Spring is Here...Ice Storm turns into Tornados!

There isn't much to say. Over the last few weeks things have not been the best. I got sick two weeks ago and ended up having a huge downward shift in my mood. Even though there were some tough days things were getting better overall in many areas. 

Earlier in the week after a therapy appt the tornado began to get stronger. The emotional path of destruction has been pretty intense. Just when I think it can't get stronger it does.  Leaving more and more debris. Doing more damage. 

Not sure how I will make it thru the weekend. Let alone the day. Feeling more and more isolated as the storm continues to rage. 

Ice-Snow Storm

My thoughts and mood continue to plummet downward. Earlier in the week the scenario of riding a storm out till it passes was given to me as an analogy of getting to the end if this rough patch. 

If there is an ice or wind storm there isn't much you can do but stay inside and hold down the fort until the storm passes. It will pass and the weather will get better. 

It has been a hell of an ice and snow storm this week. There have been a few shifts in the weather and I've been able to see a very small amount if sunlight. Within a few hours it comes raging back, stronger than before. More damage is done as the storm continues roar.

I attempted to get out and do something today. We took a road trip to check out something I needed pictures for. On way home I decided that I would go to the TMS group therapy. Since I missed last week and I'm struggling my husband and I both felt it was good idea to go. 

I wish I would have had the balls to get up and leave within first few minutes. Total of three of us and one was a new gal. It didn't go well. I don't know if I will go back for awhile. 

It is going on day 5 and I'm tired. Extremely tired. The swirling in my head is non freeking stop regardless of somewhat I've done to alleviate some of the stress of the storm. 

Monday Musings...When Depression Strikes

For every individual, depression is a very personal situation.  Each person, each experience is unique in its own way.  Today, for me, it is a dark shadow hanging over my head and everything I do.  It has followed me from home to my therapy appointment and back home.  It doesn't matter how much I love my family, the glitch in my brain chemistry has me feeling very alone, inadequate, worthless, and in a downright very dark space.

These dips are common.  They wax and wane. Some days are brought on by circumstances.  Other days they are part of the how things roll.  Sometimes it is a mixture of both.  There are days that it takes me by surprise and others times it is terrifying because I know what is next.

Taking medications isn't for me.  Most have come with pretty significant side effects.  Life altering, life threatening, doing the opposite of what they were intended to side effects.  None have truly helped.

It isn't that I don't have very good tools and don't know how to pull myself out of the dark hole that I am in.
I do.  I've been here before.  Most days I'm pretty successful at using the tools to keep my head above water.  Today those tools are garbage.  Just like someone who has high blood pressure, diabetes, or high cholesterol tries to keep their numbers w/in range to remain healthy, I have and do try very hard to stay above water.

Most of the time I am effective.  Sometimes, like today, it gets away from me. I've used the tools and done what I know has (and usually helps).  I've reminded myself over and over something that my current therapist has said.  None of it has helped. And with each attempt to pull my shit together. I fall deeper and deeper. The one thing I know to do is to shut down.  Push everyone around me away and create a bubble in order to protect myself from further pain.

One of the things I have learned over and over is that silence magnifies the state that I'm in.  A sure way to add fuel to the fire is isolate myself from those around me and it is only a matter of time before the fire is burning to bright and I can't hide it any longer.  Yet, pulling out of the silence is sometimes to much.

I'm sharing this not because I want or need sympathy or pity from you.  I want whomever may be reading this to know that perfectly normal people, strong people, the father sitting next to you in church, the bus driver who took you to work this morning, the clergyman sitting in front of his congregation....each of them sometimes have a condition that can get out of control.

I am not an oddball by any stretch of the imagination when it comes to sharing my own struggles.  Millions of individuals suffer from one or more mental disorders. Far to many go undiagnosed because of the stigma that is associated with mental illness.

If your best friend had a brain tumor, you wouldn't tell her to try harder.   You wouldn't tell her that if she did XYZ than she would for sure feel better.  You probably wouldn't drop off the face of the earth because it was to much to handle and she was full of drama.

Last summer, when I went through TMS therapy, I went alone.  Every.single.day.for.several.weeks.  My husband did not go with me.  My local friends and family did not go with me.  Yet, for someone who has to have chemotherapy, you may take a meal, offer to clean their house, or offer to help in some other manner. I felt those around me were expecting this miracle and I would be much better.  And when I wasn't much better, I walked away feeling like I failed.  I still feel like I've failed.  My father has cancer.  If the treatment regimen he is enduring doesn't work he is not the one that failed.  We as a society will not look at him and think he failed and didn't do everything he could have done.

There are plenty blogs and articles wrote on 'mental illness vs physical illness' and how family and friends treat it so different.  I've found this to be extremely true in my own life.

I write this in hopes that somehow, someone, will find a way to reach out if you sense someone close to you is struggling with mental illness.  Speak from your heart.  Speak honestly.  Speak without harsh judgement. You wouldn't speak harsh to someone with a brain tumor.  Don't do it to someone who is struggling on any level.

This illness.  This stigma.  It is debilitating.  It is overwhelmingly lonely. It can be deadly.

5 Weeks Later....

Today marks 5 weeks since I had a revision shoulder surgery.  Going into the surgery there was a ton of anxiety and uncertain thoughts of "am I doing the right thing...?"  And with out of a shadow of a doubt I know I did. By all means the surgery has been a success.  I've received much better medical care.  And have had very little contact post op w/my surgeon.  I've had no reason for that contact.  That's a good thing.

The constant pain I had in 2 different spots of my shoulder went away immediately after my surgery.  I've had 1-2 days in the last 4 weeks where that pain has returned.  Otherwise, it has been nothing.

Next week I will call my surgeon and let him know that my right shoulder isn't any better than it was preop.  And as long as I don't "use it".  As in "don't do any overhead work"...it is okay.  It is hard to say regarding lifting because I've been pretty limited with what I 'should' be doing.

The plan of action is I will have another injection under xray and follow up on the right at my next post op appointment.  And at that time he would decide what to do.

I'm still looking at 3-5 months before returning back to work.  If my surgeon chooses to operate on my right shoulder than a minimum of 4 months after that surgery is done.  I've got mixed feelings about having it done.
Time will tell....

February Starts of with a Bang.....

Ready for January to leave February started off with a bang. 

For ever and a day, I've dealt with a work comp shoulder injury. They have bullied and harassed and done things that were unethical since day one.

So when I was denied a week before my surgery, even though it was a devastating blow, it wasn't something that surprised me. The surprise came with the blatant errors all over the Third Party Medical examiners report. A dr who had never seen me. It was somewhat humorous to read the blatant errors. 

We met with an attorney a week ago. He has let them know he has been retained and will be representing me. And that this claim constitutes a bad faith claim on top of a bunch if other crap. 

Surgery was February 10.  By all accounts went well. As I type this i LAYING in BED!!!!!  Something I didn't do for 4-6 weeks previously. I wasn't very moble. And definitely didn't lay in bed. For most part I am able to dress myself. Been able to cut back on pain meds to every 6-12 hours. 

The weekend proved to be rough. Should have probably went to ER on Thursday evening. However held off. I was doing a little better on Friday am. My husband called my PCP office. When they called back they sent me straight to ER. Concern was I had a bowel obstruction. After CT scan ruled that out I was sent home. 

Few hours after coming home I woke up with 'new' symptoms on Saturday. Sunday morning the on-call staff informed my husband based on symptoms I should go back to the ER. Pissy and mad as ever I agreed. Several hours later left with no answers. And the answer I did get was on my own. 

It isn't confirmed. However, my gut feeling (literally and figuratively) says that something I have been given med wise contained gluten. The reactions I get with gluten vary. And GI upset is very specific. And usually short lived. However, given the amount of medication I have had and the different brands/prescriptions it is likely the culprit. 

Tomorrow morning my husband will have surgery. I hope and pray it will be minor and a quick in/out and back to everyday activities within a day or so. He won't know until after his surgery is over. 

Today has been better for most part. However, the events of last week or two have caught up with me...my mood...and all that other crap.  Trying hard to not let it take over. It is much easier said than done. 

No Title Needed...

This picture says it all. There is no title needed. No explanation. Nothing. It says it all in one sentence. 

Times are rough all over. We all wade in and out of crap. Some piled higher than others. 

Time and time again I've seen the depths of friendships come and go. And some be gone forever.  Some hanging on by a thread. 

Over the last 8 years my ability to trust in true friendships has become less and less. I know we all have seasons in our lives that change. And with that the change in friendships wax and wane. 

Today I found myself in a spiral of trying to make sense of it all. Struggling with the fight or flight mantra. Knowing and believing vs push and run/fight or flight. 

For today...I am trying like hell to not push the one person who hasn't turned a blind eye. Who when things get tough and they are extremely tough right now...continues to not give up and not let me push her away.

Goodbye January

I've had enough of January for one year. I've never in 39 yrs wished a month to leave and be done with. Today...I am!

Enough is enough. 

January 1 was our 20th wedding anniversary. It also started new beginnings/relationships with therapist and doctors bc of an insurance change. It has been nearly 16 yrs since we had anything other than our previous insurance. 

As the last few weeks have unfoiled and we met our new doctors. We have learned things that the precious medical team overlooked. Serious things. Things that could potentially be life altering. As a result my husband will be having a repeat TURP surgery and surgery to remove 2 large kidney stones. Some of the largest stones this new urologist has ever seen. And he stated yesterday they have likely been there for sometime. They need to be removed ASAP bc they are closer to the opening to his ureuter than safely they should be. 

I've met and seen my new therapist a few times. From this side I think it will be a good match. My own 'issues' with trust are causing me more anxiety than is probably warranted. I met a new psychiatrist. And will most likely see her one more time for a follow up. I have an appt with a different psychiatrist in March. There were several things I didn't like abt this dr. And after much thought and prayer have decided to switch. Go out of my comfort zone and see a male psychiatrist. I don't like the idea. And an less than comfortable with it. However, at the moment I think this is what is needed. 

February will bring with it a repeat/revision shoulder surgery. And my husband will be having a repeat/revision TURP and will have kidney stones roved at the same time. 

I made the decision to not attend the Orlando BeTA retreat this year. And it is looking like that decision was for the better on many aspects. I'm not in a place or interested at this point in meeting new people. However, will miss the friendships and connections I've made in the past. This isn't my year and I'm at peace with knowing I made the right choice. 

Overall not much has changed and I'm not in that good of a space. Somedays I just want to tell life to 'suck it'. And quite honestly...I have!!

Round 2...Shoulder surgery

I've been hopeful a second shoulder surgery could be averted.  Even as I spoke to my new orthopedic surgeon on Friday, I was still hopeful.  Hopes and prayers were crushed.  There is no nerve damage.  Which was the only positive that came out of that conversation.

If I ever want to attempt returing to work and want an hope of not having constant pain in my shoulder than the only option left at this point is to do a revision.  Over the weekend the thoughts and anxiety of going through another surgery becaming higher and higher.  There is no way around it.

The surgeon told me his scheduler would call me yesterday.  She told me the exact surgery he was scheduling.  And it became even more real.  Round 2....

I made some calls today.  Setting up rehab to start a few days post op.  Sent a few different messages via email.  And called my surgeons office back.  i wanted to know more specically what my optio s were.  Is this absolutely mandatory?  The answer was simple and at the same time not very simple.  Nothing is mandatory.  It isn't life or death...so no not mandatory.  However, if I want to have quality of life without constant pain and limitations this is the option I have.  It will progressively get worse until after the things that need to be taken care of get taken care of and they are able to see what else is going on. 

 Suck.Suck.Suck.

I have tried like crazy to keep my head above water.  To hear the advice, love, and support of those around me.  To hear the positive and uplifting things.  Remaining hopeful isnt happening.  

I remember vividly how incredible horrible the first 3 weeks post op were.  The months of grueling therapy and here I am....18 months later getting ready for round 2!  SUCK!!!!

My support system has changed drastically.  The coworkers who have had similiar surgeries are back to work.  Without complications.  With little to no issues and it is clear their supportis limited.  They dont fully get 'why' I am still dealing with this.  I dont get it.  I cant expect them to.  I have a new therapist whom I have met once.  A new PCP who I meet tmw.  I have yet to decide on psychiatrist.  New physical therapist.  Everything....everyone....new.  I trust none of them.  

The slope is slippery.  Very slippery.  I have flucuated back and forth between feelings.  After getting surgery date yesterday I slid quickly.  This morning I had a small glimmer of hope and thus why I called my surgeons office. 

I left work early and drove aimlessly for abt ab hour before letting my husband know I was on my way home.  Sooo many things spinning.  

I have been here before....in a dark hole.  However, not feeling so incredible alone!  With everything feeling like it has been pulled out from underneath me. 

My Grandpa

It was a very cold Thursday in late December.

 One of my very best friends had come to stay with us. She is 2 yrs younger than I am. My Aunt J. 

I was 15. She was 13. My  brother was 7. Grandpa lived on our basement. 

My mom had left for the evening. To her weekly bowling league. 

My brother was asleep. J and I were laying in bed. Talking about boys and school. I missed her. When we moved to Wisconsin from Illinois there was a huge loss. We had lived next to my grandparents for years. And now we were 100 miles away. 

We both heard the crash at the same time. And then we heard a low mumble from my grandpa. 

When I was 5 my grandpa, my hero, had a stroke that left him paralyzed on his left side. I was his princess. He never called me anything but Princess. And it was ok. 

The crash was the inevitable...he had fallen.  J and I laid in bed trying to decide who would go first down the stairs to check on him. It wasn't her grandpa. We were afraid to find him naked in the bathroom. Her mom, my grandma, was my grandpas first wife. Even though he wasn't her grandpa she always called him Grandpa. 

We decided to go down stairs together. We would find out if he fell in the bathroom together. 

He wasn't in the bathroom. Instead he was monkeying with his fish tank and fell on the tank. Little did we know at that time he had a small heart attack.  J and I earned up the mess. We were able to save a few of his fish. He had broken the tank and we were able to get the glass taken care of before my mom came home. 

Mom stayed up with him all night. She was a nurse and was able to care for his wounds and get him comfortable. 

The next day we went to town to get KFC. It was his request. It was New Year's Eve Eve...Before we left my mom made certain he was comfortable and okay. 

When we came home there were fresh snow tracks going up our lane. 

My mom immediately panicked. She was mad. Very mad. He called an ambulance and didn't need one she thought. There was a message on our answering machine from her boss at the hospit she worked at. She needed to come right away. She got the 3 of us situated and left for the nearest hospital 30+ minutes away. 

My grandpas dying words were "Win (my mom) you have for to call My Princess. I have to tell her what channels to tape so C can watch his shows. I need to talk to her.'

  My mom insisted he rest and not talk. He needed to rest. Instead he became agitated and upset. My mom called the house to see if we were still up. 

She didn't share that he was going to die. Just said 'G your papa needs to talk to you. Keep it short. He needs to rest and save his energy to breathe..'

She handed him the phone.

  'Princess turn tv to channel 8. My fish food is on floor by my chair. And always remember how proud I am of you for choosing to be baptized. And for making a choice at 14 that most children wouldn't consider...'  There was silence. And he was choked up and crying. 'Princess...I love you.'  He handed my mom the phone. He closed his eyes and never woke up. His last breathe was around 11:45 pm on New Year's Eve. 

I never heard my grandpa call me princess again. He was my everything. He was the first man in my life who loved without hurting me. He was there everyday after school. I didn't know it then, but the hole left in my heart would be unbearable for years to come.

What happened after I returned to school was a blessing and heart wrenching all in one. 

More on that in next post....

Until then Happy New Year. 

I am off to see Sinbad in Chicago and celebrate my 20th anniversary. It was almost a year ago when I wasn't sure this day would come...

End of Chapter...

UPDATED to change the # of therapist...I was a 'few' short.  

This isn't the first time I have walked down this path in the last 15 yrs. I pray it is the last. And somehow, my gut says it isn't anywhere near the last.  However, it is by far the hardest.

  Changing therapist sucks.

There have been many twists and turns along the way. Just as many roadblocks. Each have taught me something about myself, my relationship with my husband or children, and life in general. I'm going to venture to say that along this journey I've taught her a few things, also. 

I know I've spent a great deal of time testing her. Somewhere deep inside I've needed to know she wouldn't leave. I had 7 individual therapist in the 6-7 years before I started seeing her. Two of those therapist I had relationship for 18 months or so.  Two couples therapist. The 15months prior to beginning therapy with J there were 4 separate hospitalizations in 9 months. This doesn't account for the time I didn't see anyone bc I was burnt out on therapist leaving or retiring. So the testing was really about setting boundaries, but also finding out if she would jump ship like the previous therapist. I needed to know that J would stick with me when things got rough. When my true self started to let down my guard. I needed to know that through all of this she would be able to show her own humanness within our relationship.

By staying consistent with her reactions, regardless of wht I brought to the table, a safe space was created without me being fully aware of it. This allowed me to slowly share and show things abt me/my personality that no one had ever seen. 

There have been many roadblocks, when I couldn't communicate, and in some instances she has helped me make the connections. Begin to see a bigger picture. 

The connections have not been easy. They have been downright brutal. I've left pissed. I've heard words I didn't want to hear. I've heard words that make me cringe. And words that hurt so deep even  writing  them here are tough. A truth I need to hear. Words such as abuse, shame, hurt, and the worst of all - trauma. I've lived for many years in denial that my 'story' whatever it was - was. OT trauma. A truth I would still rather avoid. A truth, that deep down in my heart of hearts, I try to deny and don't realize it really is a truth. 

In the safety of her office, I've began to face that truth. Albeit not so much with J directly, but in general, have been able face the truth. Speaking these truths out loud so I can hear them...so her ears hear them is extremely hard to do. This is the reason I have verbally spoken so little about these truths. It is hard..it is devastating...and crippling for me to hear. 

There is a little hope that the little girl inside will have a voice one day.  That one day I will be able to acknowledge it loud and clear. And will not be afraid of the crippling truth within. 

I'm struggling with finding hope as this chapter ends and a new one begins. 

I know as the ending of this chapter comes to a close it isn't the end of the book. I know tht J has helped me in ways I can't begin to express. Most of a creating a place that was safe and trustworthy. 

I am grateful that J provided a place to 'just be'. That was safe. For the gentle guidance she's given. I've had to work very hard to letting her in. And still have a rather thick wall. However, it had been chipped away. 

I'm a different person than I was 6 yrs ago.

As I start this journey over with someone new in a few days...the range of emotions are huge. I'm paralyzed with fear of the unknown. And having to built the trust back again. 

I guess I could end by saying the next chapter is a new journey. 

A journey of healing...

Of learning to trust again...

And of discovery...