Ask For What You Need

As I was driving home I thought about a time when I reached the first crossroad of not cutting.

I was at Meier Clinics in Wheaton for their Out Patient Adult Program.  I'd been feeling rebellious and angry inside.  I wanted to cut up my arms but knew the stuff we were talking about was stirring up uncomfortable emotions.

One morning I decided to wear a t-shirt and my pajama pants to out patient.  It was uncharacteristic for me to wear clothes like those.  I also put all of my cutting tools into a brown paper bag and put it on the floor behind the driver seat of my car.

During break times the other patients and I would talk about our using - alcohol, drugs, cutting, anything we'd use to escape the craziness we felt.

I started doing some bragging by saying things like, "Yeah, technically I'm not breaking the rules because my tools are in my car and I didn't bring them in."  Then we'd start laughing.

Little did I know my therapist was made aware of what was going on.

Later that day, during our session, she confronted me about it. She asked what I had in the car.  I told her the specifics. She asked why I had them.  I told her I really wanted to give them to her so that she could dispose of them and I wouldn't know where they would be.

But when it came time to give them to her I froze.  I wasn't sure I wanted to let go of them.  She tried talking to me but nothing was getting through.  Then she said, "Amy, you brought those here to give to me so let's go get them so I have them."  I told her I had to walk down to the day room to get my keys.

She walked down with me, I grabbed my keys and my backpack.  As we were walking toward the door she said, "Can you leave your backpack in my office as a sign of good faith?"  I replied, "I've already shown you good faith."  "Yes, you have."

We walked out to my car.  As I was opening the car she wrote down my license plate number.  I opened the door then stood to the side.  She asked me where they were.  I motioned behind the back of the driver's seat and she reached down and took out the bag.  She looked inside, sighed a sad sigh then I closed the door.

We stood at the back of my car for a moment.  She asked how I felt.  I said relieved.  She asked if I'd like to come back in for a few minutes.  I said yes (which she later told me surprised her.).

Once we were in her office, she held me while I cried.  I felt very safe in her arms.  She had a way of affirming my efforts even if the way I'd done something was a little sideways.

Although I continued to cut after that day, the memory of giving her those tools and the hug after have been stored in this survivor's memory forever.  I'm very blessed to have had Carol as my therapist.  She helped me make permanent positive changes.

• Self-Care:  Going to therapy that day was hard.  Admitting tough struggles then sharing them with others is no small feat.  Trying to minimize them caught the attention of other counselors which is exactly how I was crying out for help.
• Talking with my therapist openly and honestly was scary.  I didn't want to be hospitalized; I wanted those tools out of my house and not in my garbage.  What I didn't know was how much I longed for a hug from Carol.  To let her hold me while I cried was a big step in our therapeutic relationship.

Thanksgiving Self-Care Style

This is me bundled up for the Turkey Trot

I am so tired yet I'm very proud of myself for the way I structured my day.

When my mom moved up to the north woods of Wisconsin, my one sister got married and my second sister was in college and involved with her now husband.  I had a friend and her family I would be with for Thanksgiving so the three of us were never together.  That was eighteen years ago.

A lot has changed.  I no longer have that friend and both sisters are still married with children and step children.  I've gone to new relatives houses or stayed at home.  I've had more choices which has been very good for the mental illness.

Today was my hometown's Turkey Trot.  It's a 4 mile run or 2 mile run/walk.  I volunteer on our Friends of the Library committee.  The Turkey Trot coordinators/volunteers help us at our Bunny Hop (Easter) then we volunteer at the Turkey Trot.

It was my first time volunteering at the Turkey Trot.  I serve with some of the loveliest ladies who fill my heart.  We do a lot of laughing and have so much fun.  

We were stationed on the highway that enters into our town.  We were privileged to shout and cheer for the veterans and young navy men from Great Lakes Naval Base who were going to eat their holiday meal in our town.  They were waving back with great enthusiasm and hanging out the bus windows.  They were escorted by police cars and fire trucks with their sirens blaring and P.O.W. / M.I.A. flags blowing in the wind on their motorcycles.  We were the only group welcoming them into town.  If I weren't so cold I would have had tears running down my face! 

Once the runners reached mile marker 3 (which is near where we were) all four of us were cheering them on and giving them a high five as they rounded the corner for the final mile.  So many of them thanked us for standing outside in the cold and wished us a Happy Thanksgiving.  We told them they'd be running downhill soon, thanks for participating and to enjoy the rest of their day.  It was especially exciting when a group would be passing through and all of their hands would be reaching out for encouragement or looking for a little connection as they ran that final mile.

When I came home it took about six hours to thaw out.  I ate my Thanksgiving lunch, talked to both of my sisters (I talked to my Mom last night) then rested.  After a couple of hours I felt the fatigue hit.  I had walked with a friend one mile to our station.  It felt good at the time but then WHAMMO! 

I just finished dinner and now I'm going to read the first two days of "The Purpose Driven Life," by Rick Warren.  My 15 year old niece and I are going to Starbucks tomorrow to see if this is the book she wants to read.  I'm trying to find a good one to disciple her and since she said this is one she's wanted to read it's where we are starting.

• Self-Care:  Thanksgiving is not just about what I'm thankful for but also about what I can do that will bring thanks to someone else.  Standing outside with temperatures in the low 20's for about 2 hours can bring thanks from event personnel, event participants, military personnel and veterans, co-volunteers and others you know nothing about.  
• I was invited to share Thanksgiving with others whom I love but I chose not to because I wanted some peace and quiet.  I was looking forward to this day and I loved it.
• Even though I keep looking for Kitten, in my soul I know God has her in the loving gentleness of His hands.  I don't feel sad right now.  I think I'm still holding onto hope that one day I'll drive up and she'll be sitting on my stoop.

Banging On A Friend's Door

I felt very scared this morning when a close friend did not answer her phone.

It wasn't that she didn't answer her phone the first time I called.
Or ten minutes later when I called again.
Or thirteen minutes when I called the third time.

You see, my friend and I talk every morning.
We usually go roaming around to get some of the depression gone.
Because the depression can take a nose dive, we made a deal.

If either one of us does not answer the phone after three phone calls, the other person comes over and makes a visual check.

That's what I had to do.  The last time I did this a friend of hers had picked her up so that's why her car was still in the driveway.  Instant relief.  But this time we had made plans to go out.  She normally warms up her car but the car was in the driveway with frost covering it.

I knocked loudly on her door.  I could hear the DVD playing.  I yelled her name.  The DVD repeated the same song.  I pounded on her door again and yelled her name.  Nothing.  I put my key into her locks and opened the door.

She was laying on the couch - no movement.

My breath stopped and my heart stood still.  And then...

She sat up.  She was surprised to see me.

Everything in me heaved a sigh of relief.

I thought she'd slipped into a diabetic coma or something else had happened.

I told her everything I'd been doing to try and reach her.  She was laughing (which is how she handles stress) then got up and got dressed.  I told her how scared I was thinking she had died.  Then I said, "I'm going to need a few minutes to process what just happened."

It jolted her into the reality of some papers that need to be finished.
It jolted me into making sure those get done.

My friend means a lot to me.

I pray that day of opening her door and finding her in the arms of Heaven doesn't happen too soon.

• Self-Care:  Getting up the courage to walk into an unknown situation takes a lot of faith.  Because I know the medical history of my friend, I know the possible dangers she can be in.  Therefore, I have to stick to the thirty minute reaction time no matter how scared I might be.  

Healing Is Hard Work

When the day is done and I'm finished interacting with people, the weight of what I'm carrying in my mind and my emotions resumes its heaviness.

If the phone rings, I put on the mask of pleasant conversation.  I'll share an outline of obligatory words that describe in very vague terms some of what I've been feeling but even with a trusted friend I will not reveal any of the details.

I sit on my couch, staring at this screen, wondering what to write.  I have no epiphany or poetry or wise words about what I'm experiencing.  No insight or spiritual awakening or story that explains the struggles or ties them together somehow for a specific purpose.

It's just one of those days that's coming to a close with the same heaviness I woke up with this morning.

I know God has a plan for all of it.

I know God will work it out for His good.

I know God will one day take this mess and make it good.

Until then, I work on it with my therapist.

I work on it daily.

I take my medication.

I work on my self-care and my food plan.

And I keep it touch with God so that I can hear what it is He wants me to do, be and become.

Using Word Pictures To Describe Depression

Scene from the movie, "Gettysburg."

I went to see my psychiatrist.  He's the best.  He's very upbeat, asks great questions, listens intently and makes suggestions that are up to you to decide - except medication adjustments.

With all that's been going on, I hadn't planned on how to describe the depression I've been feeling.  When he asked, "Amy, how have you been feeling lately?", I said, "Really, really heavy."  We talked about how this is the worst time of year for me.

Then I remembered one of my favorite DVD's and I gave him this word picture:

"I'm a Civil War buff.  I picture myself as a soldier in the civil war and I'm shooting other soldiers.  But then I get shot and I fall to the ground.  Then I claw at the ground trying to get to safety.  That's how I feel.  I'm clawing my way to safety."

My psychiatrist's reaction was interesting.  He told me that's when I should come into the hospital so he can make adjustments to my medications and I'll be safe.  I told him I wasn't suicidal nor did I want to self-injure.

I told him my therapist and I are tackling some sexual abuse stuff that's really deep.  He let out a big sigh and gave me a dose of encouragement and helpful advice about my eating issues.  He decided to increase one of my anti-depressants and warned me that it might cause the desire to want to eat more.  He wanted me to keep track of it with my therapist and do the hard work of getting through to the other side.  I told him I've worked through one perpetrator.  It's the other five I need to get through.

As always, I left that appointment feeling better than when I first went in.

I don't understand people who don't talk and tell the truth to their therapist and their doctors.  These people are trained to help you.  You go to them for help yet you don't tap into all the help they can give.  The professionals in my life are here because I chose them, with God's help, to be here.  If I didn't trust them they wouldn't be here.

So if you're struggling with finding the right words to tell someone how you feel, use a word picture like I did.  I find movies very helpful.  I hope you find one that works for you.