Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 22, 2016

New Series Coming Up. Subject is King David/Psalmist David

I am really excited about this new series I am researching and how I am going to put it together to share with you. I've been doing a lot of studying of King David, recently.













We all remember young David when he brought down the mighty Goliath, right?




Do you remember how David grew and became the most lauded man in his nation?

David was a KING! The highest position in the land. Yet, he was humbled when exiled, an outcast from his on people, from God.

Or so he thought.

We are going to start out with Psalm 42:5,6 learning about why David is so depressed and heartbroken.

David was taken from his home.

Why? Because Saul was hunting him and sent others to hunt David.

David was depressed because exiled from his city, he could no longer worship in the temple. And, during the God-given holidays, the Jewish nation was remembering all that God had done for them, but David could not be there.

So, we will study David's exile. His depression, and the facts that led up to his exile. We all know that David was a man that was of God's heart.  However, David did some things that didn't please God. We will discover what they were and what God did about that.

This is the perfect time of year to study David's actions and God's reactions. This is a time of Thanksgiving. And a time to be grateful. How did David come to be grateful for being an outcast?

We shall find out. Stick around and read more.

Have a Blessed Day!

Wednesday, December 30, 2015

Reflections of the Last Year and Preparing for the New Year

It's been one of those years. You know what I mean, where it seems like one thing after another occurs, and you just can't seem to catch your breath between incidents.

Let's recap 2015, physically and mentally. I started out the year with ECT treatments for medication resistant depression and then a psychiatric hospitalization.

Then, I had a series of low back pain injections, due to a continuing low back problem. I had a major fatigue illness that kept me from doing much of anything, including walking my dog for months. I even had a series of IV infusions that were supposed to help me regain my strength. That did help, after awhile.

I knew I couldn't keep up the rate of work I'd been doing before with running several businesses, giving writing workshops, participating on the Board of Directors for Florida Writers Association, blogging, editing and proofreading others work, and freelance writing. Along with taking classes to become certified to teach journal therapy, I was stretched mentally and physically. This could have led to the energy collapse.

So, I chose to concentrate on getting myself well. I resigned from the FWA board of directors, closed my businesses, and stopped freelance writing. I stopped taking journal therapy classes and the weight of it all felt great. I knew my priorities had changed and I now wanted to not only concentrate on getting myself well, but helping others in a more one on one capacity with their writing and with opening up about mental issues. I wanted and did become an advocate for Mental Health.

I even wrote a book titled, "Writing Heals" that gives others an opportunity to discover traumatic issues that had been holding them back, learning to accept them, cope with them, and using writing to overcome them and live a life of joy.

This gave me the strength I needed to schedule my yearly trip to see my kids and grandkids, without fear of flying or travel, or leaving my home. I'd become my own version of my book.

I did have a wonderful time visiting my kids and grandkids in Arizona. My husband even went, giving us some wonderful quality time with everyone.

Then, coming back, I got the news from my Optometrist that I needed immediate Cataract surgery, after a year's determination that my eyes had deteriorated to the point that corrective lenses were no longer available. Going through Cataract surgery for both eyes and then discovering that the healing process brought on Posterior Capsulotomy (a film grew over my new lenses, causing a cloudy view, blurring, halos, etc.) The eye surgeon, Dr. Newsom, said that it sometimes occurs in "younger" patients, when they heal too quickly. So, I then had to have 2 more procedures on my eyes,  to remove that issue.

In the mean time, I was having major GI issues, that ended up with me in the ER, then admitted into the hospital for a series of tests that resulted in a diagnosis of Colitis and Diverticulitis. The Colitis continues to flare up and is not under control yet. While I went through that, I had a black out while walking on the sidewalk behind my husband, that resulted in another trip to the ER to discover that there wasn't anything apparent to cause the blackout but resulted in various bumps, bruises, a chipped tooth, sprained wrist, and broken elbow.

Yay.

And, the year wasn't over yet. I couldn't keep the incidents straight, they were happening so fast. The next thing I know, I'm in the ER again, with muscle spasms in my low back, so severe I couldn't walk, stand, sit, nothing. The pain was so severe, I called my neighbor to take me to the hospital, where after seven hours they sent me home with medication for muscle spasms and pain and an order for a week of bed rest. This meant I was in bed through the week before and during Christmas. I couldn't even decorate for Christmas, which actually ended up as a good thing, which I'll describe below.

Some of the good things that resulted were helping my husband fulfill his life long dream of getting a pilot's license. He'd been a remote control airplane and helicopter enthusiast his entire life. He'd longed to actually fly airplanes, eventually flying helicopters. So, I decided to help my husband by putting all our efforts toward this goal, including giving up a lot of of our free time with him.

One of the best things that happened was in June, when I opened up to my husband, myself, and my doctors about a 50 year old secret that I'd been keeping. I had an eating disorder. A binge eating disorder. I started seeing a new therapist who brought old insecurities and past traumas to light that helped me understand that by keeping the secret I was actually harming myself more. By, facing it, facing old life traumas, and understanding guilt ridden ideologies, I actually found myself letting go of past control issues and taking charge of my life choices, I finally understood that no one had control of my food issues. Only I could make the choices that resulted in a new pattern of lifestyle thoughts and choices that made me feel better about myself and let go of the guilt I had for so long.

I was able to apply my faith and love of God and His word to help me get through. I was able to let go of the obsessive control I had let others have and discover that I could leave the stigma of weight and food to others and not let them affect me.

I now have a more positive attitude toward food, myself, health and now have an even healthier relationship with nutrition and my body.

I now know that weight loss does not equal healthy eating or recovering from Binge Eating Disorder, and being thin does not equal happiness or health.

I am taking it one day at a time.

Best of all, I've learned better coping skills for Bipolar Disorder, Social Anxiety, General Anxiety, OCD, and PTSD. Skills that don't require psychotropic medications. My psychiatrist was in full support and helped me drop one medication after another.

Because of this, I've found that after eighteen years in the same house, where at one time I was so agoraphobic I couldn't leave my own home, I'm ready to move onto a new path in my life. A life that surrounds my husband's desire to fly and live in a community further away from the city and has its own airport. So, we are. We are moving to a community with its own airport and each house has its own hanger for an airplane.

I'm not even freaking out about it. I think the move will be a wonderful way to start 2016.

Although, when my husband and I thought about moving from our current home, we thought we'd be downsizing and thinning out our possessions. This new home is bigger than the one we have, it's on more land, and if you add the hanger space, three car garage space, and home space, it's more than three times of living space than we have now.

So, that's been my life this past year. Good and bad. Each event led me to a revelation about myself and my life's priorities.

And, my first commitment to myself is to give myself permission to change the direction of the memoir I'd struggled to write for the past year or so, and write with a passion for helping others. That makes me very happy.

I'm also going to make a commitment to increase my physical activity, as the community we are moving to gives Jack (my American Eskimo dog) and me more areas to walk, without getting near a major road.

I'll continue my therapy work on Binge Eating Disorder, reinforcing new techniques to help me be more mindful of my eating habits and choices.

And, I'll work with other writers, giving them of my time and knowledge, to help them become the best writer they can be and help them achieve their writing goals.

I have a wedding to look forward to, as my son is getting married to the love of his life and that could mean more grandchildren on the horizon. (yay!)

Finally, I'll continue my work learning as much as I can about the Bible and Christian History so that I can not only answer my questions, but give me a further perspective about my relationship with God.

The best thing is, with my progress with Bipolar Disorder and other mental issues, I am going to help as a Mental Health Advocate by reducing stigma and increasing knowledge for those who want to learn.

That's it. That's been my 2015 life, and my feelings about my future for 2016. Am I going to make a resolution? Doubtful. I don't think they are necessary and I'd rather work on improving myself physically, emotionally, mentally, and personally with positive affirmations, thoughts, and actions.

I hope that you had an enlightened 2015 and that you can look forward to 2016 without making unnecessary or unachievable resolutions.

Be kind to yourself and to others. Follow Jesus' commandments to love God and one another.

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable -- if anything is excellent or praiseworthy -- think about such things. -- Philippians 4:8

Turn your thoughts to positive things, as urged by Paul. Make a conscious effort to think gentler, more noble thoughts. Replace all of your bad thoughts with kinder, love-filled thoughts, reducing stress and increasing your peace. Before long, you'll re-train your brain to naturally turn to truth, purity and excellence.

Happy New Year!

Vicki

P.S. I hope you are enjoying my series on Mental Health. If you have any suggestions for a topic, please let me know.



Wednesday, December 24, 2014

Holiday Break

It's been a crazy year. I started a business, WRITECOVERY, INC. Another took off like gangbusters, FIVERR and SUCCEED AT WRITING and I suddenly became a popular speaker a writers' groups and conferences.  This coming year is no different, and we haven't even started it yet. I'm scheduled for a journaling panel, and two speaking engagements before the winter is officially over.

All of which pales in comparison to the myriad of personal issues I've faced this year. The least of which I'm going through right now. ECT treatments.  Towards the end of this year I had a serious bout of depression triggered by events out of my control. These events caused a "perfect storm" of depressive symptoms that triggered a depressive episode so bad that I required ECT treatments. I had ECT treatments back in Spring 2013.  I wrote about them again later.

I hope you take the time to review my old blogs about ECT. There is a lot of helpful information.

So far, I'm only scheduled through the end of the year. I don't know what will happen after that. I don't know if I'll continue with treatments or be released. It's just a matter of whether or not the doctor thinks I'm making progress.

I do know I'll be stronger and healthier, because I'm taking care of myself.

I have a lot of close friends who are helping me do just that as well.

Right now, the motto is "one day at a time."

I wish you a very blessed and merry Christmas and splendid New Year.

Hugs,
Vicki

Choose JOY!

Thursday, May 02, 2013

Birthday Tribute to my Husband

I want to use this forum to send birthday wishes to my husband, Greg. He's been my partner for over fifteen years. We were together two years before we married, giving us nearly eighteen years together so far.

Eighteen wonderful years. I wish for all your birthday wishes to come true and for you to enjoy every one. I love you so much. You are my rock. My partner. My love. My life.

Without you in my life, I would be truly lost. You are my safest port in any storm.

Married couples have their ups and downs throughout their married life. We have the added drama of my Bipolar Disorder. You are always there for me, no matter if I'm suffering from depression or mania. You always know exactly what to say or do to help me. You are truly my perfect companion. You know me better than I know myself at times.

I depend on you. I lean on you. I need you to take care of me. Without you, I would have succumbed to madness long ago. You are a steady influence over me.

I know I can go to you for comfort, safety, protection, and sanity. You always know exactly what to say to bring me out of a foul mood or comfort me when I'm depressed.

You keep me walking the right path and help me when I lose my way. You are the candle in my dreariest darkness.

I am truly, madly, and deeply in love with you.

We've grown close, you and I. Closer than I could ever imagine two people could be, married or not. You know me so well. You know my moods even before I recognize them myself. You protect me, even from me, which is why I love you so much.

If it's in your power, you give me whatever my heart desires. I adore you for that. And, all I want to do for the rest of my life is to make you happy.

You are the perfect compliment to me. My other half. My better half.

You love my children. You love our grandchildren. And, they love you. Life is about balance, and you ensure our life is balanced with fun and seriousness. When I'm sad, you balance me with your happiness.

You are my Love. My Best Friend. My Life.

I am always safe with you, my protector.  You are my hero. I am your biggest fan.

Happy Birthday, my dearest love. I want to grow old with you. My favorite place in all the world is next to you.

Always and Forever Yours,




Friday, April 19, 2013

Five Minute Friday - Beloved


It's time for the "Five Minute Friday" blogging post. The inspiration comes from Lisa Jo Baker


What you do is set your timer for five minutes and write whatever you want according to the prompt Lisa places on her blog every Friday. Then you go back, link your blog and give support to those who posted before you. And, we connect on Twitter with #FiveMinuteFriday.

Ready.
Set.
Go.



"Beloved"

He's been in my life for nearly eighteen years. We've been married for over fifteen. He's my love. My beloved. My truly other half. My husband. He loves me so much it scares me sometimes the depth of his love. There are days when I feel I don't deserve his love. There are days when I can only subsist on his love. He's been with me and supported me through so many rough times. Through the various hospitalizations for Bipolar Disorder. Through all the treatments that worked and didn't work. Through my mania episodes and depression episodes. He's been my constant. My rock. My love. I'm not sure if I can ever describe to him or explain to him how much he means to me. Not to the depth of my emotions. There's just too much there that can't be explained. I adore him. I need him. I can't exist without him. Life surely wouldn't be worth living without him. 

Stop.






Friday, March 15, 2013

Five Minute Friday - Rest


It's time for the "Five Minute Friday" blogging post. The inspiration comes from Lisa Jo Baker


What you do is set your timer for five minutes and write whatever you want according to the prompt Lisa places on her blog every Friday. Then you go back, link your blog and give support to those who posted before you. And, we connect on Twitter with #FiveMinuteFriday.

Ready.
Set.
Go.

Rest. A four-letter word that means so much to so many different people. I can rest from work now. I can rest from taking care of the kids. I can rest from cleaning the house. I can rest.

With someone with Bipolar Disorder, the rest doesn't come as easy. Especially when you are in a depressive cycle like I am right now. Rest is but a fleeting memory of long ago wishes. Rest means attempting to center myself from a raging beast inside of me. Rest means attempting to calm the beast while I read a "not so stimulating" book, or watch a "not so stimulating" movie to give the beast distraction. Rest means following my action plan. Watching for symptoms. Avoiding triggers.

This isn't my first attempt at soothing this particular amusement park ride. I've lived with Bipolar Disorder for a long time. A very long time. I've had depressive episodes that have lasted only a week and have lasted for over three years. The hard part is never knowing when or how they're going to rear their ugly head.

So, I rest. And enjoy the peacefulness of sanity and stability until it's time to rest no more. Until it's time tame the beast of depression.

Stop.


Click on the Five Minute Friday logo below and see what others have written for their prompt. Have a great day.

Five Minute Friday


Friday, March 01, 2013

Five Minute Friday - Ordinary



It's time for the "Five Minute Friday" blogging post. The inspiration comes from Lisa Jo Baker


What you do is set your timer for five minutes and write whatever you want according to the prompt Lisa places on her blog every Friday. Then you go back, link your blog and give support to those who posted before you. And, we connect on Twitter with #FiveMinuteFriday.

Ready.
Set.
Go.

Ordinary

Holy Bible image
God's word lives within me
I used to think I was ordinary. Just a student. Just a mom. Just a writer. Just a grandma. Just a Christian. But, after going to Bible Class and learning about Living Stone faith, I no longer consider myself "ordinary". I am Extraordinary! I am loved by God. Jesus sacrificed His life for me. How amazing is that?

I'll never think of myself as "ordinary" again. Not when I walk with Jesus every day. Sharing my triumphs, my defeats, my troubles and my blessings. God is good. God is great. God made me extra"ordinary" in every way.

Sharing this with you is important to me. I didn't feel extraordinary so long ago. I fell into a deep depression, one so dark, I attempted suicide. God was there. He pulled me out. He saved me. And, now, I believe in Him with all my heart. He showed me the right path to follow. He actually put me in a position to see the sign for my neighborhood bible class. It was then and there I made the decision to walk in and join. God did that.

I am forever extra"ordinary" in every way. In God's way. I follow His path, His plan. He is writing a new story with me for me. My words are His words.

Stop.



Click on the Five Minute Friday logo below and see what others have written for their prompt. Have a great day.

Five Minute Friday


Wednesday, February 13, 2013

A Tortured Writer's Soul - My Path to becoming an Author


Stress has a way of creeping up and scaring the crap out of you when you least expect it.
Life had been good.

At least I thought so.

I was at the top of my career as a Documentation Manager/Technical Writer for a company that created computer programs that spoke for visually impaired users. I looked great. I felt great, even though I was closing in on forty. My fiancé and I married and we bought a house, although it needed some remodeling work.

That was the up side.

 The down side? My teenage daughter. My middle child. What a handful. Running away. Skipping school. You name it. On top of her issues, there were countless arguments and conflict with my ex husband and his then wife over the best way to handle my daughter’s behavior.

Lots of stress.

The pain came on suddenly; the other signs already significant. Rapid pulse. My chest hurt. Face reddened, flushed. Inability to concentrate.

‘Heart attack’ my mind screamed.

‘Get to the doctor’ I told myself. 

Ignoring offers for help and rides to the emergency room, I rushed from work and crossed the long and busy Howard Frankland Bridge from St. Petersburg, Florida to Tampa. All the while focused only on praying that I get to the doctor before I collapsed. In those moments of fear, my only goal was to reach my doctor, for in my mind, only he could help me because he knew my medical and personal history.

The crisis passed. What I thought was a heart attack turned out to be a Thyroid Storm determined only after months of a multitude of tests and examinations. My life as I knew it would never be the same again.

The diagnosis: Grave’s Disease. A thyroid disorder.

The treatment: medication and rest.

Weaker than a newborn kitten, on bed rest, and barely able to shuffle from bed to bathroom without exhausting myself, my life came to a screeching halt.

No deadlines.
No home repair issues.
No programs to document.
No arguments.
No stress.
Nothing mattered.

Only my heart, as it jumped to a rapid, irregular beat in my chest; the pain that accompanied it a constant reminder that I held on to my life by a delicate thread. The profound impact of my disease seeping into my consciousness; my mind trying to wrap itself around the immenseness of its affect.

My fragile life.


I grew protective of its vulnerability. Hyper aware of my own mortality, I examined my existence to that point in my life and found myself questioning my actions, motives, decision. All went under the microscope.

I could no longer bring myself to ride my motorcycle. The sheer danger overcoming my desire for adventure. I bid a reluctant goodbye to my beautiful red speed machine.



Once an avid inline skater, always willing to throw on a pair of roller blades and skate for miles, just the thought of skating exhausted me and made my heart race. I could no longer push my body so hard. My heart couldn’t take the physical stress.

I feared being alone.


What would happen if I had another episode?

In and out of the hospital emergency rooms with panic attacks, I struggled to get a grasp on what was happening to me. How my personal and social boundaries shrank to the physical limits of my bedroom. My safe haven. My very existence wrapped up in those four walls.

With months of recovery, I grew stronger, while my mind struggled to understand why I no longer could bring myself to leave my home for a job I used to love. I tried. I lasted half a day. I needed to be back home. My safe haven.

A new idea germinated in my mind. I could work as a technical writing consultant. My own company. I’d work from home. The idea took root. I found clients willing to work within my schedule and I soon found myself in great demand as a technical writer. Forty flew in and I rejoiced. The good life reigned.

Then it happened again.


This time the pain forced me to the emergency room. CAT scans revealed tumors on my ovaries.

‘Cancer’ my mind whispered with anxious trepidation.

The hospital staff kept their opinions to themselves, but I could see the sympathy in their faces as they attended to my medical needs. Was I to be another statistic? I prayed for a chance. A chance to live a life I hadn’t finished with yet. For a chance to see grandchildren not yet conceived.

For any chance.

Opportunity knocked. No cancer. Only surgery to remove the diseased ovaries. Menopause dropped into my life full on with its hot flashes, mood swings, and weight gain. I grew old before my time. I stopped coloring my hair and let the gray grow through. I embraced this new transformation of my life and what new changes it would bring for me personally.

Then a new thought snuck in and whispered ‘life is short, you’re running out of time.’

What hadn’t I completed yet in my life? What else did I still want to do before I grew too old to accomplish it? A new idea, an old dream, surfaced from far below my subconscious. I loved to write. I wanted to keep writing. But, my writing dreams turned to fiction. My dream of always becoming an author closed in. "If not now, When" was no longer my slogan. Now. Now. Now.

With a renewed reflection on my life, I sought to fulfill dreams once deemed by others as too unstable and not appropriate.


Novels.


I wanted to write fiction. A dream I gave up on when I graduated high school and joined the U.S. Marines instead of attending business school as my family planned.

Stability no longer a problem, our financial situation accessed, my husband and I worked out a plan for me to steadily complete projects and drop clients until I could write fiction full time.

My heart soared. 

Naïve and inexperienced in the writing and publishing business I sought out other writers. I joined electronic mail groups and Internet forums, communicating with other people of various levels of knowledge and talent. I learned quickly and found others who had similar dreams to mine. We wanted to organize a group of writers where we could share information about writing and publishing. A new organization was formed. Florida Writers Association. Glenda Ivey, myself and five other women became the founding members of a group of writers helping writers.

The group grew quickly. Word spread about our accomplishment. I poured myself into the development of the organization and put my writing second to the success of FWA. Within a few years, FWA became its own entity. A life onto itself. Self-sufficient, the group no longer needed my continual support. An organization now strong with over a thousand members.

Once again, my dream of writing novels pushed its way to the forefront of my life. This time there was nothing to get in my way. It became NOW again.

Or so I thought.

I started down a new path toward an uncertain future.


I wrote Not Without Anna and began a new novel, Trust in the Wind.  In the meantime, ideas flowed faster than I could write them down. I filled several four inch binders with newspaper clippings, scraps of paper, and the beginnings of stories. Short stories poured from my fingers like flowers bursting forth in springtime. Catch of the Season was born. Eager to come into the world, March Madness soon followed. Ideas tumbled from my mind at all hours of the day and night. More short stories trailed along. Each bloomed from the fruits of my writing fervor. 

Writing became my passion. And my passion soon consumed me. Once again, life was good. With my Grave’s Disease in remission, my energy burned brightly.  

Then blackness submerged my life.

Depression.


Bleak and without hope, I found myself in unfamiliar territory. My fruitful blooms dried up and withered away. I struggled to find words to complete sentences to complete stories that no longer held any meaning for me. I foundered without direction. I no longer slept. Dangerous thoughts invaded my psyche. My once fragile life became an indirect target for my dark musings. Scared and uncertain, I begged my doctor to help me. The diagnosis: Bipolar I. Undiagnosed for most of my life, I had a name for what tortured me my entire life.

Once again, my life was turned upside down by an illness. This time, it was one I wasn’t sure I could handle as well as the others. I burrowed deeper into my safe haven - my home. I ate to appease my anxiety. I ate to satisfy my emotional needs. I ate. My weight ballooned.

No longer able to write, I sunk deeper into the blackness while I spent hours researching everything I could find on Bipolar Disorder. I joined online therapy groups. I read books. I asked questions. All the while, my body rejecting various medications the doctor prescribed to stabilize my illness. It took more than a year to find the right combination of drugs that helped. All the while my soul suffered. My passion lay dead. I could not write.

Finally, a pinprick of light in the far off distance. Was there a chance for me and my writing after all?
Two years into my illness, I found the courage to start writing again. Slowly at first. Nothing more than a few sentences. Random thoughts written in my journal.

I also found the strength to face the fact that I weighed too much. I started walking with my dog. Every day. My life brightened. I could leave the house for a few moments every day and the world didn’t end. 

Hope flickered.


I crawled my way through my binders full of ideas, looking for a connection. A spark. A long dried up seed of an idea that with tender treatment would bloom once again. 

I found it. A story born from a vivid dream I’d written down long ago, stepped forward, willing to be the first. Tentatively, hope flickered. The flame grew more.

My writing technique changed. No longer struck by inspiration and writing until my back and fingers were numb, I scheduled writing time with myself. I started small. A page. Two hundred and fifty words. Then five hundred. I worked my way up to two thousand words a day. I kept the pace steady. I was writing again.

That spark was now a brilliant fire. It wasn’t so far away anymore. A slow, low-key birth, Out for Justice joined my collection of beautiful blooms.

My weight dropped slowly. As each passing year added another number to my age, more weight fell. Little by little, pound by pound. I grew proud of my appearance, coloring and cutting my hair. 

My struggle with Bipolar and Depression constantly draws energy from my soul. I’m able to function again with minimal adjustments to my medication and minor cycles of mania and depression.

Although, not without sacrifices.

Gone is the burning obsession that spilled idea after idea. The all consuming fire now more like a bed of coals needing constant attending in fear the fire might go out.

I’m grateful for the binders of story ideas I’d gathered. They’ll feed my writing garden for longer than I could dream possible. My pace has slowed. My words more deliberate. But, the passion still burns in my heart. Best of all, I’m fulfilling my dream. I’m writing novels.


So, now there is everything you could possibly want to know about me and more, any questions?