Winter Depression

In the northwest suburbs of Chicago, gray skies and the cold chill in the air are signs that winter has arrived.  Even the first big snowfall that has already melted reminds me that we've only just begun the season of shoveling, tossing ice melt and warming up our cars. 

Then there are snowplows clearing streets, parking lots and driveways all hours of the day and night spreading salt and people firing up their snowblowers (I wish more would help their neighbors). 

Kids bundled up sledding down hills, building snow characters and forts, and snowballs flying through the air.  Parents pulling saucers or wagons with little ones holding on or a dog or two enjoying a ride!

Snowmobiles.  Ice fishing.  Ice hockey.  Ice skating.  Chewing on icicles.  Don't eat yellow snow.  Walking on the frozen river.  Some good memories of my childhood.

Even with all of these activities happening all around us, especially the celebrated arrival of Jesus Christ on Christmas Day, many of us feel depressed.  Our reason for winter depression is as different as there are people yet we all feel the same.  None of us is alone in our depression.

The lie we believe?
"I am alone."  No, you're not!

The truth:
"God loves you.  He sees you.  He hears you when you call out to him.  He collects every tear you shed.  He wants to have a personal relationship with you and you with him."

Winter Depression is hard and it's harder without a care team.  Seek help from a psychiatrist, a therapist, or ask your doctor.

Use my links on the right to get started with NAMI and The Mighty.

Bipolar Depression

Bipolar depression is a thief that steals joy, basic function and all desires of being able to feel better.

It creeps up on you like a thief in the night and robs you of happiness, freedom to live a full life and be able to do tasks that can set your mind free and at ease.

It captures your head in a vice. 
It doesn't squeeze but you can feel your head heavy.
Thoughts are non-existent.
Feelings?  Swing from anger to frustration then to denial and back again.

There's no mania.
Nothing to rescue you from the cold darkness inside.
I try to sleep but I can't.
I hear myself cry out in the night.

Bipolar depression.
Pain locked up inside with no way to escape.
No one to talk to.
My therapist is out for the day. 

I talk to my doctor via my portal.
She's compassionate.
I feel......warmth.
Then I'm dead.

I close my eyes.
I'm tired.
I can't sleep.
I'm bipolar depression.

The End

How I Survive Suicidal Thoughts

My story out of the darkness.

"My name is Amy.  I am twelve years old and I can't stop him from hurting me.  I have nowhere to go.  Nowhere is safe.  I live in a family but I am alone."

That was my first suicide attempt almost forty years ago.  It failed.  I woke up and cleaned our house as if nothing had happened.  I went back to living with an overly abusive dad, feeling scared and alone, hoping someone would hear my silent cries for help.

Two years later, my mom did.

Even though I've had years of extensive recovery, including a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, the one thing that remains a constant battle is suicidal thoughts.  They are intrusive and at times very intense.  No amount of prayer has lessened the frequency of intrusion.

But that's not the end.

I have learned one life saving truth:  My suicidal thoughts are triggered by several factors and experiences.  I have to be and I do mean HAVE TO BE gut level raw honest with myself AS SOON AS THOSE THOUGHTS START.  Honest about what and what do I do?

Below are the five basic things I do to keep myself alive:

1.  What am I feeling?  For me, feeling suicidal is not a feeling.  It's a response to how I'm REALLY feeling.  The suicidal thoughts are the ugly monster that is holding me hostage.  I'm usually feeling depressed, hopeless, scared (most of the time), overwhelmed, alone, not understood, misunderstood, a freak, unlovable, angry, like my mental illness is winning and my chronic pain hurts hurts hurts.

2.  I stop dwelling on the suicidal thoughts.  If you feed the monster the monster will grow.  Now that I've identified the real feeling, even if I'm still feeling a bit shaky, I can move forward just a little bit.  I don't try to work on the feeling too much.  Maybe some drawing but definitely time with my therapist and a friend.

3.  I change my posture.  I don't have suicidal thoughts when I'm standing and moving around.  I have them when I'm laying down or sitting in deep thought.  If I'm having a bad chronic pain day, I try to shift my posture even if it's for only a few minutes.  The goal is to break the thought pattern with body movement.

4.  I redirect myself.  Just this past week I was triggered and couldn't identify what I was feeling.  It wasn't until a few days later when I realized how sad I felt at the momentum suicide is gaining and the lives the monster is enveloping.  When I met with my therapist and told her about my struggle, I cried.  Then I  told her about a goal I made which redirected those thoughts into something positive.  I felt proud of myself.

5.  I remind myself that help is available and these thoughts are just thoughts.  They cannot harm me.  It feels like they can at the time they're happening but that's the LIE the monster tells.  It's not true!

I hope this gives you some usable ideas and helps you on your journey toward healing and wholeness!

If you can't shake those suicidal thoughts on your own and want to talk to someone 24/7 please dial 800-273-8255.

God loves you.  He hasn't abandoned you or forgotten about you.  In fact, he created you for a very special purpose!  Please stay and find out what that is.

I Dream

Oh how I dream that there would be an organization where people with mental illness and disabilities and fixed low incomes, who fall through the help of government help, could go to for financial assistance when charities and churches can no longer help.

Am I meant to start such a place?

A place of pooled resources from those who have much who have a heart for the plight of the moderate poor in our country?  A heart for those who are judged and even frowned upon for living in America where so much abundance overflows yet they are forced to scavenge for their most basic needs.  Needs like good nutrition, reliable transportation and excellent health care.

Why are we who are living on so little forced to deal with so much?  Why do some of us, myself included, feel so dependent on those close to us but so embarrassed and ashamed to mutter the words we too often have to say:  Help me, again.

I cringe every time and I cry at the thought.

I look into the future of the next couple of months and know summer is only going to get hotter in the northern suburbs of Chicago.  Yes, I have two window air conditioners already mounted from previous years but something is different this year.  This year I didn't qualify for LIHEAP - a program for low income energy assistance.  I missed it by $64.  I missed out on about $700 worth of help by $64.  It's the reality we live with everyday.  We who are marginalized in this country. 

I'm not looking for pity.  I'm not looking for...I don't know.  I'm just saying, people like me who live on fixed incomes and aren't faking it really do struggle to survive.  But we are also some of the strongest people you'll ever meet.

We say no to a lot.  Sometimes we say yes when we should say no but who doesn't?  Then there are days like today when you give yourself permission to feel overwhelmed and sad for a bit but you know you have God on your side and you're truly not alone in the mess of this life.

So maybe I have to let my fingers do some research for financial assistance elsewhere.  Maybe I have to not run the air conditioning but that also makes me physically ill so that's not really an option.  I know God has a plan so all I have to do is the footwork.

For the future, way in the future, maybe if my book is successful, I can help people - after I help myself a little bit.  Maybe I can start a ministry that can give one time gifts to those in need as the IRS allows.  And maybe, with God's blessing, He and I can start something that will be healthy, joyous and free.

Because, people like me?  Our needs never go away.

And I think we are unfairly discriminated.

Soul Cleansing

One of my all time favorite books is written by Ken Gire, "Windows of the Soul."  Just the mention of the name brings back feelings of warmth.  It was a gift from a woman on my serving team, a gift that was wrapped unsuspiciously and delivered with the words, "Here, Amy.  I think you'll really like this."

I was captivated by the message of that little book.  It packed a powerful punch to a young thirty something who had questions about the longings in her own soul, the souls of others and what souls were really all about.

I understood our Eternal soul - the one Jesus came to this earth for, to pay the ultimate price for our sin, to die and rise on the third day, ascending into heaven to take His seat at the right hand of God and send us the Holy Spirit.  The promise of my soul eternally in heaven.

But...the treachery and debauchery of the human soul.  The agony of failure, the diseased mind of the tortured soul.  The emptiness of the lost and lonely soul.  The soul that longs for comfort in the middle of the darkest nights when tears won't come anymore and the crying sounds are now silent because there is no more voice inside...no more breath to push out the pain.  There's no word to describe that condition of a soul.

But we've seen it or heard about it.
Or we've experienced it ourselves.
Or we've held someone through it.

Most of us pray it never happens to us.
Some of us aren't so lucky.

Or are we?

I'm the survivor of a lot of abuse.  I don't wave a flag with all my hurts on it and I don't consider my pain and suffering any worse or better than anyone else.  Sin is sin and it hurts everybody.  That's why we all need Jesus.  I know that's why I do.

In my healing journey, since the age of fourteen, I've had dozens of breakthroughs.  I'm rarely grateful for the pain and discomfort I go through beforehand and even less rarely grateful for the crying and memories I go through during the breakthrough but this I can tell you every time:

God is with me through all stages of what I like to call SOUL CLEANSING.

That's the deep down stuff that needs to be rooted out.  For me, this morning, it was feeling the sadness about what happened to me as a little girl and no longer putting on my "brave" behavior.  No more being strong when I talk about it, no more lessening the hurt because I forgave the alcoholic, no more stuffing down the tears because I should be done with this by now - nope.  I'm going to cry and it might take awhile.

And you know what?  God answered some prayers I've been praying.  He always knows what I need to get rid of before He can add to my pile.  He is my anchor and I do hope He is yours!

Get yourself some SOUL CLEANSING!

“Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed; save me, and I shall be saved, for you are my praise.”
‭‭Jeremiah‬ 17:14 ESV

Chronic Back Pain

In August of 1992, I was driving to work when the truck in front of me came to a sudden stop. The guy behind me had no idea we were slowing down and hit me at about 45 to 55 miles per hour as I was swerving to avoid him.  My car sped onto the wet grass.  I heard my hatchback glass shatter, tiny pieces flew everywhere.  Still unable to stop, two objects came into view very quickly. One was a swimming pool.  The other was a tree. At that time of year the swimming pool would be full of water.  I had a fear of drowning so I prayed that I would hit the tree and I did.  BOOM!

Then it was silent.  I sat still.  Too stunned to move.  Little chards of glass were everywhere.  I checked my body.  No blood.  My right knee, neck, shoulder and low back hurt.  The windshield wasn't cracked so my head was okay.  I wore my seatbelt and saw a long mark on my neck where it rested.  Then I looked out my window.

Three people got out of their cars to check on me.  One of them was a 911 dispatcher.  I was less than a mile from where I worked.  I wondered if anyone in the traffic knew it was me.

I was taken to the hospital and x-rayed.  I could tell right away that something was wrong with my low back.  Eighteen months later I had my first back surgery.  Six months later I returned to work full time.  Sixteen years later I had my second back surgery.

Chronic back pain has been part of my everyday life since the day of the accident.  I have some level of pain everyday but I'm not on painkillers unless I can barely move.  Even then, I'm under the care of a physian who is very careful with what she prescribes.

In the last five months, I've had two major flare ups.  I'm in one today.  These are times when I'm limited to laying down and not much else.  Sometimes I talk to God, sometimes I reflect, sometimes I read and sometimes I sleep. 

These are the days I pay particularly close attention to what's going on in my inner world.  Nowadays I feel a type of cleansing and renewing of my emotional world.  Writing the book is purging and bringing into perspective chronic pain of another kind that God wants to continue healing.

For that, I am very glad!

Aaron Tribute Video

After Aaron's funeral, we were given a CD that had family photos of him on it. 

Over the years I had collected some of my own.

I decided to make a video in remembrance of him.  Something that would last a lifetime.

But what song would I use?

Many years ago my dad gave my sister's and I a copy of Rod Stewart's song, "Forever Young."  I listened to it.  It was perfect.

Aaron's video:

Aaron Died - Day 5

(Most of this is taken from 2015)

Morning came.
It was somber.  It was sad.
It was very sad.

All of us said our good-byes.
Aaron was taken away so we waited.
We were told the organs had to be harvested in a certain time frame which meant Aaron had to pass away by a certain time.
So, we waited.

And then the strangest news came from his doctor - Aaron didn't die.
He was supposed to die because of all the trauma to his brain.
His breathing should have stopped on it's own, having been disconnected from the ventilator.
But Aaron had a very strong heart.
Or, God had another plan.

Early in the afternoon, Aaron was brought back up to his room.
He was breathing on his own, his heart was beating strong.
There was no false hope that he was going to wake up.
It was a matter of time before he died.

I was sitting with Aaron's mom when she stood up to leave.
She asked, "Amy, will you stay with Aaron today and come get me when it happens?"
I couldn't believe she trusted me with her son's final moments.
"Yes," I said, without hesitation.

I stood watch over Aaron like a knight guarding a castle.
I watched the nurses check on him and asked questions.
I was able to answer questions his mom and dad asked.
Family members felt better knowing I was in there keeping watch over him.

Hours passed by and nothing changed.  It got to be around 10:00 p.m.
I thought to myself, "Why is he still here?  What's holding him here?"
Then I remembered something.  He hasn't had a bath today.
This young guy likes to be clean and he hasn't had a bath.
I went to the nurse's station and asked if they could give Aaron a bath.
Yes, they sure could.

I sat in a chair at the foot of the bed (not watching, of course).  Just as the nurse was finishing up I asked, "Is one of the signs, of him passing away, his blood pressure dropping like that?"  "Yes."   "Should I go get his family?"  "Yes."

I quickly scooted out to the waiting room just as his mom and dad were about to get into the elevator.  I said, "It's time."  Aaron's mom looked at me and I waved she and Aaron's dad toward me and said, "C'mon, now, it's time."

As they hurried she said, "Family only."
I stayed in the waiting room and she said, "Amy, you're with me."
Aaron's dad, his oldest brother, his aunt and uncle, myself, his mom and his other aunt and uncle surrounded his bed.  His other family members and girlfriend either stayed in the waiting room or went home earlier.

We watched the monitor as Aaron's blood pressure and heartbeat slowly went down.
Those of us in that room watched his life transition peacefully and quietly.
And when that machine made the sound that broke the silence,
I knew our loved one was in the arms of the One who brought him home.

And we cried.  All of us cried. 
Aaron was gone.

We stayed there for awhile.  Then slowly got up to leave.  I had no words.  Just my eyes and body language that communicated love and remorse.

Walking to my car I couldn't help but think how I was leaving Aaron's empty shell behind.  His soul was already in Heaven and he was enjoying a welcome home party like nothing he could have ever imagined!

The days ahead would be sad for those of us who would miss him but like my mom said:  Satan did not win this battle!

Did that bath make a difference?  I like to think so.  I like to think it was Aaron's last way of making us laugh by saying, "You know I don't go anywhere without being clean." 

And so he was.

Aaron's Death - Day 4

There's not much to write on this day because it was the day final decisions were made.

Aaron's mom and dad met with the doctor. All tests had been performed.  All measurements had been taken.  Every possible contingency had been considered.

There was no hope of any kind.

Aaron was brain dead.  He was blind, deaf, paralyzed from the neck down and in a permanent vegetative state.  He would never open his eyes, never walk, never talk, never have any motor skills at all.  His brain damage was severe and it was permanent without correction.

We had time to say our good-byes privately without interruption.  When one of us came out of his room with tears, no explanation was needed.  We are a family.

Later in the day, Aaron's mom and dad told us what was going to happen tomorrow.

They decided Aaron's organs would be donated - that's something Aaron would want.  Mid-morning he would be disconnected from the ventilator and brought down to the operating room.  When the organs were harvested he'd be brought back to his room before being transported to the funeral home.

If people wanted to be here in the morning, when all of this was taking place, that was okay.

Everyone went home that night knowing in less than 12 hours Aaron would be gone.

Aaron's Death - Day 3

Still waiting.

Doctors are running more tests.
Aaron has no function in his brain.
He is blind.
Is there any hope?

Alateens from another state hear about Aaron.  They know him.  They pack up cars and bring t-shirt supplies for us to make memories of him.  I took a break from being with him and made one.

The family has decided it's the last day for students and friends to visit.  Doctors have given their final words.

There is no hope for recovery of any kind.

Aaron's final day has been decided.

At Easter the previous Sunday, our family shared the good news of Jesus Christ with Aaron at dinner. Each of us shared how we asked Jesus into our heart to forgive our sins and Aaron sat quietly and listened. He asked us some questions and listened some more. We never asked him if he wanted to ask Jesus into his heart.  I wanted to make sure he was asked that question.

That day at the hospital I brought two pins. A cross and an angel. I brought the cross in case he could hear me ask him about Jesus.  I also brought my camera. I was able to have some alone time with Aaron. I walked to the head of his bed, looked at his face and said:

" Aaron, if you can hear me, I have a question to ask you. Last weekend we talked to you about Jesus and how he forgives us for our sins and when we ask him into our hearts to forgive us for our sins he does so and we're promised an Eternity in heaven when we die. Aaron if you would like to receive Jesus as your savior and forgiver of your sins and if you'd like for me to baptize you please give me a sign."

I watched Aaron's face and I watched Aaron's body and I looked back up at his face and a tear rolled down from his eye.

I started to cry. I licked my thumb and ran it across his forehead each time saying, "I  baptize you in the name of the Father, in the name of his son Jesus Christ, and in the name of the Holy Spirit."  I pinned the angel to his hospital gown.  I took the Cross pin,  held it on his hand and took a picture.  Then I pinned the cross next to the angel.

I believe Aaron accepted Jesus that day.  So do many others who have heard this story.  There was one witness in the room with me.  His parents were very grateful I had done that with Aaron.

Only God, who loves us so much, can reach us in our darkest hour.

Aaron's Death - Days 1 & 2

It's the eighth year anniversary of my 18 year old nephew Aaron's unexpected death.  We're on the second of five days that he laid in I.C.U. having been revived without oxygen - without a heartbeat for ten minutes.  Revived but unresponsive.

I remember the phone call.  The drive to the hospital.  Praying before I walked in.

Both families gathered.  Friends.  Students.  Waiting.  Hoping.  Praying.

What happened?  How did he get here?

He was huffing propane in the back of a friend's car and stopped breathing.  They pulled over, called 911 and performed CPR.  The ambulance arrived. 

I sat with my nieces.  Talked with my nephews and sisters.  Listened to my brother-in-law give us updates.  I was asked if I wanted to see Aaron by myself.  I did.

I walked back to his area.  He was laying so still.  No movement at all.  Tubes breathing for him.  I talked quietly.  I placed my hand on his head and sensed nothing. 

Going home that night, I knew the week ahead was going to be long and emotional.  I asked God to help me serve my family well and to be a source of comfort.

The second day Aaron had his own room.  Droves of his friends were coming by and it was heartbreaking.  Comforting them with our own tears, warm eyes and hugs was all we could do.  They expected him to be fine.

More tomorrow.

Fatigue

One of the symptoms I dread most about mental illness is fatigue.  The low energy, sluggish feeling that looms darkly for days or weeks at a time.  It doesn't matter if the sun is shining or if my mood is good.  It's fatigue and it sucks.

This time, all of my joints were screaming in pain.  I ached all over.  The weather in Chicagoland wasn't helping.  Ah the joys of winter leaving and spring arriving.  I decided to go see my doctor just to be sure something else wasn't wrong (I had other symptoms, too).  Lots of bloodwork later, I was fine.

Now I wait.

I make sure I rest and push myself just a little bit to take care of myself and the living around me.  Namely, my cats.  I don't isolate.  I keep taking my meds as prescribed.  I do the basics.

One day, the fatigue will lift.
One night, I will sleep better.

Until then, I keep my faith in God that He'll give me the strength I need each day to do His will.  Today, He gave me the strength to do some writing.
For that, I am very grateful.

It's the little things!

Update from the Author

Hello!

My apologies for the lengthy time between my last post and this one.  I have been working on a project that is challenging and rewarding.  I'm writing my story in book form to fulfill God's calling or purpose for my life which is, "To bring hope and healing to those who are still suffering."

"Suffering?"  Yes, from the pain of things I've shared in all of my blog posts.  All of it.  Weaving it together, without triggering details, with the thread of hope and healing power of God's love for us.

I have been blessed with a small group of women who are praying, a supportive family who are helping with some of the factual history and friends who are typing or reading or helping sort through 1,200 pieces of paper of past blog writings to help with content ideas.

Very often I feel inadequate for what God has asked me to do.  When I write, I relive what happened to me.  No longer to the level of total trauma but there's always a sense of sadness.  Thank goodness there are cognitive behavior therapy tools to use.  Thank goodness there are rainbows after the storms.

I feel like Moses standing in front of the burning bush which when he takes a closer look, isn't actually burning.  Then he hears a voice speak to him.  You can find this true account in Exodus 3.

The voice tells him three things:

1.  Take off your sandals for where you are standing is holy ground.

Moses complies.

2.  I have heard the cries of my people and I have come to rescue them.

Moses is glad.

3.  I am sending - you.

Moses - huh?  Who am I?  What if they don't believe me?

Christian comedian Ken Davis acts out a funny little drama using this passage of scripture.  He picks up from where I left off.

Isn't that true of us?  We want proof ahead of time that everything that's going to happen is going to be okay BEFORE we act.  But that wasn't what God was teaching Moses.  He was reassuring Moses that he would not be alone, that God would be with him throughout everything that was going to happen, good or bad.

That's what I've held onto throughout my recovery.  It's what I continue to hold onto as I write my book.  God and I are doing this life together.

I wouldn't want to do anything without Him.

He's the Creator.
I'm the creation.
As it should be.