Missouri Musings

Before I begin a blogging marathon today, I want to briefly touch on a sensitive topic.  Sensitive to me, because it's not something I am proud of, fond of, or enjoy acknowledging. 

I'm not quiet about the fact that I suffer from anxiety and depression.  I honestly don't give it much thought anymore because I am blessed to have medications that keep it under control.  I pop a pill every night before going to bed and move on with life.  Mental illnesses (ew, I hate that term.  I much prefer just calling it anxiety)  have such a negative stigma in our world, so I think it's important for me to be as open and honest as I can about the issues I struggle with.  My heart breaks for anyone inflicted with these illnesses, so I think it's important for us to speak about them and help each other. 

It took me a LONG time to become "ok" with the fact that I have an anxiety disorder.  I think back to my teenage years and early 20's and can see how anxiety affected me then, but I didn't understand how easily I could control it and begin to feel "normal." 

I've taken zoloft for the past many, many years.  I believe I've taken it regularly for about 7 years now.  Before that I would take it occasionally until I began to feel better and decided I was fine to handle life on my own.  I've learned over time that I need to keep my serotonin levels balanced or I quickly sink.  I literally can see myself beginning to sink into a big, black hole.  There are usually some warning signs for a few days, in which I feel like I'm in a downward spiral to the blackness.  Often I can recognize the signs and pull my way back up, but sometimes I follow the spiral all the way to the bottom and crash. 

There is situational depression and anxiety, which can start me spinning in the tornado, but there are also triggers.  I'm starting to realize some of the triggers that can quickly set me on the path of "screaming on the inside."  Chronic anxiety feels like my life is crumbling around me, but I have to smile and fake my way through the day so my inward screaming doesn't turn into outward screaming.  Chronic depression makes me struggle with my self-worth, feelings of inadequacy and wanting to isolate myself or disappear altogether.  All the trials that are normal in life seem to be unbearable and unhealthy thoughts take over all rational ones.  Panic attacks feel like I'm having a heartache and am going to die.  Seriously.  But I haven't had one of those in quite a while, thank heaven.

Keeping my thoughts and emotions balanced through medication, physical exercise, balanced nutrition, prayer, gospel study and occasional therapy sessions lets me be the person I am supposed to be.  I don't know why I can't feel balanced on my own, and I don't understand why anxiety issues are more common than they've ever been.  But I'm grateful to live in a time when I can get the help I need, and to come from a family that is completely comfortable talking about these issues that affect many of us. 

Stress can be a trigger, although it can be a coping mechanism too.  There's a line I try to balance where I maintain a certain amount of stress and busyness, but don't let it overwhelm me.  I've learned how to say "no" at times in life, although I generally say yes, because I enjoy the busyness of helping others and being happily involved in many activities.  The stress I've dealt with lately has tipped me over the comfortable edge, and then I did something REALLY stupid.  Because I was so busy, I forgot to refill my zoloft prescription before Wednesday when my pills ran out.

Thursday was good.  I went visit teaching, went to lunch with a friend who is experiencing a major life crises, said goodbye to my husband who left on a business trip and doesn't get home until tonight, took Lindsey to soccer practice, watched Logan's soccer game, and helped out with a neighbor's kids.  Friday was still fine.  I felt some anxiety start to creep up, but chalked it up to checking the kids out of school so I could rush the girls to a choir performance, then off to 2 separate parties before throwing a huge baby shower at my house which was attended by about 40 people.  When I went to bed that night, I looked at my empty pill bottle and had my first "uh oh" thought.  Saturday was pretty hard.  I was up early and off to the soccer fields.  I had Christine's four kids all day, since she and Josh were working as tour hosts in the temple.  Between my kids and her kids, there were 8 soccer games to attend.  It was a seriously wild, crazy day with many surprises, some arguing, a broken lamp, and many miles put on the van.  I'm usually completely fine with sudden changes in schedules, but the changes that kept occurring this day seemed too hard to handle.  In the early evening, I took Brynlie, Madelyn and Jillian with me to the Stake Center so they could come on the special temple tour for the Young Women.  I had been pulling strings all week long to be able to sneak them into the session so they could see the bridal room.  By about mid-afternoon, some unhealthy thoughts were beginning to sneak in, and my anxiety levels were rising each minute.  A certain child of mine (which shall remain nameless) was really pushing my buttons this day, so the extra kids at my house had to witness me beginning to crack open.  By the time I picked up some YW from the Cultural Celebration practice and added them to the mix of beautiful girls in my van, I was starting to crumble.  I won't go into details about the rest of the evening, but what was supposed to be a very spiritual event turned out to be an evening of torture for me.  Not only was the Spirit not able to be with me, but the horrible thoughts I was experiencing were making me angry, extremely anxious and deeply depressed.  Here I was in the House of the Lord and I couldn't even bring myself to smile.  The evening seemed to drag on forever, and by the time I was able to get back to my van, I broke apart.  The night was long and by Sunday morning it literally took an act of God to get me out of bed at 10:00 a.m.  By the time I got my kids to church, there was only an hour left.  I took them each to their classes and sat down in my class.  I made it about 15 minutes before the sorrow and anxiety were too much to bear and I had to run out of the room.  I got in my van and sobbed while driving to the pharmacy to refill my prescription.  I stopped by Sonic to get a drink to wash it down with, then returned to the parking lot of the church and fell asleep in the van.  After getting my kids from their classes and trying to look completely invisible in the halls, I quickly drove home and locked myself in my room.  When I woke up a few hours later, I was a new person.

I'm sure glad Ryan didn't have to witness this crash, but I'm sad that my children (and a few of their friends) did.  Now all is well, and I can return to my life of sane emotions and a bit of denial that I am truly a basket-case!