The "Januaries"

This month is cold, dark, post UGA loss and holidays.  An old friend of mine coined the term "the Januaries" and it sums up the feelings I have pretty well.  The last two mornings of college football news cycles have gutted me.  Two suicides.  Two 21-22 young men.  Two families, universities and friends struggling to find out why. 


Washington State quarterback Tyler Hilinski found dead from an apparent suicidePULLMAN, Wash. (AP) — Washington State quarterback Tyler Hilinski has died from an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound.

Grandson of K-State coach Bill Snyder, son of Sean Snyder dies at 22

WHY?  This word is what compelled me to finally blog again.  I fear these poor families may never find the answer they are so desperately searching for.  When experiencing severe depression, your entire world is distressed and there is no door to escape.  This makes suicide almost seductive, because it seemingly offers an available escape option.  Unless you have experienced these feelings of despair, it is impossible to comprehend why.  How do I know this?  I know this because on March 7, 2014, I was that girl needing an escape.  Fortunately, my story includes an amazing Psychiatrist, therapist, husband, friends and medicines, which have all been good to me.  

Did you know that in a recent study, 1 in 5 Americans suffer a mental illness each year?  This isn't referring to a sadness you feel from a break up, this is referring to the thought of feeling like lifting an elephant may seem easier than getting out of bed.  I long for the day when discussing Zoloft and Prozac to treat your brain are no different than discussing Amoxicillin to treat an infection.  I long for the day depression shows up on an MRI or an X-ray.  I long for the day mental illness isn't surrounded by stigma in America.  

If you went to the grocery store today, you were surrounded by someone in mental pain.  Be kind.  Smile.  

If you got together with a group of friends last night, it is likely that one of them was suffering mentally in some form.  Be kind.  Listen.  Take the time.  

If you are feeling sad, lonely, depressed, dark, grey - seek help.  It won't be a quick fix; however, I promise it will be worth all you have to do to feel normal again.  I used the word normal intentionally becomes when it comes to mental health, it should be normal to discuss.  A list of help outlets are below:

text HOME to 741741 to text with a crisis counselor.  
Suicide prevention hotline 1-800-273-8255

In closing, I read this in an article and found it so meaningful. 

"HELP."  Four letters, one syllable.  It's the most profound prayer of all.   

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.  

     

Every 13.3 minutes, there is another Robin Williams

September was Suicide Prevention Month.  The beginning of October pushed me to feel compelled to share another part of my story.  The battle continues for us all.  Every 13.3 minutes, there is another Robin Williams.  We must not judge from the outside when we know nothing about the inside.  We must all continue to fight the stigma surrounding mental illness and help others feel they can not only ask for help but also receive adequate help. 

  

A day in March....

I remember logging into my Psychiatrist’s practice website to check my appointment status and staring frozen at the words “condition” and “began”. 

How did I get here?  How did my condition become clinical/major depression?  How did I receive a beginning date of 11/1/2001 when I don’t even remember how this even all began?  In a warped way, it was the beginning of solace.  The beginning of understanding all of the sleepless nights, the racing thoughts, the hiding of my sadness, guilt, self loathing, forgetfulness, weight gain and low energy.  Many of my friends and family still struggle with the words, “how could I not have known?”  Honestly, after months of examining myself, I don’t know that I saw the freight train coming either. 

Although I chose to personally disclose my mental illness, I still see myself concerned about others perceptions about me, which in turn, has created anxiety.  This is something I have never struggled with before.  My recovery has had peaks and valleys and honestly has been uncomfortable at times.  Self-examination isn’t fun.  I am at times at war with myself.  Personal disclosure was important for me but at the same time, it still causes frustration in the overall explanation of mental illness and depression.  How can I explain to others what I don’t even understand at times?

I remember saying to my Doctor, “I have no reason to be unhappy.  I love my husband.  He loves me.  I’m a newlywed.  We have a new house.  My parents love me.  I have wonderful friends.  I have a job I truly love.  I am so blessed.”  As I was saying all of those things, there weren’t enough tissues in his office to wipe my tears. 

Are you me? 

Do you have a friend that you think is me? 

Please ask for help.  It’s okay to count your blessings if you are me, but it’s also okay not to hide your sadness.  There is help available.  There is recovery.  There is hope.  I am hope.    

Need help? In the U.S., call 1-800-273-8255 for the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline.