Our world is broken

Our world is broken.  We have kids with PTSD from stepping over the blood of their precious classmates in school hallways, we have the leader of our country name calling on social media - setting examples for our youth which say, it's okay to pitch a fit if you don't get your way.  We have families sitting at the dinner table staring at cell phones instead of interacting with one another.  We have a suicide rate which is climbing year after year.  Every 12 minutes that ticks by, another life is gone.  45,000 people in 2016 experienced the mental anguish of seeing no way out of their torment.   A 1-800 number is not going to solve this problem.  It is bigger than a hot line.  We as human beings have to communicate with one another.  We have to know it is okay not to be okay.        

Recently, a handful of people asked me one word which completely threw me for a loop.  The word was "why"?  Why did he take his own life?  What was the catalyst?  I wanted to scream!  In fairness, I've only been on that side of the fence, the suicidal side.  I haven't been the devastated friend or family member asking why.  What I will say if you ask me why I overdosed, why I took pills, why I became a survivor of suicide, I do not have a clear concrete answer for you.  I did not have a particular "trigger" which caused me to pick a random Friday afternoon in March 2014 to want to end it all.  You see, that is what depression and mental illness is all about -- a tortured mind not thinking rationally.  Depression is many things to me.  Depression is a disconnect from reality, it is keeping things bottled up with a tight lid, it is not texting a friend back, it is the fear and assumption something bad is going to happen, it is crying for no reason, it is laying in bed craving sleep for an escape only to be kept awake by racing thoughts.  

I understand hopelessness.  
I understand darkness.
I understand despair.

But more than these 3 things, I also understand life, love and joy.  I am committed to recovery.  

My biggest hope, wish and prayer is for our society to try to understand mental illness.  Keep the conversation going.  With each sad story in the news, I am seeing somewhat of a #metoo movement if you will.  On twitter, there were so many courageous people coming forward talking about their depression and struggles after the deaths of Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain.  I felt so proud to be able to reply to people giving them resources which help me continue my journey of recovery and life.

For those of you who have lost a family member or friend to suicide, it is never one person's fault.  Not yours, not someone else's and not the suicide victim's.  Instead, the fault belongs to the natural forces that create the potential for suicide, which many times include mental illness.  The forces of suicide cause irrational thoughts.  They rob the person of the ability to see any possibility for change.  They connive and plot to make the person believe that suicide is the only way to end their pain.  Usually it is not just one issue, but instead a multitude of problems, that lead to suicide.  There are no simple explanations.  Be compassionate to yourself in your grief.  The below link is an article more eloquent than I could ever write.   All friends and family should read this who lost someone to suicide.  It is raw, real and compassionate. 



https://psychcentral.com/lib/an-open-letter-to-children-who-lose-a-parent-to-suicide/

Finally, I want to share these tweets which I feel explain so much. 

@caissie So many messages telling those who are struggling to reach out.  Fair enough, but part of what depression does is mutes your ability to reach.  If you are NOT depressed and you see someone struggling, YOU reach out.  If you don't see someone who used to be around, YOU reach out.  

It can be kind of scary to a regular person who thinks they don't know what to do.  It is certainly awkward as hell.  Who cares, thought?  Ask, "Are you ok?" Say, "I am worried about you." Ask, "Can I get in tough with someone for you?"  Even here on twitter.  Don't mind your business.  

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.   

Hope and Help

It is hard for me to express the sheer pain and grief I feel when hearing about a suicide.  The closest thing I can equate to it is how PTSD must feel to people. The tears flow and my mind swims back to March 7, 2014. Mental illness survivor's guilt perhaps?  Why did I survive and they didn't?  My biggest prayer today is that people will try to understand how depression envelopes your brain and incapacitates you and controls every aspect of who you are. Untreated, every single day is a battle to live, to cope, to get out of bed.  

Huff Post:  "It's not even just sadness, it's physical pain and passiveness. The world around you keeps moving and you are there, remaining still and lethargic. That's the thing about depression -- it's silent, and it doesn't care if you are black or white, male or female, rich or poor. You can be standing on a train next to someone reading a book and that person could be screaming inside, clinging on to their last hope of life."

There is hope and help.  I am living proof of this hope and help.  
Reach out.
Be a friend.
Send a loving text.
Care.

In closing, I wanted to repost JT's blog he wrote because I think it is important for people to understand just how difficult mental illness is to see in others.  I pray for this family to feel wrapped in God's love and understanding as they grieve.  

I understand.

That two word sentence is the biggest lie I ever told my wife.  The biggest one I ever told myself.  I understand.  No, I didn’t.  No, I don’t.  No, I’m not certain I ever fully will.  Because I didn’t understand Depression.  To me, it was simply a word…a feeling…it passes, right?  Heck, they named the illness after an emotion…how stupid is that!?  Perhaps that alone made it difficult for me to understand.  Perhaps it is my thick-headed, stubbornness.  Perhaps it is a combination of things…but the fact remains I didn’t understand what my wife was going through.  Oh yes, I said I understood…and maybe I even thought I did.  But that was akin to me sticking my toe in a freezing pool and saying it was cold…while my wife was immersed in the deep end.  Like me opening a cellar door and stating how dark it was…while my wife was enveloped in the darkness.  Like me trying to pick up a heavy weight…proclaiming how heavy it was and putting it down….while my wife was dragging it around.  I never understood.  I couldn’t possibly, because I wasn’t living it.  I realize that I may never truly understand it…because I believe that in order to truly understand…one must live it…not stick their toe in.  I didn’t realize she was freezing, in darkness, and carrying a heavy load…with no one to help…because I wasn’t there.  A guilt I will carry…but that’s a story for another time.  For this time, it is simply one point…I now know I didn’t understand.  My wife suffers from Depression.  So to me, while technically I do not ‘suffer’ from it…I deal with it.  Because I am in this with her…together we are in the deep end and swimming to shallow waters, leaving the dark for a brighter place, helping each other to carry the heavy loads.  I want to understand…and I can try to do that better…but I also think that may be missing the mark just a bit.  Maybe it is not about me fully understanding.  Maybe it is about something else.  Maybe it is not “I understand” that she and people that suffer from Depression need to hear.  Maybe it is not hearing anything…but more seeing and knowing…

I’m sorry.  You are not alone.  I am here now.

My to do list changed

I'm a suicide survivor.
My to do list used to consist of a few random mundane daily tasks

• feed the kitties
• check emails

My daily to do list revised quickly 2 years ago.

• save my life

It's easy to get lost in the sea of emails, phone calls, texts.  As a survivor, there is always that lingering word of recovery.  Recovery means a new way of life, less friends, less drinking, weekly appointments, daily pills, side effects, weight gain, new boundaries and a hypersensitivity to mental illness stigma. 

Conversely, it also means hope, faith, grace, love, patience, kindness, clarity, strength, understanding and serenity.  

I write this today as a reality check for us all. 
We live in our own bubble.  
It is Tuesday.  Only day 2 of the week yet already I have had a friend admitted into Peachford and a text telling me of a suicide of a husband and father.  

People, it's complicated yet at the same time so simple.
A brain can get sick.  
You may have the flu, I have mental illness.  We both are sick.  

The American Psychiatric Association Foundation has a Campaign to Change Direction hoping to change the way America addresses mental health issues.  
With 1 in every 4-5 people having a diagnosable mental health condition, we should all make it a point to "know the five signs."  

1. Personality Change          4. Poor Self-Care

2. Agitation                           5. Hopelessness
3. Withdrawal 

I don't have all the answers but I do know that reaching out to someone could be the exact hope, answer, kindness they need.  

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

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.  

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.

HOPE

I've blogged before about Robin Williams.  I've wanted to blog about a person I went to high school with.  Today I am blogging about a local Methodist Minister.  A celebrity, a GHS alum and a Minister all having one thing in common -- suicide by depression.  Folks, it does not discriminate.  

There are still days I don't want to face the world, return an email, a call, a text, go to an appointment, get out of bed.  However, there are so many more days now that I truly cherish and am so overwhelmed with happiness that it feels like I can beat this depression.  That happiness comes from my husband and from friends and the laughter we share with one another, it comes from family members and their unconditional love for me.  It comes from having a relationship with God and relying on devotions and scripture to lift me.  I love when friends and family are able to penetrate the barrier of insecurities that depression creates, allowing me to feel love again.  Those are the days that make life worth living and that keep me fighting.  

I fight the battle in my own brain daily.  Some days I feel like I am winning and some I feel like the disease wants me to lose.  Especially when I see others lose their own battles.  When someone takes their life, it is tragic in so many realms.  On a personal level for me, it is terrifying!  Because if someone like that - someone spiritual, talented, beloved, seemingly with everything to live for - if someone like that loses their fight, do people like me have hope?  The answer is yes.  Hope is letting every one who is struggling know they are not alone.  Hope is knowing there is help to be had.  Hope is understanding.  Hope is compassion.  Hope is happiness.  There is hope.  I am hope.  

Tomorrow night, I will go to show others there is hope.  I will go to my support group meeting to lift others who are hurting at the recent loss of their dear friend, father, husband, mentor and minister to this dreadful disease.  As hard as it is to walk through that door sometimes, others have done it for me when I have needed lifting week after week.  In closing, time and again I am reminded how important it is to share my story.  I received this message after going to my hometown to a visitation at the funeral home.  The old adage always rings true, be kind people, for you never know the battle people are fighting within.  Show up, be present for people.  You may be all the difference they need that very day.           

It was so good to see you tonight! I want you to know how very brave I think you are sharing your story with others!

Jan 5

I have a friend that suffers from depression I share your blogs with her.

We laugh & cry together & most importantly she knows she is not alone. Thank you for that!

Sports Illustrated Crying Session

I went to my weekly therapy appointment this morning, had a great session, grabbed some soup to combat the cold, sat down at my desk and began to scroll through twitter to catch up on the tabloids, Auburn hate week, Ferguson drama and any other tidbits I found interesting before digging into work emails.  My husband thanks God daily that he is married to a rare female entity who is obsessed with college football.  Hence, the reason I follow Sports Illustrated.  I was drawn to these two tweets.  I remembered in the back of my mind that Ryan had been dating one of the Bachelor contestants making her suicide headlines for many tabloids.    

http://www.si.com/nba/2014/11/13/ryan-anderson-gia-allemand

Chris BallardVerified account‏@SI_ChrisBallard

For journalists writing about suicide, strongly recommend visiting the AFSP media site: http://www.afsp.org/understanding-suicide/for-the-media … . So many misconceptions

Sports Illustrated @SInow · 3h3 hours ago

Love, Loss & Survival: Ryan Anderson tries to move forward after his girlfriend's suicide http://on.si.com/1zmDPEL 

Honestly, I don't know that I have any tears left after reading this article.  I hope you will all take 5 minutes to read his courageous story.  I try not to take myself back to that dark place ever but when I read a compelling story like Gia's, I see myself and I remind myself how important it is to try to save others.  If you don't have time to read the article, at least read the excerpt below.  I am also bullet pointing what I feel are staggering statistics about suicide.     




I had no idea. It’s a phrase you hear often after a suicide. He seemed happy. She seemed fine. There were literally NO red flags. Rarely if ever is this true. There are almost always warning signs. Research shows that 90% of people who die by suicide suffer from mental disorders or substance abuse. In most cases the condition is untreated. “People are really good at cloaking it, so to a certain percentage of people [suicide] does seem out of the blue,” says Christine Moutier, M.D., chief medical officer for the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. “But that’s partly because they don’t know what to look for, and partly because mental health problems are so stigmatized that we don’t let on what’s going on inside.”

• In 2011, 39,518 suicide deaths were reported in the US making suicide the 10th leading cause of death for Americans. That year, someone in the U.S. died by suicide every 13.3 minutes.

• In 2012, 40,600 suicides were reported, making suicide the 10th leading cause of death for Americans. In that year, someone in the country died by suicide every 12.9 minutes.

• At least 90 percent of all people who died by suicide were suffering from a mental illness at the time, most often depression.

• Among people who die by suicide, depression is more common than any other other disorder. Therefore, efforts to educate primary care providers about the diagnosis and treatment of depression are especially important. Research has shown that certain symptoms in the context of  depression raise the risk of suicide. These include intense anxiety, panic attacks, desperation, hopelessness, feeling that one is a burden, loss of interest and pleasure, and delusional thinking.

• In all age groups in the U.S., about 75 to 80 percent of people who die by suicide are male. However, females account for about 75 percent of all non-fatal suicide attempts. 

• Suicides are not more frequent around December holidays. In fact, suicide rates tend to be highest in the spring months, peaking in April, and are below average during the winter months, with the lowest rate in December.

It's not hard to find things to be grateful about this Thanksgiving.  Grateful to be alive, grateful for my caring family, husband and for all the friends who have endured the peaks and valleys and continue to learn about my illness.  I may not always call, write, text back in a timely manner, but...I'm grateful for you more than you know.  

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.