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/

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.

Triggers

“Ongoing experience convinces me that some children respond to pervasive emotional neglect and abandonment by over-identifying or even merging their identity with the inner critic and adopting an intense form of perfectionism that triggers them into painful abandonment flashbacks every time they are less than perfect or perfectly pleasing.”

Pete Walker

The only time I am in touch with my anger/rage is when I’m driving.  It always shocks me when I venomously yell out curse words or hurl insults at crazy drivers around me.  I don’t recognize my own voice. I have to stop myself from flipping people off.   It’s interesting to me that this is the one situation where I express anger. I guess it’s safe? Because I am in my car and it’s socially acceptable to have some road rage.  No one can hear me and I am in my own space.  Quiet  and calm Katie disappears when I buckle my seatbelt and put my car in drive. I’m becoming more aware of my habits, traits, and actions.

I mentioned in the my last post that I have started EMDR with my therapist and it’s been pretty intense.  I have also been attending DBT (Dialectical Behavior Therapy) class every other week.  Since I’ve begun processing events of my childhood I’ve gone from one regular therapy session and one DBT session to as many as three therapy sessions and one DBT session a week.  I’ve been gauging how I am doing by how many sessions I’ve had to go to in a week.  A four session week means that I am  not doing well and having to take each day an hour at a time.  The good thing is that I’ve been reaching out and asking for more appointments when I need them instead of “toughing” it out.

Since we started doing EMDR I am more aware of my anger and a greater presence of PTSD symptoms.  I’ve been extremely jumpy in my everyday life.  The other day Leah was driving and I literally jumped out of my seat because of brake lights ahead of us. I scared the crap out of both of us!   Today I’ve jumped when the office phone rings, when I hear a loud noise from the restaurant above our office, and when the bank teller surprised me.  I had forgotten what this feels like- always being on edge. I’m also not paying as close attention to tasks and everyday things as I normally do. I went flying over a speed bump that I did not see and took my car and myself by surprise.  Laundry, grocery shopping, and meal planning have been incomplete to my wife’s alarm.  She’s used to me being the one who gets most of this done. Sorry honey!   My therapist says that this is normal and that things are going to get worse before they can get better.  I’m just afraid of what worse means.  I’ve also been way more emotional and triggered by things that I would normally just let roll off my back.

I’ve found myself unable to cry when I feel like I need to.  I don’t know if this is because of the anti depressants or because I’m somehow not in tune enough with myself to let the tears fall.  I’ve recently started getting sad books from the library because when I really get into a book I am able to let the tears flow. I was not sure if this was going to work because I had not tried it with this round of drugs, but last night it did still work. Is this self-care? I’m not sure.   I am able to identify more with a book than with my own life. I’m not quite sure what this says about me.

Sorry if this is TMI, but my entire blog is pretty much “too much information.” I was diagnosed with a urinary tract infection yesterday and boy has this been the biggest trigger so far.  It’s all I can do to stay awake and present with the pain from my lady parts. I’d love to just retreat by going to bed and pop a trazadone to fall asleep until the pain goes away.   I’m really glad my therapist and I did not do EMDR last night during our session because I don’t think I could have handled having flashbacks along with this intense pressure in my pelvic area. It was nice to be able to go home and be with Leah and lose myself in a book after therapy last night.  I think reading has always been a welcome escape for me even as a child. I remember loving how reading could take me away from the present moment and into the lives of other people.  I felt like I had a relationship with others through stepping into their lives.  I’m still learning which of my coping skills are “effective and kosher” and which are not.  I know that in a way reading lets me dissociate from the present, but it also serves as a great distraction.  It’s a lot better than drinking, self-harming, or eating.

More info about DBT http://behavioraltech.org/resources/whatisdbt.cfm

Gratitude

 

 

 “Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend.”

Melody Beattie

One of my DBT skills I am working on this week involves making a gratitude list.  Since it’s November, I thought it would be appropriate to share some items that have made it on my list.  Leah, of course is always at the top when I think about the good things in my life.  We have a way of balancing each other’s crazy and I think to a degree we know each other better than we know ourselves.   My time with Patrick has accentuated how important it is for me to recognize the positives in my life and for that I am truly grateful.  Even though it is heart wrenching at times, I think taking this job is one of the best things that has happened to me.  I am able to get a perspective that I could not get while trying to climb up the corporate health care ladder.  There was not time to take a step back and enjoy life when I was leaving the house at 6:00am-6:30am and returning home anywhere from 6:30pm-8:00pm.  If I wasn’t grumpy from the long hours and endless texts, the traffic made sure I arrived home in  heinous mood.

I am learning important life lessons from Patrick that are necessary at this point in my life. Success is not as important as I once thought or maybe my definition has changed drastically.  Today I would define success as a happy home.  Nothing else really matters.  I can make all the money in the world, but if I can’t enjoy the time I have right now with my wife, than what’s the point?   I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future and making memories now might be my saving grace when life throws another curve ball my way.

Patrick has also shown me that men folk are not that bad.  I have to admit that I judge men pretty harshly.  One has to be an extraordinary man in order to make it into my inner circle.  I was taught at an early age that men are generally mean, judgmental, and unpredictable.

My father died nine years ago this month.  I tend to wrap my feelings into nice little packages and push them deep down.   I think I still have a lot of grief to work out not from the sadness of his passing, but from the death of hope.

My dad was ill most of my life.  I think he had his first heart surgery when I was six years old.  Fifth grade was spent predicting what kind of dinner we were going to have by which hospital my dad was currently living in.  Swedish Hospital has the best turkey tetrazzini by far.  We had to call 911 on Christmas of that year because my father passed out after being at home only for a couple of days.  That holiday was spent with my mother preparing my brother and I for my fathers nearing death.  My brother also had to learn CPR in case my dad passed out again while he was at home.  Within days my mother was teaching me how to do my own laundry in preparation for her departure for San Diego in hopes that my father would receive a successful heart transplant.  I would be staying at home with my 18 year old brother.  I remember a talk in the dark before my mother left that involved the idea that my mother may come back to us alone- without my father.  Fourteen years later my father died and I think I spent that entire time aware that I had to be prepared for him to die at any moment.

When I received the phone call that my father was in a coma and only had 24 hours to live I dissolved into tears.  I think in that moment it wasn’t necessarily my father’s death that was overwhelming, but all hope was gone of ever having a relationship with him.  I would never get his approval.  It didn’t matter how thin I was or if I lettered in soccer, or that I worked for straight A’s my senior year in college….my dad was dead and I never made him proud of me.

I am ashamed to admit that I hoped my mother would come back from San Diego alone or at least that my father would have a personality transplant along with his heart. It’s been a long time since I’ve thought about that time and I think working with Patrick has had me thinking and processing a lot about my dad. Towards the end my father also suffered from dementia so this dance with Patrick is somewhat familiar.  I’m able to feel and work though my emotions this time.  Patrick is not dangerous territory for me.  He is gentle, sweet and caring.  I don’t have to worry about what might come out of his mouth or the stinging impact of showing kindness to a man who did not show me any.  I don’t have any baggage with Patrick.  I’m ready every morning for whatever comes my way that day and I don’t have any expectations as to how clear or fuzzy he might be.  I consider it a good day when we share a laugh or a smile and it’s an exceptional day when that laugh also comes with the recognition of my name.  An added bonus is when that witty sense of humor comes out and we banter.    We like watching concerts together, going to the park with his family, looking at old family photos, and watching a good movie.

There is a DBT skill where you find the good in a bad/difficult situation.   I am grateful that Patrick is teaching me how to be present in the moment and to be more aware that moments are precious and it’s important to enjoy them instead of dwelling on the past or worrying about the future.

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Detachment

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“If you trade your authenticity for safety, you may experience the following: anxiety, depression, eating disorders, addiction, rage, blame, resentment, and inexplicable grief.”
Brené Brown

Many of you might think that the gender roles are easy to determine in my marriage, but just when you think you might have us figured out we swap places.  Leah does remove bugs from our house, but I mow the lawn.  We both cook- I cook a little bit more.  We both take pride in a clean house and in decorating.  I comfort Leah when she cries, which is often and I also mend our clothes with my minimal sewing knowledge. I fix the dishwasher and Leah plants our garden.  I show people I care by my actions and Leah uses her words. Leah is sensitive and I’m more shut off, which is why I thought “zoning out” and not really having a wide range of emotions made me a more dude like woman.   I thought that I just fit that male stereo type, but apparently it’s called dissociation.

“Dissociation is a phenomenon most people have the capacity to experience.  It is a coping mechanism used to manage stressors as minor as over-stimulation or as severe as sexual abuse.  As a way of coping, dissociation occurs when the brain compartmentalizes traumatic experiences to keep people from feeling too much pain, be it physical, emotional, or both.  When dissociation occurs, you experience a detachment from reality, like ‘spacing out.’  Part of you just isn’t ‘there in the moment.’” http://trauma.blog.yorku.ca/2013/04/the-fragmented-child-disorganized-attachment-and-dissociation/

I’ve been numbing my feelings and zoning out as long as I can remember.  It’s pretty crazy to me that I didn’t know that I dissociate until age 32.  I have counted ceiling tiles, organ pipes, stained glass windows and hats at church as long as I can remember.  Even on the rare occasion I am at church now, I find myself doing the same thing.  Leah will often ask me what I’m thinking and I honestly don’t have an answer for her on many occasions.  We will also have entire conversations that I don’t remember even though I’ve acted like I was listening and given answers where appropriate at the time.

My feelings happen in extremes. I know I’m mad when steam is about to come out my ears, I realize I’m stressed and overwhelmed once I feel tears threatening to fall down my face, and I know I’m depressed when I contemplate the pros and cons of ending my life.  I know I’m sad when I feel that hollow pain in my stomach and all I want to do is cry or sleep.

This is why I feel like I have become slightly narcissistic.  My blog is pretty much all about my thoughts and experiences due to the simple fact that I am experiencing and noticing parts of myself for the first time.  I’m slowly able to notice when my emotions are not overwhelming which is nice, but also uncomfortable.  By noticing a wider range of emotions I am able to feel content, happy, and relaxed.  Along with these feelings come boredom, indifference, and slight sadness. It’s the boredom and slight sadness that are the hardest for me to experience.  I know how to handle myself when I’m in the depths of despair.  I’m really good at that, but just sitting with a twinge of sadness is really hard.  I found myself getting mad at myself because I “shouldn’t” be sad at that particular moment.  I’ve found that “should” is a dangerous word.  “Should” has dictated my entire life and it’s really annoying how much I am catching myself using it.

I can’t help but to think about my childhood more as I am becoming aware of the ways I learned how to protect myself as a child.  On some level I think that I’ve always had an attraction towards women.  I’ve always looked up to role models in my life who were women.  I thought I wanted to be Gwen Stefani, but in reality I wanted to date her.  It would have been problematic for me to have figured I was gay at an earlier age, so I am thankful that I protected myself from that information. It’s amazing how the brain works.  How it knows when the rest of the body is able and ready to deal with memories and thoughts that it had hidden away.  My therapist told me early on that I still have these issues to work out because I was not ready until now.  These issues did not present themselves because my brain knew that I was not ready.  That’s intense.

I’m an analytical person so I tend to beat a dead horse into the ground.  I research things that are going on with me such as side effects to certain medications, information about any ailments, diagnoses,or issues that I’m having.  I guess that’s the way I process and start to understand things.  I’ve had to work very hard in school and developed a great if not excessive work ethic, so it’s foreign to me just to accept things as they are.  Part of me wants to determine the aspects of my personality that I have because I was abused and what is just me.  Unfortunately I don’t think I’ll be able to find the answer, but I need to learn to accept myself simply for who I am.

Feelings Image taken from pegitboard.com

Adrenaline Junkie

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“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.

Clicking Forward

counter

“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.

judgement

Side Effects


There’s a dark and a troubled side of life
There’s a bright and a sunny side, too
Tho’ we meet with the darkness and strife
The sunny side we also may view

Keep on the sunny side, always on the sunny side,
Keep on the sunny side of life
It will help us every day, it will brighten all the way
If we’ll keep on the sunny side of life

Tho’ the storm in its fury broke today,
Crushing hopes that we cherished so dear;
Storm and cloud will in time pass away
The sun again will shine bright and clear.

Keep On The Sunny Side of Life

Written by Ada Blenkhorn in 1899.
Music by J. Howard Entwisle.

I’ve been told recently by my new psychiatrist (she’s actually good!) that since I’ve had three major depressive episodes in my life the chances of me having another one is pretty high.  Therefore I must continue taking the all of the anti’s (medications) probably for the rest of my life.  It turns out that depression is an actual medical condition, not a choice like I’ve been told in the past!  Who knew?   I have been on and off medication since I was 16 years old.  It used to bother me that I had to take medication in order to lead a life that includes happiness and sleep, but I’m radically accepting this fact.  I was off meds for 9 years after college.  I was proud to be off the medications because of the feeling that I had conquered my demons and that I was controlling my feelings and emotions.  A nice perk of being off of medication is the avoidance of the dreaded side effects that come with taking medications.

DISCLAIMER- Anyone currently taking any of these medications may not have any of these issues.  Medications affect people differently and this is only my personal first hand experience. I am a special snowflake and these might work great for you!  DO NOT stop taking your meds simply because I have had these experiences!

I will start at the beginning with the medications that were especially memorable.  Ambien, oh Ambien.  How confusing it was to wake up outside or with food wrappers in my bed.  I apparently had an affinity for eating pop tarts while sleeping when I was on Ambien.   I also turned into a mid night drinker at the age of 16 when I didn’t really care for or like the taste of alcohol.  I would leave beer bottles on the kitchen counter and then get into trouble the next morning only vaguely remembering holding one in my hand.

Straterra was always fun.  I was told that this ADHD medication can help with PTSD symptoms, although I think the doctor was getting kickbacks anytime she prescribed this medication.  If y’all know me, I would in no way shape or form be described as someone who has ADHD symptoms.  Taking this medication can result in the following side effects: “stomach upset, nausea, vomiting, constipation, tiredness, loss of appetite/weight loss, dry mouth, dizziness, drowsiness, trouble sleeping, or decrease in sexual ability/desire may occur” (http://www.rxlist.com/strattera-side-effects-drug-center.htm).  Sounds like fun right?  I did not stay on this medication very long because it caused me to maniacally clean my room at three o’clock in the morning for several nights.  My mom might have loved this medication if it had not also made me irritable and tired.

Remeron, an antidepressant just made me more depressed.  It also made me want to eat everything in sight.   What girl with perfectionist tendencies doesn’t love gaining 30 lbs in a semester?  I put a stop to this one because it made me hate myself even more.

The most recent medication that has affected me was Cymbalta.  I could deal with the stomach upset, shaky hands, and decreased appetite.  It was the increase in my blood pressure that was a problem for me.  The highest my blood pressure got was 149/131 when I was coming off this medication and I am 32 years old. My family also has a huge history of high bp and Heart Disease.  I was told that I did not need to taper off this medication since I had only been on it a month.  That was a huge mistake.  I had something called brain zaps, crazy mood swings, and the shakiest hands I have ever had in my life.  This resulted in ultimately in my decision to take a FMLA leave of absence from my job for three weeks.

So, radically accepting that I am going to probably have my best friend Depression around the rest of my life means finding medication that has side effects I can deal with.   I am currently accepting the fact that I sweat like a pig, have very shaky hands, loss of coordination, and a dry mouth from Zoloft.  I can accept these conditions as long as I am not falling down into the deep black hole.  I have just started Trazadone for the second time and we will see how that goes.  I am on a much smaller dose this go around so my hangover this morning was way better than when I was in college.  I remember having to peel my eyelids open with my fingers in order to wake up in the morning.

Patrick and I had a bonding moment today about our shaky hands and who was going to make his pills steady enough to get into his mouth this morning.  We are both having on off day together.

Please excuse my sweatiness if you see me sometime soon!