Tag / happiness

by krubesch

Hearts Keep Drumming

Hearts Keep Drumming

Oh life
Is just a game
No one ever tells you how to play
See different people
Go different ways
Some of them will leave you but
Some of them will stay
Well our hearts keep drumming
And the years keep coming
Quicker than they’ve ever been
You’re sick of the same thing
But it’s quicker than changing
It’s too late to begin
Well everybody’s running
But you don’t know where
Time is running thin
Everybody’s looking for somebody to love
But we’re scared to let them in
And I say oh oh oh
Are there any survivors?
Am I here alone?
I say oh oh oh
Are there any survivors?
Am I here alone?
Am I on my own?
Am I on my own?
Oh love
It comes and goes
But no one never tells you how to learn to let go
Different people, they walk different roads
Some of them will hurt you but
Some of them won’t
Well the bridge is burning
And the wheel keeps turning
Quicker than it did before
Your heart screams “yes”
Your head says “no”
And you’re never really sure
Well everybody’s running
But you don’t know why
Time is running short
Everybody’s looking for a place to hide
So there’s no one left at all
Survivors
By Passenger

It’s been almost a year since I have posted on my blog. It’s not that I have not written, I just did not feel like sharing what I wrote, as it has been a difficult year and I have felt guarded. Everything I wrote just seemed so dark and depressing. I judge myself a lot harsher than I would anyone else and feel like what I have written is utter crap. This past year has felt like being on the biggest and craziest roller coaster at six flags. Not only have I had some of my lowest moments, I have also had some really good experiences, in which I have pushed myself out of my comfort zone. These experiences seem to have changed me in substantial ways and pushed me to grow in ways I don’t think I otherwise would have.

In February after years of hearing about it, I took part in Ladies Rock Camp. Thanks to my friend, Emily (!) and all my awesome friends who donated towards my tuition. This is basically a 3 day music camp for adults that includes music lessons, we are split into bands, and then tasked to write an original song and then perform it at a venue. I was so excited and nervous before participating and had a lot of self doubt about taking part in this. I am so glad I did it! I played the drums (my first choice of the 3 instruments I put on my paperwork) at Ladies Rock Camp and this was the first time I had seriously played since I was 17 years old. I had a bad experience with a band director in high school and was picked on for being one of the only girls (and good) who played the drums in middle school and thought that I would never play again. This experience was amazing and really boosted my self confidence. I feel like I was able to reconnect with this part of my 17 year old self and it felt really healing. It was nice to prove to myself that I could do something that felt really scary and out of my comfort zone and actually excel at it. I didn’t even get mad at myself when I goofed up during our performance (big deal for me!). This is something I try to hold on to when I am having difficult moments and I am slowly starting to add the drums back into my life as a fun activity. This was definitely one of the heights of the rollercoaster of the past year.

Part of the reason why I am writing about all of this now because not only do I need to sort out the thoughts in my head, but I think I need to reach out for help from my friends and family. Writing seems to be the only way in which I am able to articulate my thoughts and needs in an effective way.

I was diagnosed with stage 4 endometriosis after having surgery on 08/01/2018. The doctor who diagnosed me was the 7th doctor I had seen for the chronic pain I had been experiencing at that point for two years. Although that surgery relieved a lot of my pain, I started having chronic back pain again in October of 2018. Since then my pain has increased and is now affecting different parts of my body. Currently, and in the past 6 months, my pain levels radiate between 6 out of 10 to as bad as 10 out of 10 on the pain scale. My wife tells me I am not an effusive or demonstrative person (What?! who is surprised by that other than me?!) and that she has not been aware that I have been in that much pain since I don’t go into detail when I tell her I am hurting. To me, saying that, “I am hurting” means that I am in a lot of pain because I don’t usually complain. I think that I am conveying to people how I feel when apparently I am not getting my point across. That has been a big source of frustration in general for me, as I think I am communicating to people when I am actually not. I need to keep this in mind and try to be more descriptive with my words.

After almost 8 months of physical therapy ($$$ because hardly any pelvic floor therapists in Georgia are in network with insurance), an MRI, a back x-ray, appointments with my primary care physician, my surgeon and a rheumatologist, I still did not really have any answers about why I was continuing to have chronic back, hip, glute, thigh and heel pain. In early April, I became a little desperate about my increased pain and decided to get a 2nd or 8th (depending on how you look at it) opinion from a doctor in Chattanooga who was in network with my insurance and really seemed to know his stuff. When I called the earliest appointment he had available was 08/06/2019, so I went ahead and scheduled it.

On my birthday, 4/30/2019, the surgeon who originally diagnosed me, called me to let me know I had some concerning cysts and “fluffy” tissue that her radiologist noticed on the MRI I had in February (after Emory told me it was normal- the 2nd MRI they have misread). She let me know that she would need to do multiple procedures along with a biopsy as soon as possible to determine if that was causing my recurrence of pain and to rule “other things out.” Of course I immediately went into panic mode and consulted Dr. Google! Bad idea… My immediate concern became that I might have cancer. I continued to pretty much obsess about this until we finally got the results of my biopsy. Almost two months after that phone call and the procedures, I found out that I did not have cancer and that the “fluffy” tissue was likely due to the excess estrogen that is caused by endometriosis.  Not a definitive answer as to if this is causing my pain. My doctor seemed pretty unconcerned with my pain levels, especially since my test results all came back “normal.” I decided to keep that appointment with the other doctor in Chattanooga in hopes that he might have some insight.

I am really glad I kept the appointment with the surgeon in Chattanooga. He listened and asked questions in a way no other doctors had up until that point. He knew from looking at my previous surgery pictures that I still had endometriosis on my intestines and most likely in other areas in my abdominal area. He told Leah and I that I would need another surgery and explained that I would need to have my appendix removed because it can be a pelvic pain generator and excise any endometriosis that he finds when he goes in. He also highly recommended that I get a hysterectomy and he will leave it up to me as to whether I keep my ovaries or not. He did extensive blood work at that appointment, ordered a lumbar MRI (in hopes to see if he could tell what was causing my back pain, although he is pretty sure it is endometriosis). I left that appointment in tears- partly because the drive to Chattanooga felt amazing compared to Orlando (my other surgeon’s office is there) and really because, once again I know my body best and I am not crazy. He validated the fact that I knew and still know that there is something wrong with my body and my surgery was scheduled by the time I left his office. His office is so much more efficient than my previous surgeon. He answered all of my and Leah’s questions in detail and spent over an hour with us at my appointment.

I thought that waiting 4 months for my appointment with him would probably be the most difficult thing out of this process, well I was wrong. Our insurance changed in July of 2019 and I have been trying to get the MRI that my doctor ordered approved by our insurance company for two months at this point. My doctor’s office and I have spent hours on the phone with them, he did a peer to peer review (where your doctor tries to convince one of the insurance company’s doctors that you need whatever procedure they’re denying), and I wrote an appeal letter- including my eight months of physical therapy notes, my x-ray results, and a note from my therapist (basically saying that chronic pain and constant self-advocacy and battles with insurance is affecting my mental health). I am still in limbo as of today as to whether they will cover my MRI and my surgery date is 20 days away. I thought that having three months in between my appointment and my surgery date would give me plenty of time to get everything in order. As of today, I still don’t know if they are going to approve my surgery that is scheduled out of state in less than 3 weeks.

Everything came to a head last night and I had an epic meltdown. I started crying while I was cooking because we were out of avocado and that was supposed to go into the meal that I was cooking. I am on a crazy anti inflammatory/endometriosis/ interstitial cystitis diet to try to manage my pain and inflammations and it was the avocado that tipped me over the edge! All the feelings that I have been keeping at bay by remaining constantly busy, productive, researching and planning, all came rushing to the surface and finally I let myself stay with my feelings and allow them to move through me. I am so so tired. Being in constant pain and remaining a productive member of my household, job, and society in general is so draining. I am very careful as to how much we have scheduled outside of work because even a fun and easy dinner with friends is exhausting. I know that I have been isolating myself for this reason and also having a chronic illness that involves my lady parts is not necessarily the easiest thing to talk about, nor the most acceptable in our society. I am aware that I am not reaching out to people when I need to and I am going to work on this.

It’s very hard to try to process losing my uterus when I don’t even know if or when it is actually going to happen. It feels hopeless to have to fight with my insurance company when I am in so much pain and the dark thoughts I try to keep at bay come bubbling up to the surface. These suicidal thoughts make me feel riddled with shame along with the shame that comes with having endometriosis in the first place. Not to mention having to prove to doctors and insurance companies that there is something wrong with my body. This is something that needs to be discussed. 1 in 10 women have endometriosis and so many women have hysterectomies and don’t talk about it. I would love any input from those who have had one, as to what to expect, tips and anything else I might need to know.

I am scared about my surgery. I am scared that the surgery won’t help and that I will feel this way the rest of my life. I am scared of not knowing how long I will be out of work (it will depend on exactly what is done in surgery and we won’t know until it happens). I am terrified that we will have to go into debt or that I will have to delay this surgery even longer. I am scared that permanent damage is being done to my body while I am in this limbo. I worry about Leah having to take on most of the household responsibilities while I am recovering, and the toll her worry over me takes on her. I worry that I made the wrong decision in not having kids now that it is almost too late. I worry about possible complications from my upcoming surgery. I am so anxious about our insurance and whether we will have surprise bills IF they even approve my surgery.

 

Did you know?

  • Endometriosis is one of the top three causes of female infertility
  • An estimated 8.5-10 million women in the US and 200 million (that’s 200,000,000) worldwide are believed to be affected
  • Extremely painful menstruation, endometriosis’ most commonly known symptom, is the leading cause of missed work and school in young girls and women, according to one NIH study
  • Endometriosis commonly goes undiagnosed or misdiagnosed, with women experiencing about 6-10 years delay before being correctly diagnosed
  • Endometriosis is also frequently undiagnosed in teenage girls, due to persistent medical myths, like the false belief that pain with periods is normal or that teenagers rarely get endometriosis
    Taken from http://nezhat.org/endometriosis-treatment/endometriosis/
by krubesch

Black Eyed Susan

“It’s because people are so perishable. That’s the thing. Because for everyone you meet there is a last moment when your hand slips from theirs, and everything ripples outwards from that, the last firmness of a hand in yours that every moment after becomes a little less firm until you look down at your own hand and try to imagine just what it felt like before their hand slipped away. And you cannot. You cannot feel them.”
History of the Rain, Niall Williams
Susan Posted this quote in her blog titled, “Ah Well”
https://susanmdougherty.me/page/4/

I know that Susan would write this blog post much more eloquently than I am able to and I keep waiting for an alert to let me know that Susan has written about her death on her blog, but she can’t because she is gone. I know what it is like to lose a parent at a young age and it feels like death has surrounded me for a lot of my life, as I have lost many people I have cared about. The difference between Susan’s death and others is that she suddenly passed away while in Spain on vacation (while I was housesitting for her and taking care of her new dog). Most people in my life have died long and slow deaths from dementia and heart disease. I know how to deal with death when it happens slowly over time, but sudden death feels so very different.
There was not any time to prepare or to tell myself that this could be the last time I would see her. I find that I get a lot of closure from telling myself things like, “this is the last time we are going to have a sleepover” or “this could be the last hug I give her.”

It’s still hard to fathom that our evening marathons of Pitbulls and Parolees will never happen again and that I won’t really be going back to the house that felt like my 2nd home. I know that these things sound silly, but so many of these thoughts keep going through my mind. I found myself thinking that I was so happy we finished watching the entire series of Longmire not too long ago. This was a show we started watching with her husband, Patrick, (I was his caregiver for the last 1.5 years of his life) who had Lewy Body Dementia. In a way watching Longmire made us feel close to Patrick and remember the days we all spent together.

My heart feels so achy and burny everyday and I miss her terribly. There are so many moments throughout each day where I go to text her and then remember that I can’t. I had no idea how often we communicated until now. Not only was she my wife’s boss, my former boss, a former classmate, but also one of my closest and dearest friends. I had no idea when I started caregiving for Patrick, that we would become so close. It all still feels like a very bad nightmare.

Susan was the kind of person who put thought into everything she did. She would surprise me with gifts that I had saved on my Pinterest boards for Christmas or my birthday. Her cards were meaningful and beautifully written and she made me feel special. There are not many people that I allow through my walls into my heart and I realize now that is because I have been hurt very deeply in the past and it hurts so much when I do- and something like this happens. This is when I hear Susan’s voice in my head telling me, “it is better to have loved and been hurt than never to have loved at all.” And I know she is right, I just feel like I can’t stand how much it hurts right now. I have been hearing her voice lately (no one needs to worry!) in similar situations. It’s pretty comforting that I knew her well enough to know what she would be saying to me now.

Memories of her consume me in the strangest places. The other day I was in the grocery store and it was like everywhere I turned she was there. I knew her in such an intimate way from working in her home that I am quite familiar with what she ate and how some of these items changed with the seasons. I am reminded of her with the Boar’s Head honey turkey in the deli, the peanut butter and chocolate Cheerios in the cereal aisle, the tiny potato rolls that she used for sandwiches, the pumpkin english muffins that she would eat for breakfast with cinnamon butter in the fall, and Nutella that she would ALWAYS have in the pantry that she liked to spread over Nabisco nilla wafers when she wanted a sweet treat. I also am reminded of Patrick with the chili Fritos, egg malt balls at Easter, and the pudding we fed him at the end of his life.

I am also reminded of Susan on a daily basis, by our new dog, Casey Joy (named by Susan)- who was supposed to be Susan’s new dog when she got home from Spain. I had picked her up from Lifeline after she got spayed and was staying with her at Susan’s house until she was supposed to return home. Leah and I keep joking about how of course Susan would die and leave us with another dog. When Casey acts up, we look at the ceiling and tell Susan to make her dog behave! Having Casey is a nice reminder, especially when she is cuddly and gives me hugs. I know that Susan is watching, loving that Penny and Casey are starting to settle into each other and laughing when we yell at her to control her dog.

I find myself looking at pictures of us over and over and re-reading all the emails she ever sent me. I have screenshot so many Facebook posts and texts that she has sent me over the years because I don’t want to forget her kind words and feel this need to fill this heartbreak somehow. I have been wearing the jewelry she gave me everyday and I freaked out today when I realized my necklace had fallen off until I found it in my car. It’s like I am scrambling to find anything that will make the ache go away and make me feel closer to her.

Something that no one knew, including my wife Leah, was that Susan was the person listed on my safety plan with my therapist. What is a safety plan? It’s an agreement I have with my therapist in writing about what I should do is I start to have suicidal thoughts and want to hurt myself. Thankfully, I only had to call or talk to Susan about 4-5 times over the course of about 2.5 years. She was amazing and so helpful when I would get in this head space. She treated me with love instead of fear and seemed to know when I was struggling even before I said anything. She often told me that she would be so mad at me if I ever hurt myself and I took that to heart. It’s really painful to know that I no longer have her as my person and changing that paperwork breaks my heart. I will be forever grateful to her for showing me unconditional love and being there for me in ways that a lot of people are not able to.

I am afraid that over time I will start to forget her voice or what it was like to be around her. She was also the only person who really understood what it was like caring for Patrick and she often told me that I was the only person who truly knew the ins and outs of his disease because we were both in the thick of caring for him on such intimate levels. It hurts that out of what felt like a trio of friends, I am the only one left.
I know that Susan would not want her death to derail the progress I have made with my depression and I keep trying to remember that as I feel like I am swimming upstream through a fog. I am extremely grateful and thankful that I have had the opportunity for the Dougherty’s, Patrick, and Susan to be a part of my life even though I would have liked to be able to have spent more time with them both. A lot more time.

It’s not the weight you carry
but how you carry it-
books, bricks, grief –
it’s all in the way you embrace it, balance it, carry it,
when you cannot, and would not,
put it down.
Mary Oliver

by krubesch

Cocktail

“In response to the trauma itself, and in coping with the dread that persisted long afterward, these patients had learned to shut down the brain areas that transmit the visceral feelings and emotions that accompany and define terror. Yet in everyday life, those same brain areas are responsible for registering the entire range of emotions and sensations that form the foundation of our self-awareness, our sense of who we are. What we witnessed here was a tragic adaptation: In an effort to shut off terrifying sensations, they also deadened their capacity to feel fully alive.”

Bessel van der Kolk, The Body Keeps The Score, p.94

I kind of feel like I have lost myself. Like all this work in therapy on dismantling negative beliefs and delving into the parts of me that feel like a dark abyss make me feel like I don’t know who I am.  I guess if I’ve dissociated or hidden parts of myself from myself for years maybe I never knew who I really was.  I was always just a shell of myself- what others dictated of me.

My time these days consists of working, spending time with my wife, and going to various medical professional appointments.  There was a 2 week (10 days M-F) period when I had 11 appointments while clocking 68 hours at work.  And yet all of these appointments were necessary.  Two of these appointments were at the Treatment Resistant Department at Emory (http://www.psychiatry.emory.edu/programs/trd.html).  Because medication and talk therapy are not significantly improving (or fast enough) my depression symptoms, my psychiatrist referred me to the TRD team.  These two appointments were two and three hours long involving a psychiatrist, a psychologist, and several computerized assessments.   After my appointments the team concluded that TMS (Transcranial magnetic stimulation) and possibly switching up my medication cocktail (yet again) were the best course of treatment for my particular situation.  Right now I am waiting on hearing back from Emory to see what my insurance benefits will cover for TMS.  If everything works out I will be going to an hour long appointment five days a week for six weeks having a coil deliver a magnet pulse on the surface of my head. (http://news.emory.edu/stories/2016/06/hspub_epstein_tms_for_depression/campus.html)

I am hoping I am able to do this and that it might deliver some results.  I am not putting all my eggs in this basket and will continue to go to therapy twice a week as I have been.

In January we added a stimulant to my medication cocktail.  This addition has been somewhat helpful, but I can’t figure out if the benefits outweigh the side effects.  The medication decisions lately seem to revolve around whether I can tolerate certain side effects and nixing other medications which have side effects I have deemed deal breakers.  Right now deal breakers for me are weight gain and lethargy (I don’t need any more help feeling tired!). Vyvanse, the stimulant I am taking, has definitely helped me to cope better with everyday life. It’s less effort to get out of bed, I’ve been actually cooking dinner, and I can manage a dog walk 1-3 times a week. I have even been to the gym once to lift weights!  This is a huge difference from the previous 4-5 months.  Headaches, an even drier mouth, more shakiness, jitteriness, and a brain fog in the afternoon are what come with the benefits.   I can’t decide if the jitteriness is increased anxiety or just extra energy I am not used to having- maybe both.

Another fun thing that’s been becoming increasingly painful and ever present is pain in my lower abdomen/pelvic region.  I have been assessed by my pcp, my gyno and will be going to the urologist this coming Monday. So far all the diagnostic testing shows that I don’t have anything wrong with me.  The gyno thinks that if I am cleared by the urologist I might be having symptoms of endometriosis and she will put me on birth control (more pills yipee!).  I have noticed that the pain gets worse when I am more emotionally dysregulated which means it could have an emotional component.  After finishing The Body Keeps The Score, by Bessel van der Kolk I understand how trauma has contributed to my chronic pain issues.  I do want to get completely checked out first before we determine that this is mostly trauma related.  The TRD clinic did comprehensive bloodwork and urinalysis tests when I was there.  The tests  concluded that I have an abnormally high blood sedimentation rate and a high C-reactive Protein level.  These tests basically just mean that I am having body inflammation.  It does not determine, why, where, or how.

Along with the pelvic pain comes increasingly more vivid and painful flashbacks. They seem to trigger each other. That’s also fabulous. Van der Kolk states, “Trauma victims cannot recover until they become familiar with and befriend the sensations in their bodies….Noticing sensations for the first time can be quite distressing, and it may precipitate flashbacks in which people curl up or assume defensive postures. These are somatic reenactments of the undigested trauma and most likely represent the postures they assumed when the trauma occurred” (p.102, 103).  I was totally weirded out in therapy last week when I curled up like a child and hid my face from my therapist. This action was involuntary and I just found myself just going along with what my body wanted me to do.

I have had friends ask me if I think all of this is necessary and if drudging up the past is just making things worse.  I have wondered the same thing, but both my therapist and van der Kolk (among many other professionals) have said that “In order to regain control over yourself, you need to revisit the trauma: Sooner or later you need to confront what has happened to you…” (van der Kolk, p.206).  It’s like the saying, “the only way out is through.”  Going through this recovery/process is probably the hardest thing I have ever done, but I know that not dealing with the trauma for more than three decades has brought me harm and strife.

The Body Keeps the Score is probably the most life changing book I have read to date.  It’s crazy how I can relate and see myself in almost every chapter of van der Kolk’s book.  It has really helped me to understand why I cannot readily identify emotions or know what I am experiencing/ feeling- there is a name for that, it’s called Alexithymia!  I need facts and information in order to make sense of myself and seeing it in written form really brings it home.

If everything falls into place, I plan to write and keep a daily journal about the TMS treatment. The psychiatrist at the TRD clinic also recommended that I use the hour during TMS to do some sort of meditation or relaxation techniques to make double use of that time.

by krubesch

Adrenaline Junkie

IMG_6727

“If your mind is always moving
It’s hard to get your heart up off the ground
Yeah, your mind was always moving
But your thoughts never made a sound”

Lyrics from Say Anything

Tristan Prettyman

Writer(s): David Hodges
Copyright: Emi Blackwood Music Inc., 1206 Publishing

Recently I’ve come to the conclusion that I am an adrenaline junkie.  It dawned on me during my weekly DBT class that the “One Mindfully” skill is extremely difficult for me.  Marsha Linehan describes One Mindfully as:

-“DO ONE THING AT A TIME. When you are eating, eat. When you are walking, walk. When you are bathing, bathe. Focus your attention on the very moment you are in with the other person. Do each thing with all your attention.

-If other actions, or other thoughts, or strong feelings distract you, LET GO OF DISTRACTIONS and go back to what you are doing- again, and again, and again.

-CONCENTRATE YOUR MIND. If you are finding you are doing two things at once, stop and go back to one thing at a time.”

Linehan pg. 113

I’ve noticed lately that I am often doing more than one thing at a time.  It’s very rare for me to be in the moment and focusing only on the task at hand.  I’m listening to music and consumed in my thoughts when I’m driving, I play on my phone when I’m watching tv, I’m either listening to music or watching tv when I work out, and even when I’m trying to sleep I’m consumed by all the thoughts that I avoid during the daytime.  Apparently this phenomena of keeping myself busy and jumping from thing to thing means that I’m keeping myself hopped up on adrenaline.

I love extreme sports.  I do triathlons- it’s not enough for me to pick one thing, I have to do all three! I am a goalkeeper because I love the thrill of diving to catch that ball.  I have eight tattoos. I love tattoos- the noise, the sensation, and the picture I’m left with for the rest of my life on my body.  My love/addiction? with tattooing started when I was in high school.  I got my first tattoo when I was a high schooler (17 years old) on a band trip to Victoria Canada.  I was going through a particularly difficult time in my life and also had the urge to be a rebellious teenager, so why not get a tattoo on a band trip?!  My first taste into the tattoo world was delightful.  I got the tattoo on my butt, so it didn’t hurt that much but I also liked feeling that pain.  I was aware of how freeing it was to get that tattoo and how the pain was somewhat socially acceptable.  Up until that time I had not dabbled into the world of self-harm, but this feeling of adrenaline felt so much better than my anxiety and depression.  It was a welcome vacation from what was going on in my life.

That was 16 years ago.  Looking at my tattoos I only have two that I planned years in advance and was in a good head space.  That means that six of them were done when I wanted to feel that familiar pain and cover up parts of my body.  I like my right arm better than my left because its covered with a few of my favorite things: flowers, berries, and birds.  It’s almost like my armour and I feel more comfortable in my skin when it’s decorated.

It’s so funny how I feel like I am meeting parts of myself for the first time.  I had not realized that a lot of the things I do on sometimes a daily basis cause me to have an adrenaline rush.   I remember jumping off rocks into a watefall and going bridge jumping when I was in high school.  It reminded me that I was still alive.

I am going to share a bit more information about myself- I am a survivor of childhood sexual assault. I feel like it’s necessary to share this because apparently being an adrenaline junkie correlates strongly with PTSD, especially those who’ve had trauma in their childhood.  I’ve been reading different sources about trauma and I’m finding it fascinating.

mentalhealthdaily.com states that adrenaline addiction starts from:

1. “Traumatic event or high stress – War, life changing diagnosis (i.e. cancer), rape, hard drug withdrawal, anxiety disorders, etc. There are plenty of things that could trigger the start of an adrenaline addiction – even a bunch of less severe, minor stressors.

2. Body sensitized to adrenaline – After a good 6 to 8 months of excessive adrenaline build up, it changes your physiology. You become sensitized to the epinephrine and used to what it does for you. Initially it may be difficult to cope with, but after awhile, you become so accustomed to it that you can function.

3. Brain in overdrive – It sends your brain into full throttle and your wit becomes majorly amplified. This is because your slower brainwaves in the alpha and theta ranges become severely diminished. Alpha rhythms are drowned out by high amounts of mid and high-range beta brainwaves. This leads to further production of dopamine, epinephrine, and cortisol.

4. Adrenaline floods the body – Your body will feel less relaxed and you may have the urge to move around. You will literally feel the adrenaline coursing throughout your entire body. Senses all become heightened – hearing, vision, taste, smells, and touch.

5. Brain and body conditioned to adrenaline – The sensitization of adrenaline is actually a heightened state of awareness. Your focus on soft sounds makes them seem like they may cause hearing loss; you panic. Bright lights may seem as though they are going to cause blindness. You become highly emotionally sensitive to minor issues and feel as though many things are a personal attack. After awhile though, you may become positive, outgoing, happy, and pleasure seeking. This is because your brains natural supply of chemicals becomes used up by the excess adrenaline and you are left to seek out external stimuli to keep the production going.”

The author also states that “If you are functioning well with high adrenaline, just keep in mind that it may lead to poorer physical health and problems such as: high blood pressure, heart attacks, physical pain, or excessive anxiety and hypochondria. Some people have a minor addiction to adrenaline and/or have it under control, but others cannot seem to cope well with the excess flood of epinephrine and cortisol throughout their nervous system.”

I think this need to keep active has contributed to my sleeping issues, my blood pressure, physical pain, weight gain, and also my gastro issues.  When I do slow down I get this heavy feeling…almost like impending doom.  I start to get a little depressed and then I get busy again.  I don’t ever just let myself spend time with my thoughts- unless I’m writing or in therapy.  This may sound shocking to you (note my sarcasm), but I’m not a huge talker. That’s why I married Leah- she’s my voice. I often find it difficult to come up with topics or even the right words when I’m with people, but I HATE SILENCE.  Silence makes me get really uncomfortable in any situation and It’s going to be a great feat if I can start being more mindful.

Caring for Patrick is helping me start to be okay with silence and to let myself feel the sadness without letting it consume me.

by krubesch

Clicking Forward

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“Shame needs three things to grow exponentially in our lives: secrecy, silence, and judgement” Brené Brown

It’s always weird and kind of awesome when my therapy homework matches up with everything else happening in my life.  It’s like an episode of Sesame Street – like my life seems to have a theme of the week.  This week my therapy homework and my DBT homework are to practice the skill Non- Judgementally.  “What the hell is DBT?”   Wikipedia defines Dialectical behavior therapy (DBT) as “a therapy designed to help people change patterns of behavior that are not effective, such as self-harm, suicidal thinking and substance abuse. This approach works towards helping people increase their emotional and cognitive regulation by learning about the triggers that lead to reactive states and helping to assess which coping skills to apply in the sequence of events, thoughts, feelings and behaviors that lead to the undesired behavior. DBT assumes that people are doing the best that they can, but either are lacking the skills or are influenced by positive or negative reinforcement that interfere with one’s functioning.”

For more information http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dialectical_behavior_therapy

As usual, this post is going to make me come out of hiding even more.  DBT was developed by Marsha Linehan to treat people with Borderline Personality Disorder.  I do not have BPD, but this form of therapy also works really well with people who have PTSD.  I was very skeptical when my therapist suggested that I take this weekly DBT class, but it has changed my life.  Ask my wife…I sound like a therapy guru during our arguments now!

Anyways back to the skill of this week.  My therapist insisted that I buy a counter (featured picture of this week’s blog) and I use the clicker to keep track of how many times I am mean or judgemental towards myself.  It may or may not come as a surprise to you that I have an INTENSE inner critic.  Some of you may know that I am pretty judgemental (it’s getting so much better, so don’t think I’m judging you!) towards other people, but I am way more critical of myself.  I think I am my own worst enemy.  What I did not realize until recently, is that my inner voice comes from being verbally and emotionally abused by my father for most of my childhood and young adult life.  My father presented himself to friends and outsiders as a charming wine enthusiast foodie, but he was a very different man inside our home.

I’ve realized recently that it’s up to me to break the cycle.  It’s my job to figure out if I want to continue to act like an asshole to myself and occasionally my wife or if the cycle stops with me.  Practicing the non-judgementally skill involves the following:

• See, but don’t evaluate. Take a nonjudgmental stance. Just the facts. Focus on
the “what,” not the “good” or “bad,” the “terrible” or “wonderful,” the
“should” or “should not.”
• Unglue your opinions from the facts, from the “who, what, when, and where.”
• Accept each moment, each event as a blanket spread out on the lawn accepts
both the rain and the sun, each leaf that falls upon it.
• Acknowledge the helpful, the wholesome, but don’t judge it. Acknowledge the
harmful, the unwholesome, but don’t judge it.
• When you find yourself judging, don’t judge your judging.
Linehan, pg.113

The last bullet point resonates with me a great deal.  I often find myself judging my judging. It’s a no-win situation. It’s not enough that I call myself an idiot, but then I get mad at myself for calling myself an idiot!

When I went back to therapy last week with my counter in my hand, I excitedly pointed out to my therapist that the counter was only up to 25 clicks for the week.  She looked at me and told me that the goal is ZERO.  My comeback was at least it’s only 25 (during college it probably would have been 25 per day) and that at least now I am becoming aware that I berate myself on a daily basis.  Recognition seems to be the hardest part. Self awareness is not one of my strong suits and I’m amazed at what I’m finding out about myself these days.

The goal of my blog is not to invoke self-pity or to have others fawn over me.  I just wish I had access to anything growing up that would have initiated self kindness or even to know that I was not alone.  Some people have told me I should not air my dirty laundry, but if I don’t air it I contribute to the epidemic of depression, shame, and even to the number of suicidal teens.  I am fully aware that at some point in my life I may be interviewing for a job and they will inevitably google my name and find out that I have all these issues.  If they have a problem with my issues then I don’t want to work for them anyways.

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