's office to receive my yearly shots, I remember the fear.  Yet, I also remember the trust.  The trust that he was always going to make me feel better.  And, he did.  We are taught to trust figures of authority -- Doctors, Pastors, Teachers, Administration and still to this day, I put my trust in my Doctor.  

I'm having a rainy day inside.  It's time to exercise the coping skills I've been taught and blogging is at the top of the list.  In writing things out, I am focusing on the top 2 things my Doctor said to me last week when leaving his office.  

1.  Live in the now.  
2.  We cannot control others actions.  

Simplistic words, yet truly powerful when we put them to practice.  When past actions come calling, stay in the present.  Do not think about what has happened before or what might happen.  Be in control and not fearful of the past.  The past can serve as a learning experience as long as it doesn't limit our future.    



Monday, February 23, 2015

Support, it's not just an undergarment

This weekend we discussed how long I have been mentally ill.  Maybe my whole life?  Maybe since high school?  Maybe since 2001?  All I do know is depression has been a part of me just like allergies have been and I can't remember the last time I didn't wake up sneezing.  

We are within a couple of weeks of my hospitalization anniversary.  This has caused me to reflect a lot over the past year.  Mainly, it has caused me to be grateful for my support system.  I sit in many of my support group meetings listening to people who have no one, no one to prod them to get help, no one to listen, no one to ask if they have had their meds, no one to tell them they care.  We all need people in our lives.  I have found that a support system consisting of old friends combined with new is so healthy for me.  It is so refreshing to receive an email or a text from someone who has walked in my shoes, been hospitalized and who "gets it".  It's like having our own secret code.  At the same time, there is nothing better than an old friend reaching out and still loving me for who I am today.  We are all broken in some way and in need of people to help repair our cracks.  

JT will turn as red as his hair when reading this....but I've been saving all of my "support system" messages since last year to help me through a rainy day.  I say it often and I'll say it again, reach out.  You make a difference to people in ways you will never know.  

Thank you all for being a force of support in my journey.      


I love you so much.  You are so strong...you continue to amaze me.

That was sweet.  You do make a positive difference in many lives Nat...most especially mine.  You just may not realize it (or perhaps I do not tell you enough).  :)


I hope this was therapeutic for you.  It’s a good thing to reassess…but know that I love you for who you are…right now.  And for who I know you want to be…and all things in between.  You are such a good soul…a light in my life…and my love.


Well said.  We must stumble through some of the past…if only not to repeat it.  But we will not get mired there.


I’m so happy and lucky to have you in my life.  I love you so much.


I love you so much.  You are so very brave…I wonder if you know that.  You make me so proud so often…and I have a tear in my eye right now.


Nice blog today.  Love that pic of your parents by the fire.








Wednesday, February 11, 2015

It's hard to forget someone who gave you so much to remember.

I hope this post doesn't come across as me being depressed.  I won't deny that the freezing cold, the dirty snow in NYC, 3 days of the stomach flu, a cancelled LA trip where I would finally get some vitamin D all merged together don't make a great recipe for February.  

I've been grasping at straws lately as to why I can't seem to pick up a pen and paper and write a note like I used to.  I can dream a note.  I can see my cursive, dramatic N in Natalie and can rattle off line after line of meaningful, affectionate words in my head.  It's almost as if I need a dictation device.  I often think about all of the special people who I know I owe a note to and I hope they can somehow feel how much I care, how much I love them and how much I thank them for things they have done for me.  I realize Emily Post is not proud of me and my Mom is quite horrified as this is just "not how you were taught Natalie Ann".  

This morning I was delayed out of Atlanta and as I sat on the runway, I flipped through old pictures on my phone realizing how bad I needed to delete several to open up memory.  Towards the end, I had deleted 46 out of 1,505 pictures.  Yes, 46.  I couldn't delete my memories.  They were too precious to me.  Below, is my favorite of the day bringing full circle the art of the handwritten note everyone in my family always has believed in.    

  

This note then led to me asking for peanuts from the flight attendant which led to me pouring them in my Diet coke exactly like my Granddaddy used to do.  













And finally, this led to me to a tiny scrap of paper I found when cleaning out my Grandparents belongings years ago.  I know I was meant to find this today.  I was meant to shed a tear or two tonight yet smile through my tears to know and feel my loved ones all around me, past and present.    

And what comforting words my Grandmother hand wrote for me to find.....

Mourn not for me for I'm at rest.  My soul is with my Saviour blest. 
I am from sin and sorrow free.  Prepare dear friend to follow me.  









It's hard to forget someone who gave you so much to remember.