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Reality: EVERYDAYISMAY

It is May 1st. To repeat, it is May 1st. Today begins a special month that highlights the struggle, stigma, information, stories and so much more regarding mental illness. It is a month full of education, personal journeys, pain and healing. It is one month. It lasts 31 days. It lasts for 744 hours. It is a special month and provides meaning not only for those who suffer from mental illness but for the family members and friends, co-workers and basically, society. It highlights the victories in science in creating new treatment models and it offers a space for personal stories of struggle, pain and health. It isan important month and I deeply believe in it.

I want to go deeper though. Those 31 days are just that, 31 days. In my life, 31 days can feel like a never-ending eternity or it can pass so quickly, I am in shock when the new month begins. When I was ill, my pain was never-ending just as was the time.

My struggle during Mental Health Awareness Month is that while I strongly believe in the extra social media posts, educational opportunities, web series and individual openness of one’s experience, I also struggle with the fact that this also occurs outside of May. One difference may be that people are more aware that there will be more buzz about mental illness during May, but the truth is, the buzz is everywhere all the time now. I think this is such an important and valid point to make. The current push for pediatricians to follow guidelines to screen kids for depression is an everyday affair at doctor’s offices, the woman who attends therapy twice per week to work on her anxiety and the man receiving ketamine infusions to alleviate his severe depression are all dealing with issues that abound not only daily but sometimes in an hour to hour basis.

One’s mental health is a constant. Anyone who has a mental illness deals with a minute by minute existence that does not revolve around a calendar. Mental illness does not begin or end just because it is May 1stand Mental Health Awareness Month has begun; it only continues.

My intention here is to highlight an important 744 hours during the year where there are many resources that are utilized to provide a voice to those with mental illness who may not have the ability to use their own. It is a month full of fundraisers for important organizations to continue their work to de-stigmatize mental illness and lobby political players to increase parity and availability of services. My family and I will participate in my local NAMI walk in a couple of weeks and we are proud to do so.

While I will blog, post pictures and quotes on social media during these 31 days, there is no substantial change to what I post in any given month. This is the point. I wish we did not need a special month to highlight the realities, struggles, political policies, treatment options, etc. when we should be doing this every month of the year.

My everyday life is all about my mental health. I start my days taking medications for my depression and anxiety. I have thoughts in response to these illnesses throughout my day. I may need to take Ativan if my anxiety reaches its peak which could be in reaction to almost anything happening. I see my therapist three days per week where I continuously deal with and work on me. I may put myself down for not making a connection to a customer at work and spin this in my head for hours. I may need to take an Ativan in the evening when my irritability soars. I may need to take deep breaths to calm my anxiety. I end each day taking my evening medications. This is every single day of my life. It is not merely in a bubble of time in the month of May. It is my always.

So, yes, let’s promote this very important month and do everything we need to do to affect others’ disinterest, misunderstandings and/or fears of mental illness, but, at the same time, let’s also ensure that people recognize that this is not merely a 31 day or 744-hour mission. This is life. This is certainly my life. This is not only about May for many of us; this is about our everyday existence. #EVERYDAYISMAY

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Hospitalization: One Week

A week ago today I went for my early morning ketamine treatment at the hospital and never left. The plan was set in motion last Wednesday. I needed to be hospitalized and I needed to be safe. I was not thrilled with the idea but was the one who made the call to push things forward.

I met with the doctor who always follows me when I am inpatient and we came to an agreement: I would have 3 ECT treatments before beginning my new medication which I could not begin until today. I had the ECT treatments which brought back a level of anxiety in me I would not wish on anyone. They seemed to help my mood though so I am holding on to that positive. The first ECT was difficult though as ketamine was used as the actual anesthetic which I had never had before. I had difficulty walking after the treatment and even required 2 counselors to help me in the bathroom which was one of the most humiliating moments of my life. I was shaky all day but was told that they would go back to using the anesthetic they used in the past for future treatments.

I went to groups, talked with other patients, counselors and doctors and took care of myself. It was a difficult 7 days. I was away from my daughter, whose only understanding of me being away was that I went somewhere to get new medicine for my depression. I missed her more and more as each day went by. My husband visited as did my parents.

Evenings were the most difficult for me. I felt desperately alone and ached to hold my daughter. I worried about the burden I had become to those I love. I perseverated about these things over and over again.

I knew I needed to be in the hospital and did not waste time going over that. I needed to be in a safe place with little responsibility.

I am home now and very happy to be here. I feel exhausted and a bit overwhelmed. I still need to take things slowly and moment by moment. No extra pressure needed here!

I began my new medication this morning which comes in patch form (MAOI). I pray for positive results. I only agreed to a few ECT treatments to lift me up enough out of my misery in order to hold me until this new medication kicks in. I am terrified of doing more because of my memory issues and because of the great anxiety that is conjured up prior to each treatment. Again, I am focusing on moments at a time right now while I transition back to home life.

I will say it again: depression is a mean and horrible illness and I will continue to fight it with everything I have. I am lucky to have my treatment team in place and my family and friends are right by my side. It will take me some time to thoroughly process the past 7 days and I know I need to give myself that time and opportunity. Honestly, it’s a lot. A lot transpired during the past 7 days and while some was inspiring, some was downright terrifying and brought me to a place of pure despair and loneliness.

If you see me, if you want to contact me, just be positive and be supportive. I honestly cannot handle anything more or less right now. Just be real.

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Ketamine Infusion #3

Yesterday I had several hours where I was more alert, involved and could formulate and explain my thoughts. My therapist told me I seemed a bit more together. By the early evening though I began to feel irritable and sad. I knew those hours when I felt clearer were a good sign and my doctors confirmed that this morning before they began my infusion.

I was nervous before they started and once it began that heaviness came over me and I felt as if I were watching everything from outside of myself. I began to cry as I looked at the clock and saw it was the time when I would wait with my daughter for the school bus. I did not see her this morning as I had to be at the hospital very early. I cried more when I thought of her and missed her so much. I focused on her face and what it feels like when I kiss her cheeks, her soft, perfect skin. I focused on her smile. I cried harder. The nurse asked if I was okay and I told her I was but I was aware that I felt scared and not okay. The doctor reassured me.

I then thought of how I am such a burden on my husband, daughter, family and friends. I felt trapped in the bed in the room as if this is my life now and my existence consists of being outside of myself. I cried more.

I looked around and all I wanted was comfort and while the doctors and nurses provided it to me, it wasn’t enough. I wanted and needed more. I could not feel it. I started to imagine my therapist coming toward me and reassuring me. It felt slightly real although I was not hallucinating. I think I was trying to feel a connection to someone or something. I then cried more, feeling so unsatisfied.

The infusion ended and I was glad as I regained myself. It really is such an odd experience and while it is not terrible, it is certainly not enjoyable. Some do enjoy it, some sob throughout, it depends on the person. I do think it is beginning to help me though and that is all that really matters. I have a life, a beautiful life that I want to live in from inside of myself, not outside looking in.

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