Anxiety and Depression. My Story, My Finest Hour.

My story today begins with this video.  





This video moved me.  So much so that I thought I have to blog again after months of silence.  I must add my voice here.

I tend to be a strangely positive person.  That is to say I feel like I am, in general, a realist, or a negative person; but for some strange reason I am positive (foolishly so) when it comes to people and human nature.   My descent into deep depression happened gradually.  One trauma on top of another added to traumatic childhood events and a life full of commitments and stresses became too much for me to bear any longer.  Having to be too strong for too long was definitely the case.  I held on as long as I could, but in the end depression won.  It wasn't pretty.  

"We did not ask for this, but together we can fight this"  
                                                 ~Faris Khalifa

Being a reader, I searched high and low for answers to 'solve' this new dilemma.  How do I get back to being 'right' again.  Being 'me' again?  In the process I found information.  I found people who struggle as I do- lots of them.  And I joined a few groups to help support me in my new way of being. Trying to find new ways of coping with my present reality.  

 A lot of what I find online these days talks about stigma.  The stigma of mental illness.  Here's where the strange positivity comes in.  Stigma?  What stigma?  I often thought.  See I like to give people the benefit of the doubt.  

Over this past few weeks I've been interacting with people more.  People who don't know me and my challenges.  Some strangers, some new found friends.  And I've discovered that yes, stigma still exists.  I guess it's always been my sincere hope that people will try to understand others, even if they be strangers.   Try to understand that even though they cannot possibly 'understand' everyone's behaviors and motivations that they too would recognize that most of us are really just trying to do the best we can. 

Then I saw this video.  

The courage of this man astounds me.  Putting himself out there in such a vulnerable way to try to help.  To try to stop the stigma.  I realized I had to add my voice.

This video was painful for me to watch.  I know where he's coming from.  I know that dark place all too well,

"This is not for me....  But for those not as fortunate.   Those who feel like they don't have a voice."
                                                                         ~Faris Khalifa

Lately I've heard opinions expressed about people with mental illness that at first I was tempted to accept.  "After all the one expressing it is a doctor", I thought.   But something wasn't sitting well with me.  I heard things such as "People need an identity, they NEED to be special in some way".  "They wear these diagnoses like a badge".  and "I think what's behind depression is self-pity."

Over the past week I've had some very rough moments.  Moments I thought I might not make it through.  Moments I realized that yes I am much better now than I was- my current holistic treatments are working wonders,  But maybe I will have moments such as these for the rest of my life.  Moments that are too dark to describe.  Moments I think I wont survive, I don't want to survive.  And in those moments it broke my heart to think about what others had said about people with mental illnesses.   Stigma is still alive and well, even among health care professionals.  And this is why I have chosen now to speak up.

 I was diagnosed with a Major Depressive Disorder, PTSD, PMDD (Pre-menstrual Dismorphic Disorder), Body Dismorphic Disorder, Adult ADD and have general Anxiety as well. I have been medicated for all of the above and am still on some meds to this day.   It is not a fact I go around sharing- even though at times it does seriously color my outlook and my life.  And at times I do wish people knew because I feel their confusion at my behavior.  It is not something I am proud of, or would choose to have to deal with.  Honestly it sucks!  And at times sucks the life right out of me.  I am able to appear ok in most circumstances.  And my whole life I have been able to hide my true feelings well.  But it is my diagnosis and something I have to consider everyday.  

The thing about opinions is everyone has one.  And that's ok.  But opinions are just that.  Opinions.  We all have our own based on our perceptions, and our experiences.  Perceptions  are that way as well;  no two people perceive things the same.  We each have our own reality and outlook.  The more I thought of those opinions expressed earlier in the week, the more upset I got.  I wondered what were their opinions based on?  Have they ever had the experience of being abused, physically, verbally or sexually?   Have they ever been in war?  Have they experienced neglect, trauma or broken homes?  Have they had the misfortune of  being homeless?  Or a combination of these things as many people have?   And how can they, having not experienced the full range of things one can experience in this life, make these statements about Depression, Bi-polar,  Anxiety or any disorder or dis-ease really?  In my opinion it is the height of arrogance to make judgements based on what we ourselves, personally know.  We have not experienced what others might have.  We each have our own journey. 

And here's something else to consider.  Why is it that these illnesses seem to be rampant?  What is going on in our society, in our world that has made life so hard to bear for some of us?  Isn't that a better question?  What can we do to help?  

This Stigma is unwarranted.  These mental health issues come from somewhere.  No one chooses them.  No one wants to be 'special' like that!  What about other expressions of disease?  Do we stigmatize cancer patients, or people with heart conditions?  If someone is on Blood pressure meds do we theorize that they wanted this outcome?  That they go around wearing their  diagnoses of Lupus, or Thyroid problems like a badge?  To garner sympathy?  We don't. 

 That would be cruel.  

Me, Myself and I

It's been an especially busy summer here, and the studio has not seen much action lately.  I have had some good feedback on the items in my Etsy shop and some possible interesting things for the future happening.

I wrote a little

This past weekend was the first ever mobile Geenies Lamp Studio.  Well, kinda.  I took some much needed time and camped overnight by myself for the first time.  I did have this intention when I first decided to get a Vintage Trailer, that I could use her for my personal art studio at the beach, or wherever.  However we've had so much fun family camping that I have not had the time or the guts I guess to get her out on my own.  I finally did.   

It was the first time I've ever willingly spent any time alone.  I took some books, some art supplies (a lot of art supplies) and my meals and found some peace and quiet.  Peace and quiet are generally unattainable at home, there are just too many little people and pets.


It was good to get out in the fresh air and just sit.  I love to just sit and stare at trees and all the animals that come out when one is still.  I did not move to get any pictures of them, though I wanted to.   I was enjoying them so much I didn't want to frighten them off.

 These shots were taken from the dinette in the Pearl.  The view from my front window.

The campground was virtually empty, so it felt like I was truly alone.  Of course anyone who walked by complimented the Pearl, but other than that I really didn't see anyone.    And I preferred  it that way.  Just to sit in stillness, and quiet and enjoy the breeze.  The scents and sounds of the woods.  It was exactly what the doctor ordered.  I am convinced that living here in a big city I am severely  nature deprived.

Here is a short pictorial recap of all I did...

I burned candles

Drank coffee 

Did a little walking around

 In the morning I was able to cook my breakfast.  A fresh egg, bacon and some coffee and sit and enjoy my lovely meal in peace in The Pearl with that gorgeous view out my front window.

I did get a bit of drawing and  painting in, but didn't take any pics.  It was a lovely time just being with myself and thinking about life.  

You Are Not Alone

Quack, quack, quack, quack!  This is what I hear as I sit here contemplating what to post today.  So much going on in the last week or so.  The ducks have grown into their 'quack' now, which I find a lot more pleasant than the loud peeping they did before.  The chicks are almost chickens now, with the exception of Brownie who is just small still.  I didn't mention this in my last post, but I believe Brownie was younger than the others when we got her, and she is the one who has not grown much yet.  She still needs lots of warmth.   We have taken to putting the chickens out with the ducks every day and as I mentioned they all stick together.  What I didn't tell you is how they all huddle around Brownie when she needs warmth.  They protect her, and watch after her.  They have since the beginning.  It's like they instinctively know she needs warmth, and they surround her.  

This is how they sleep.  Surrounding Brownie.

Last year I started Art Journaling.  I found it very healing to do this daily.  It also served as a proving ground for new techniques.  These last few months I have not had the inclination to art journal either.  So I carried it around with me daily, and hoped the muse would visit once again.  But nothing.  Over the last couple of weeks; possibly because I once again feel in need of comfort and healing; I have started art journaling again daily.  Sometimes more than once a day.  And with all the things going on in my head lately- sometimes even in the middle of the night.  I still write in my traditional journal.  I actually do a lot of writing as I find that a source of healing as well, but when I distill my days, or my thoughts, my state of mind into a picture, a thing of beauty that I can look back on and remember, it is very satisfying.  And honestly beauty, color, and sparkles make me happy.  

It's hard to see the sparkles here, but they are there.
Bad lighting, sorry.

My kids tease me, as I am very much like my Gramsy in that I love anything sparkly or cute.  "Oooh Shiny" they often say as I am distracted from whatever task by something.  It's their way of reminding me to focus.  I struggle with that.  I would much rather be in a dreamland than focus on the facts, which is interesting since I have always thought myself a realist, and I love the truth.  Sometimes I find things just too frightening, or too big to contemplate  in the moment, so I am easily distracted.  Especially by shiny things.  Just like my Gramsy.  My sister and I once cleaned her dresser for her.  There must have been hundreds of teeny little boxes of jewelry and little sparkly things.  Bought and placed neatly in her drawer, or jewelry box, but probably never worn.  

This is where my head has been.   I have come out of solitary, and am finding ways to focus on what I need to  focus on to find some peace.  It is not an easy thing.  The truth sometimes is not.  But I know it's what I need and that it will get easier.  Remembering to create something beautiful everyday, even if it's just beautiful to me, helps.  Words  help.  Another post on that later.  Here are some images from my art journal lately. 

 I have to keep reminding myself that I am not alone.  My many peeps remind me of that visually, and daily.  This is my reminder to you.  You are not alone. 

My peeps