There are good days and then the bad days

Energy energy where did you go? I had you. We were reunited. My arteries hummed with effervescence. Stuff got planned. Smiles crept out. The smiling girl in my wedding photos was back.

Bam!

God I missed her. Pre-depression me. She was awesome. I almost forgot what she felt like. Lots of days now I can feel her coming back. Filling me out. Blooming inside me. My own Spring. Buds pushing through. Come on! Come quickly!

I feel impatient to get better. Now that I am out of the fug, the worst of it is over, I can look back on being depressed rather than be in it. This of course is most most awesome. Like realising something precious you thought you’d lost was actually just hidden in the back of your wardrobe.

I do of course still have bad days. Tired sinking feeling days. Yesterday was one such day. I was tired. Bone tired. Dog tired. It had been coming on for a few days. Being back at work full time is hard. I am determined to make it work but it is of course tough after being on sick leave for a whole month. I start my new job in a few weeks and and I desperate to be better by then. Is this unrealistic? Possible. Am I putting too much pressure on myself- yes maybe.

Are we going down that road again? We could be. It doesn’t have to be a problem though, does it? I have learned lessons and I can apply them:

1. Acknowledging that I get stressed and that is ok.

2. Accepting that I am prone to getting depressed when overwhelmed or underwhelmed and this leads to not looking after myself.

3. Preparing myself and protecting myself is important- eating properly, getting rest and breaks and trying to have some kind of work life balance.

And being compassionate in my views of myself. Says my therapist.

This is what I need to do to look after myself.

Let’s see how it goes…..

 

 

 

“Disclosing” mental illness

There’s something abut the word depression  that I dislike. Many things, if I’m honest. It’s not the kind of thing you want attached to you. You don’t aspire to it. It ain’t glamorous. 

Even when I was a goth in my teenage years I never went in for melancholy.

Depression, once it gets tagged onto you, applied to you as a label, a diagnosis, it sticks. I wish to see it as a temporary thing- like flu, or gastroenteritis. Unfortunate but you’ll get over it. But it’s not, is it? It’s sort of hanging on; going to hang on to you, like a bit of extra skin you grew. Scaly.

I fought hard against that label. My GP and later on psychiatrist, patted it gently on me. I scratched it off. Depressed?! Me? Ain’t nobody got time for that! It took me two months of therapy to accept that yes I am depressed, and no that doesn’t mean I am a failure, incapable of continuing on the achievement merrygoround of life.

Six months on and I can accept being depressed. I believe it. Its there, a part of me. I am taking my medication with my coffee in the morning and it’s just a routine now. To start with just taking the tablets down from the cupboard filled me with shame. I hid them away any time we had a visitor.

The tablets are still hidden, but in a nice tea caddy. They are my secret, private.

My depression remains my secret. I might allude to it, in very couched terms. I am not comfortable with anyone but my husband and my sister knowing. 

Telling others? Nope. Less complicated that way. Don’t want to talk about. Can’t be bothered getting into it, explaining it, justifying it.

Telling people at work. NO FRICKING WAY. In healthcare we call this “disclosing”. Your employer should not, can not discriminate against you for having mental illness. They shouldn’t as they won’t, by law, get away with it (assuming the mentally ill person has the wherewithal  energy or motivation to call them on it).

But they might discriminate against you indirectly, unconsciously. Their view of you may differ. Projects may not come your way “don’t want to put extra stress on you”. Even if they don’t see you differently you might not be able to shake the feeling that they do.

Give other people some credit I hear you say- don’t assume that people will discriminate against you or think less of you if you disclose your mental illness. They might not. You wouldn’t, would you, if one of your staff disclosed to you?

I don’t even really know the answer to that. 6 months ago I couldn’t accept a diagnosis of depression because I saw it as a sign of weakness, failure, pathetic. And I’m a highly ethical, moral and humanistic person. 

My view on depression has changed. I have accepted it within myself. Is the next step feeling confident to disclose it to others?

And how hard must it be for people with more serious mental illness? You need to be a real tough cookie to wear that badge with confidence and yet complex mental illness saps your confidence and self efficacy to levels lower than most of us can even imagine.

I feel strongly about this. I wish there was something I could do towards this. I think it’s amazing, and shows such promise for the future when high profile celebrities like Stephen Fry, and politicians speak out publicly about their mental illness. Bravo.

As easy as ABC…or is it?

                                    It’s as easy as ABC..D.

Apparently so. It’s a CBT thing (cognitive behavioural therapy)- a method to change your thinking style, your approach, your default setting way of looking and thinking about things. And thoughts lead to feelings, so probably worth a looking at.

A- Activating event

B- Beliefs

C- Consequences

D- Disputation

Taking an example: I used the ABC…D method as advised by my therapist- just to try it out.

A: Last Sunday night it was the night before my first day back at work after being off for a month of sick leave.

B: Beliefs- these are the thoughts I had about it: What would I say to people to explain where I had been? Would anyone ask me? How would I feel about that? What about the pressure of being back at work and in that environment? What about my staff (I lead a team) and how they have been coping on their own without me?

I hadn’t heard anything from any of my colleagues while I had been away so had no idea how the land would lie.

It would be tough seeing my boss and discussing my phased return to work.

C: how did these beliefs make me feel?

Anxious

Unsure

Worried

Low in confidence

Scared of relapse

Pissed off!

D: disputation. So I explored these thoughts and challenged them- was anyone really going to ask me where I had been or push me for details? No. Unlikely. Most people I work with are lovely sensitive people and would get that I wouldn’t want to talk about it. Ok.

What was the worst my boss could do? (well now she has been known to take tissues to meetings because she knows in advance that she will make people cry so it could be bad).

I made myself try a different way of looking at it:

The first few minutes will be awkward but everyone else will get that too and do their best to make it smoother.

Yes I was off work unexpectedly for a month but I was unwell and it was the right thing to do. If one of my staff or colleagues was in teh same situation I would not criticise them for taking sick leave. There is no shame in having mental health problems and taking time off work does not mean that I have failed, or am a weakling or an unreliable person. I have worked my ass off in this job for the last two years and never taken more than a day off. People will be glad to see me back and pleased that I am getting better, and nobody will push me to disclose what is wrong with me.

So as I lay in bed on Sunday night I tossed and turned and fretted about the As, Bs, Cs and the Ds. I really wanted the Ds to come true.

Had a pretty shitty sleep (more bout the night sweats later!).

Monday went ok. Everyone was fine. It was cool.

I avoided my boss until Friday and she gave me a bollicking for not seeing her Monday but in grand scheme of things could have been worse.

So ABCD worked out. Must try again and use as default way to think.

Important point though- ABCD works ok if your frame of mind or mood is in a good phase. If I had tried this a couple weeks ago the D would not have broken through the depression fugg or the cycle of negative thinking. So what will really be a test of this new technique would be one of those times. Sure it’s possibly just around the corner. Bring it on!

Returning to work….eeeek

Returning to work on a “phased return to work” tomorrow.

Trying to stay neutral about this. Yes it will make me feel anxious and yes some moments will be tough but it will be ok. People will perhaps ask where I have been but mainly people will probably just say hi. But it could be awkward.

The first hour will be tough but then it will be fine. I am looking forward to going back to a routine- like getting up at 645 and heading out to work like a normal person.

I have been off for a month so it will feel rusty.

Will I eat?

Who knows- it depends how it goes I suppose….

Coping skills

When initially diagnosed as “severely depressed” I really struggled with the diagnosis. I didn’t have time to be depressed! I was busy! I was super strong, made of steel like Sara Lund (The Killing fans of you will get that). 

Over the months I have gradually accepted that I am depressed. And more recently that this is largely related to my thinking patterns, perfectionist tendencies, harsh view of myself and goal oriented priorities (why would I spend time doing something just because I enjoy it, duh?).

So it’s all my fault. I made this happen to myself. And only I can fix it (oh look it’s that harsh criticism of self again).

Let’s look at this a different way: (a more compassionate way)

– I was brought up to be an achiever- work hard, play later, top of class, the A team, best score. 

– I want to be the best, in charge, the leader, the boss. I want to show them all.

– I don’t find it easy to relax (see above)

– I find it hard to admit when I am struggling (see above)

So. All some of these beliefs have positive outcomes:

I have a successful career (although not so successful right now as I am on sick leave, lying in bed with the cats writing a blog while everyone else is at work), I am an attractive, slim weight and my bookshelves are all in order.

But the negatives are: yes, you’ve guessed it, I am vulnerable to depression and anxiety.

Which would be ok if I have appropriate or positive strategies to cope with that- like yoga, or talking to people, or meditation or some such. Or even just recognising it and allowing myself it.

Currently my strategies involve:

Keeping it to myself (Sara Lund style) 

Ignoring it

Disordered eating (overeating and binging or restricting food in a sad way to do something, something to respond to how I’m feeling)

Pulling away from social interaction as the inner monologue gets louder and the washing machine of thoughts chug on, hour after hour.

So I need to work on those….

Depression actually rocks- give that black dog a belly-rub!

Thrillingly, depression doesn’t have to be a sign of weakness- it’s how you deal with it that counts. My therapist told me that Winston Churchill for example, Abraham Lincoln etc suffered depression- yet also managed to achieve great things.

Warming to this theme. I CAN be Chief Exec after all!

Check this out http://www.guardian.co.uk/society/2008/feb/24/mentalhealth.health

Love this:

Essentially, depression can give us new and quite radical insights – it can give us a way of responding effectively to challenges we have in life. In its severe form it is terrible and life-threatening, but for many it is a short-term painful episode that can take you out of a stressful situation for a while. It can help people to find a new way of coping with events or your situation – and give you a new perspective, as well as making you more realistic about your aims.’

 

“We’re not there yet, but we’re getting there”

Since my diagnosis of “depression etc” as I like to call it, 7 months ago, I have gone through a mixture of responses to the D word. It’s like a really unwelcome relative that moves in, uninvited and elbows her way in beside you on the couch. “Are you gonna eat that?” she might say, ask she filches the food off your plate.

I have gone through some kind of grief cycle with this-

Denial- “I can’t be depressed, depression is for losers who can’t cope, I’m too busy for this shit”. Why would I be depressed? Nobody died! I just got married, which was awesome, I just bought a great place, I am healthy, I have great friends, my job is fine. What have I got to be depressed about??

Then fear. It all went a bit stark and very lonely. Arctic landscape.

Anger (still here I’m afraid): this depression is a bastard. How dare it come along and eat up my confidence and personality. How dare it force me to take time off work and want to cut my hair off like Anne Hathaway’s. These stupid pills I have to take make me dizzy and crappy. 

Shame: shame, I’m afraid has been a constant. I am ashamed to be depressed. I am ashamed to have an eating disorder. But the ED is almost less of a deal for me. Maybe because EDs are everywhere, and probably most women I know have food issues, and (sorry to be honest here, you won’t like this) there is a little bit of pride attached to being anorexic- restricting your food intake is hard. Getting through that and still carrying on with your day is a challenge. There is a sense of being a toughie. Lots of anorexics will talk about the feeling of clean-ness, lightness, almost a rush (yes could be the low blood sugar).

But the depression-shame is different. Understand this: I strive on striving, I like to be good, the best at things. I am a good girl. Parents love me. My house is tidy. My work diary is covered with ticks. I get stuff done. I am on a mission. Depression doesn’t fit in there. Well, duh, it obviously does but you know what I mean.

I made an interesting choice about my treatment. There is a world class mental health facility basically right beside where I work. If I went there I would have access to the best professionals and a shorter waiting list, but I would have to run the risk of people see me go in, bump into me in the corridor. What if I needed to run out crying and ran into someone from work!

But I went for it. I didn’t want to wait. I took the chance. Now, I haven’t ever bumped into someone from work but seriously, the stress of trying to walk in there every week for my appointment borders on the ridiculous. Actually I may dedicate a separate blog to it.

Anyhoo- I have only told TWO people that I have depression- my husband, and eventually my sister. No one else. Not a word.

Acceptance: this is where I want to get to. Accepting that this depression, or break down or whatever, is here to help me- to adjust my approach to life and soften my perspective, to allow myself to not be “super” at all times. To give in. For that to be ok.

As the Irish government transport tagline says:

“We’re not there yet, but we’re getting there” choo choo

 

Spirals

Thursday- Sunday were awesome days- bouncy, smiley, excited, future facing. Loved it. When I feel like that I want to grasp onto it, hold it in my hands, put it in a back pocket, keep it. Don’t go away feeling, stay with me. Please. This is how good it can be. It’s like a tease.

It dissipated on Monday. Made mistake of checking my work emails. Bump back down to earth. I guess work has a bigger impact on my mood than I would like to let on. And oh how quickly it can go. Spiralling down down. Crying in London Bridge station On the escalator. Thank God for the anonyminity of London. You can get away with any kind of oddball behaviour and people will politely study their Metro and re-edit play lists. 

The spiral brought me, as it always does, to “I don’t want to be here any more, everything is too hard, the future is just more of the same hard stuff, how do I get out of this”. Grim stuff. Grim and exhausting- those thoughts bullying their way around my mind like dust clouds. Showering a caking of dust over everything like a horrible burst hoover bag.  

I work my way out. I always do. I’m too bloody nice to do anything stupid. I could, and I know how. I have researched it. The internet is dazzling in it’s capacity for information and vast amounts of people being as weird as you. 

I’m too nice as I can see the consequences. The hurt, the ruined lives it would cause. I can feel the consequences and that makes me sadder. Why can’t I value my life as much as my loved ones do. How hurt and upset they would be if they even knew.

My therapist says it’s common for people who are depressed to have thought like this. What a bastard depression is.