Hope

I have to admit that I've never been a fan of Star Wars. I've seen a few but don't remember much other than the classic fight scenes and other random Sci-Fi material in between. When I heard of the death of Carrie Fisher the other day I was saddened that we lost yet another icon this year, but it wasn't until I saw the 'Scary Mommy' article that I realized what a hero we lost. In "Carrie Fisher’s Mental Health Advocacy Shines In The Wake Of Her Death", (http://www.scarymommy.com/carrie-fishers-mental-health-advocacy-shines-in-the-wake-of-her-death/ ) I found a glimmer of hope that I haven't seen for awhile.

I have depression. I have severe anxiety. And this year has sucked.

I am currently trying to find a light in my 'episode' of anxiety and depression that has been worsening for over a year. I have kept my mental health hidden for decades due to the stigma attached to mental illness. I have shamed myself and made myself feel like less of a person because of my illness and even though I can control it most of the time, sometimes it does control me... and it's scary as hell.

I have been on anti-depressants of some sort since my teenage years. I have had good years and bad ones, and most defiantly have a love/hate relationship with medications but as I read in the article "Without medication I would not be able to function in this world. Medication has made me a good mother, a good friend, a good daughter”. As I am currently transitioning from Cymbalta to Trintillex I have mostly bad days. Transitioning off of an depressant is hard. It can be a time when your mind and your body seems to be trying to convince yourself that it won't get better, that life is always going to be impossible... but it can and will get better. I know it will,  I've been here before and I'm still alive.

In writing this I am telling myself as well as anyone else reading this who is dealing with mental illness that it (life) will be ok. Even though it seems really bad right now, things will get better. Medications, even though trial and error, will eventually work. Mindfullness, meditation, and yoga will help. The absolute undying love that I have for my family can sometimes be hard to see and feel when depression and anxiety have a hold on me, but the love will always be there.

There is hope. I will survive this. And to anyone reading who needs this- you will survive too.

“At times, being bipolar can be an all-consuming challenge, requiring a lot of stamina and even more courage, so if you’re living with this illness and functioning at all, it’s something to be proud of, not ashamed of. They should issue medals along with the steady stream of medication.” Carrie Fisher Wishful Drinking, 2008

I choose Love.

I have to admit that it almost feels like I'm getting over a broken heart. I know that most people are 'over it' and have moved on since the election, but I haven't. I feel like hate won on November 8th. As an empath I feel it all. I feel the hate, tension, fear and terror that has been running through the arteries of our nation and I have been in a really bad state, both mentally and physically for the past few weeks. Although I knew I was depressed after the results came out that Wednesday morning I am just now realizing that I have truly been experiencing what I can only assume is a broken heart. My heart is broken for humanity and the people of our nation. My thoughts go way beyond that of a political party but to the roots of why people voted the way they did. To allow a being who embodies hate beyond anything we've seen for generations...well, that is beyond me. I have been struggling with the thoughts of the future not only over the next few years, but more for that of my children. What kind of reality will be theirs when they are my age? So many thoughts and fears have run rampant in my mind that I almost became paralyzed by them. This morning I came to the realization that the only thing I can do, the only thing I have control over is that I have to choose lover over hate and fear. I cannot continue to struggle with my daily activities because of worry about the next few years and what will become of the country that I was born in. I take solace in the fact that there are so many people outraged by the election results and the fact that over 2 million more people didn't choose hate.

I have to actively work everyday on making sure that my thoughts and actions work toward spreading love and acceptance rather than let myself feel helpless and depressed. I want my kids to know that the answer is love. Bullying and demeaning anyone is not ok. Making others feel bad to make yourself feel better is not acceptable. Hate will not win. Love will always trump hate.

The healing power of Place.

It was 3 years ago this February that Jake, Owen, and I made a drive down to Moab. My mind needed clarity and my soul needed comfort. We had been been faced with the grim prognosis of the pregnancy since Christmas and I was still trying to wrap my head around the possibility of losing my baby. Every. Single. Day. We had made a trip to the California coast in January in an effort to escape this reality and find some comfort and although it was nice, my soul was still in despair. I could not face having no control of the possible loss of this unborn being. I needed to find some peace. The red rock and solitude that can be found in Moab has always been amazing to me but this trip it felt as if each step I took through the cold red sand helped me to find the strength I needed to face the next day, and the next, never knowing if it would be the last living day for our baby girl.

Moab, Feb 2013

Moab, Feb 2013

We had been told at the 20 week ultrasound that the prognosis of a baby this far behind in growth and with a condition called 'echogenic bowel' were very grim. We got a second opinion. An amniocentesis. A FISH test. Serial ultrasounds. A third opinion. Genetic counseling. A family planning consult (which ended up being a pregnancy termination consultation). More consults. More ultrasounds. All with the underlying assumption that this pregnancy would not likely be successful. That at any point the pregnancy may cease and my delivery would be that of a stillborn. I bought a special blanket that I would use for her delivery if that were the case. We prepared ourselves mentally for the worst.

The days, weeks, and months remaining in my pregnancy after our time in Moab were still hard, but I felt at peace. I felt like I was doing everything I knew to give our girl a fighting chance and that I would be okay with whatever outcome prevailed.

In April of 2013 the best possible outcome happened. Claire was born and not only survived, but also fought and thrived from day 1. Fast forward three years and despite the trials we have all been through, she is still fighting and still thriving...but I've always had a nagging feeling of fear. Fear of the unknowns, worry that she has done so good thus far but something bad will happen and fate will rip her away from us, or that something will happen with Owen and that our family will face another life changing trial. It sounds paranoid, and maybe it is but when you've been through the emotional rollercoaster that we have over the past few years most days you feel like you're waiting for the good to end.

Owen at Fishers Towers,
Moab Feb 2013

But here we all are. Three years later and we are all here, we are all good and I love seeing that we are all thriving. I have to remember to take each day as a gift and know that tomorrow isn't guaranteed. Regardless of what happens to us in the future we have today. The cool red sand of Moab in February, the clear blue skies, and each other.

Owen and Claire at Fishers Towers,
Moab Feb 2016

Just the 4 of us, Moab 2016

Claire Bear in Moab, Feb 2016