The Elusive Hope Returns

Today's post is about something which most people take for granted, but people who have dealt with a depression episode have struggled to find or hang onto. Today's post is about hope.

In Christianity it's common to hear about faith, hope, and charity. They're the three theological virtues as taught by Paul. In my religion, they're stressed as important to find. Faith and Charity get the most attention, but hope is also important. And when you're depressed, you lose hope.

This can be incredibly difficult. Hope is what keeps us going. Hope is what gives us reason to look forward to tomorrow. Hope is what keeps us looking forward to the 2nd coming of Christ. Hope is integral to being able to function in the world, and especially in the Christian faith.

When I was a teenager, I realized I lost hope during one of my depression episodes. I felt like a failure, like I had done something wrong to lose this virtue. I prayed and prayed for hope to come back. I shed many tears over my lack of hope. Then my depression episode shifted into either a normal episode or a hypomanic one (I don't remember which), and like flipping a switch, my hope in both the future and my God returned.

That should have been a lightbulb moment for me. I should have put the pieces together, that it wasn't me that was failing, it was my brain acting up. But it didn't. It took several more years before I learned my views of depression and how it affected my life were wrong.

Fast forward to today. Today I had a measure of hope return. As you know, I've been struggling with depression lately. I've had 2 episodes in the last 6 months and it's taken its toll. I'm emotionally worn down. Last night I realized I was lacking a measure of hope. So, being religious, I prayed. I prayed that I could overcome the residual effects of the depression (because it's mostly gone thanks to meds). One of those residual effects is my lack of hope. And I was not left empty-handed.

This morning I met with my psychiatrist. After talking about my symptoms and what I'm struggling with, he recommended a change in my mood-stabilizer. We're taking me of Zyprexa and putting me on Latuda. Zyprexa is known to cause weight gain, which I've had, partially due to the fact it triggers the body to crave carbs, especially sugar. On this medication, I crave sugar all the time. If there's something sweet, I eat it. I have almost no self control. Zyprexa also causes drowsiness. And boy have I been drowsy! I sleep 9-12 hours a night and if I only get 9, I need to take a nap during the day (at least an hour) in order to feel human and focus. There might be some other things going on, but I know the Zyprexa is a big part of why I'm so tired all the time. I can't live my life constantly gaining weight and feeling exhausted. I've been really worried about these things, especially as I prepare for my future. I need a mood stabilizer though, so I felt trapped. My psychiatrist telling me we could switch my mood stabilizer to one that is considered weight-neutral (i.e. it does not cause cravings and weight gain) and that doesn't cause as much drowsiness was freeing. It made me hope for the future. It made me hope in tomorrow. Maybe after I stop taking the Zyprexa, I'll be able to sleep a normal amount and wake up feeling rested. Maybe I'll be able to control my weight so I don't develop diabetes before I'm 35. Maybe I can be balanced AND healthy! This morning, I received a measure of hope.

And the day got better.

In my religion (institute) class we watched part of a video called The Testaments. It tells the story of a family who witnessed Jesus visiting the Americas after his resurrection. In the story, just before Jesus comes, the father becomes blind. He felt devastated because he spent his whole life waiting for Jesus to come, and now he would never see him. Jesus comes and calls him by name and heals him. I started crying when that happened. I've seen the movie before, but this time it was the simple act of calling him by name that touched my heart. Jesus knows ME. He knows MY struggles. He knows MY pain and the day will come (probably after death), where he will look me in the eyes and say "Beans, be thou whole." And I will be healed from all of my pains and sorrows and afflictions. Today, God restored my hope in my Savior.

So right now, I feel at peace. I haven't felt at peace for weeks, maybe months. I have hope. I hope in the future, I have hope in my Redeemer. I have hope that continuing with this plain of existence is worth it.

If I was still depressed, there's a good chance these things would have been minor blips on my radar, giving me a moment of hope that was quickly washed away in the hopelessness of depression. And if you are depressed and aren't feeling hope, don't beat yourself up! Hope is elusive during depression episodes. Just hang in there. Fill your life with things that bring you hope, so you have enough positive blips that you don't lose hope completely. Remember, you've survived 100% of days so far. You can survive one more. Even if it's the hardest thing you've ever done. And I promise it's worth it.

Thankfully I'm not depressed any more. So this feeling of hope has lasted all day. And I have reason to suppose it'll last me through tomorrow. That's a wonderful feeling.

I'm so grateful for the return of hope.

Attack of the Anxiety Monster

Good news everyone! I'm only mildly depressed right now! I don't know if it's because of medication change, the natural cycle of my moods, or....Frankly, I don't care. I'm just thrilled that I'm functional again.

Until this afternoon when I was attacked by depressions evil cousin: Anxiety!

I've thought about how to write about anxiety. So many people suffer from it and I want to treat their experiences with respect. But the problem is not everyone experiences anxiety the same. Matter of fact, each anxiety attack I have is slightly different. So I don't know how to be fair to everyone's experiences. I can only share with you mine and hope no one feels slighted.

This afternoon we had a family get-together. Normally those are the highlight of my weeks. My brother-in-law and his family and my mother and father-in-law both live in the same city, so we get together most Sundays. My brother-in-law has four little boys who adore me. Well, three of them adore me. The youngest one is still figuring out whether he likes ice cream or not. I can't really expect him to love me if he's not sure he loves ice cream. But I digress.

It was about 3 pm and my nephews were crowding around me when anxiety hit. For absolutely no reason I can fathom I felt overwhelmed by these boys. P, the 4 year old, was climbing on me like he normally does "Can I have a piggy back ride?" and I wanted to push him away because I felt smothered. B. and D., the older two boys were trying to tickle me and I was making a half-hearted attempt to tickle them back, but really I wanted nothing more than to be alone right then. I had 3 boys who love me more than anything who were expecting their normal, happy aunt to be jumping around, tickling them, running around the house giving them piggy back rides and playing whatever they wanted, but I just wanted to be alone and away from people because it was overwhelming my senses. I never feel overwhelmed by these boys. Most of the time, they're my saving grace. When I'm depressed, they give me a glimpsed of joy that I can hold on to, a piece of their childlike innocence that fuels my belief in good. It broke my heart that I didn't want to be by them. But this overload of sensations was hard to ignore. I did my best to still be the great aunt, but there was only so much I could do.

Fast forward. After everyone left, I retreated to my bed and spent some alone time and some time with my husband. I thought I was feeling better. Then I went out to talk to my mother in law (we're temporarily staying at their house). My wonderful mother in law and started talking to me about things and she asked "What can I do for you?" That shouldn't be a bad question, but it brought up all my anxiety and I broke down. I cried. I tried to explain how I felt so I'll share that with you.

It felt like someone placed a weight in my chest that was smothering my heart. That weight was hooked to another weight behind me that I have to drag everywhere. I feel stuck, like I can't move. I can barely breathe. I can't focus...And my emotions are in turmoil.

My mother in law held me while I cried and then she helped me do a simple task to get me moving again.

Anxiety doesn't always feel like that. But a lot of the time for me, it feels like I'm being held back by something I can't control. It's the sense of losing control that is so scary to me. But when I have a bad anxiety attack, control is limited. My emotions are out of control. My body seems out of my control. My thoughts are running wild. It's a crappy situation.

My anxiety has calmed down a lot. I'm not feeling panicky or out of control. But there's a fluttering in my chest that won't go away. .And the weight is still there. Medicine helps. Speaking of which, I'm going to take some. But it's not a cure all. Hopefully a good night sleep will "cure" me of it (for at least a day).

I just wish I could have a day without anxiety OR depression!

Fighting my Stinkin' Thinkin'

Today I feel overwhelmed. Completely overwhelmed. It's a new semester and I'm already considering dropping a class and I'm struggling in the rest. I feel frustrated and am fighting for every last shred of hope I can find. Why? Because I'm depressed again. I had a short reprieve in December, but my dear friend depression is back.

I don't know if school is triggering it, or exacerbating it. Maybe. But what do I do? Quit? That's not my style. Now, if I decided to change majors, that's a different story, but I won't just give up because the going gets rough. I'm only going to change majors if I decide I won't be happy in a career in my chosen field. So for now, I'm hanging on, battling days where getting to class is nigh impossible and where I don't care about anything. I feel like such a failure so many days. I can't do everything I want to do because the chemicals in my brain are wacky. It's life. And when it's like this, it sucks.

I met with my counselor on Monday and we talked about what's going on. She reminded me that only I have the power to combat my "stinkin' thinkin'", or the negative thoughts that depression throws my way. Of course I can't get rid of my depression by willing it gone, but I can help fight it so my days aren't as bad by not allowing negative thoughts to stick around. Yes, that negative thought will just be replaced by another one, but I can throw that one out too. Will I still be depressed? You betcha. But if I can bring my depression down from a 9 to an 8, that's a victory I'm willing to take. 

The biggest "stinkin' thinkin'" I need to fight right now is the all or nothing thinking, especially about my worth. I'm not a success or a failure. I'm a human who lives in a world of grays. Some days I accomplish more than others. On days I'm depressed, I accomplish less because my brain and my body can't handle the depression and the stresses of life as well as I would like. But that doesn't make me a failure. I'm just a human who has to live with a human condition. I can't hold myself to the same standard on days I'm depressed as I can on days I'm feeling well. I can't do it. I'm not worth less because of that. My internal worth is not based on whether I turned in every assignment on time or if I get an A in every class. My internal worth is dependent only on the type of person I am, my heart, and my intentions. 

"Stinkin' Thinkin'" may try to control my life, but I can fight it. That's an empowering thought. I may not be able to get rid of my depression by throwing out those negative thoughts, but I can get stronger, learn to challenge thoughts that enter my mind, and find ways to hope, even when the going gets rough. It may be challenging, but I think fighting my "stinkin' thinkin'" is worth the effort.