Holidays and depression

So Christmas is behind us and the New Year approaches. I've thought about this past year and I realized I've had a serious problem with my depression. Not just the chemical imbalance that comes along with Bipolar, but the self-induced misery that people sometimes find themselves in.

I am not a cheerful person by nature. I tend to be very serious. There are times where I don't get a joke because I don't find it funny. Or I won't even understand it. Comedy is lost on me most of the time. Himself tries to keep me upbeat and happy with his silliness and along with talking me out of my depression when I can't seem to drag myself out of it. I don't know where I'd be without him.

Holidays are never a good time for me. There have been some major things that happened that just sucked the love of the holidays out of me. I don't just mean Christmas and New Year. I mean all holidays. My depression is really bad during those times.

But this Christmas something changed. I realized that I wanted some kind of thing to mark it. Not this year, because it would be very difficult to do what I wanted. I want a fake tree, maybe three or four feet high. Nothing too big. I want some simple decorations to go on it. And I want to be able to put a wrapped gift or two under it. Even if Himself knows what he's getting for Christmas, I want to have the thrill of opening them.

This will have to wait until we have a place of our own. But it's something I want to do. Also I need to get back into the habit of eating pickled fish on New Year's Eve. It's a family tradition that I've had to let go for the past couple years but I think I'll ask my dad to share a little of his since he got a big jar at Costco so I have a piece or two. Himself won't touch it, but that's okay. This is my tradition that comes from my family.

I was also very lonely over the holidays. I had Himself, but he spent Christmas playing video games. I didn't mind. I spent my day reading silly stories and writing to try to keep from sinking into depression. But I didn't get over to my dad's to see everyone for Christmas. My dad told me that was a good thing since the visits were spread out through the entire day, the last one ending around 10:30 pm. I can handle an hour or two over there but not much much more than that. We went over the day after Christmas.

I'm really whiny in this post, and I'm sorry. This has been a kind of stream of consciousness piece, with a little self-editing here and there. I promise I'll be a little perkier on Friday. I do hope all of you had a wonderful Christmas and will have a Happy New Year.

Suicide

I know I talk about mental illness on my blog. It's because it's something I'm passionate about. Depression, schizophrenia, bipolar, autism, hypermania, hypomania, all of things can affect people and you might not even notice.

I'm bipolar. Last November I tried to kill myself. I took half a bottle of klonopin. But I panicked and called and texted a bunch of people. I was taken to the hospital by ambulance when the police arrived. I don't remember the ride though. I lost consciousness. We got to the ER. I was told later I had periods of me being awake and disoriented and me just being unconscious. I couldn't tell what was happening, but it was enough to frighten Himself.

I vaguely remember getting to the mental hospital. It was around 2 or 3 in the morning. I made it to my room and passed out again. I woke up when someone came to take my vitals. It was 7 am and I was told they'd been taking my vitals every 15 minutes since I got there. I wasn't clear headed but I was more oriented so they let me go to breakfast.

A few days passed and I met up with a woman appointed by the court to talk to me. We talked and explained that if she and another one of her colleagues who I would meet in another day or two gave me a positive, I'd be stuck in the mental hospital for a while until they decided to give me a negative. Both of them gave me positives.

I had to go to court so it was legally said that I was to stay in the mental hospital until they felt I wasn't a threat to myself. To go I was handcuffed and placed in the back of a police car. I stood before the judge with the handcuffs on. When it was done, I was taken back to the hospital.

The hospital I was at was only a temporary stay. They found me another hospital to spend a longer time. That was Safe Haven. I was taken in the back of a police car, though this time I wasn't handcuffed. I got to the hospital and was immediately taken under the care of a psych tech. She guided me through the initial check in, and then helped me to my room. They were single occupancy rooms so I didn't have to worry about someone bothering me. She talked to me for a few minutes about who I was, what my goals were outside of the hospital, and why I thought suicide was the only way out. She genuinely cared. I'd already been in mental hospitals for suicidal ideology (thinking about it but not actually going through with it) three times and I never felt so cared for as I did when I arrived at Safe Haven.

I was there from December 3^rd to December 18^th. While I was there, I grew comfortable dealing with the other patients and the staff. I was treated well, and any time I felt upset one of the psych techs would take me to the side and sit with me until I felt better. My psychiatrist worked with me and actually listened when I told her what was going on so we could get my cocktail of meds fully set up to help me stay stable.

I still had to have the lady appointed by the court come and talk to me to make sure I was safe to leave the hospital and go home. She came and talked to me. She gave me a negative and my involuntary hold was retracted. I could go home. It took two days for that negative to get registered with the court. My husband came and got me and I went home.

When I tried to kill myself, I thought it was the only way to go. I felt nothing in my life was going right. I thought people would be better off without me because I was just a drain on them. I decided that people didn't really love me and only said that to appease me. I didn't talk about my feelings with anyone.

Pay attention to those you know have mental illness. If they want to talk, listen to them. Be encouraging to them and show that you love them. If they have trouble, don't abandon them. You can't change them. You can't tell them what to do. But sometimes all it takes is one person who believes in them to help them. But even that doesn't always work.

The national suicide hotline is here. Some states have local suicide hotlines. Encourage them to talk to them. Make sure they have the suicide hotline so if they have any doubts it's the right thing to do they have someone to talk to.

Video gamers FTW

Very few people seem to understand the value of video games. I never really played them growing up. We didn't have any of the consoles, and the only games we played were solitaire and spider solitaire. I would occasionally play in the arcade, but even that was discouraged as a waste of money.

Then I went to Job Corps. I discovered what a PlayStation was (the first ones – the massive gray one). I really only played a little, though I made some momentous comments about them. Like my first experience with the rumble pack (vibrating controller). I exclaimed, “It's a vibrator!” I couldn't figure out why my boyfriend (now my husband) and the RA in the dorm were laughing. It was only later, when I wasn't as innocent (let's not talk about how long that innocence lasted, okay?), that I realized why they thought it was so funny.

One thing I did notice though, as I started playing more video games. My depression was less pronounced. I could escape and play without hurting anyone. I could lose myself for a few hours in a world that was different from my own, in a way that reading and writing couldn't give me.

My favorite video games are the Final Fantasy series from VII to XII, skipping XI because, well, it was stupid and the Sims games all the way up to Sims 3 and its expansion packs. (I played Sims for a while, got Sims 2, and then when it came out I won Sims 3 in a contest.) As I don't have a console anymore (and I don't really miss it that much), I focus on the Sims. I need to get it on Himself's computer so I can play it, but that's another thing altogether. Sims 3 gave me the freedom to introduce myself to a world where I could see what it was like to be rich (cheat codes FTW!) and have lots of cats.

I was recently reading some things online when I came across this article from Time Magazine. It talks about how a specially crafted video game helped depressed teenagers deal with their depression. I thought it was an amazing study. Here's another one from the BBC on how video games can help with depression. And this one from the Huffington Post gives a much broader view of what video games are good for.

I get so tired of the naysayers of video games, saying they'll lead to violence and drug use. I've seen other reports out there where the need for violence, the desire to commit suicide, and general aggression are lessened by playing video games. They help a person put those emotions to use in a safe way and helps them relax. Where's the harm in that?

Now there is such a thing as too much of a good thing. Some people become so obsessed with video games that they lose all touch with reality. But those people are few and far between. We hear so much about them because it goes to prove the negative point. But more and more we're hearing about the benefits of video games as well.

What are your views on video games? Do you play any? What's your favorite?

Depression and the artist

I've been asked a few times how I write while I'm depressed. The truth is I don't. I try to. Don't get me wrong. And I may get a few words down on the page. But I have a hard time making them connect. I also have problems getting into books when I'm depressed. In short, it's very hard for me to do anything when I'm depressed.

This doesn't mean my world stops when I'm feeling this way. I find myself drawn to reading blog posts, other people's short stories – since that's all I usually have the attention span for, and social media. I don't participate as much but I will reblog interesting things on Twitter and like things on Facebook. I won't comment but I'll at least read them. I avoid the things I know will make me cry and carry on.

I've heard it all before. How I should write through it. It's not that bad. If I can't get through it maybe I shouldn't be a writer. Blah. Blah. Blah. As I've told someone before, you're not inside my head space. You don't know what I'm feeling, thinking, and how much I'm hurting. That's enough to derail most people who suffer from severe depression (like a lot of people do) from doing anything. Not just writing. But living. We stop wanting to do anything.

I've been lucky in having a husband who notices when I'm that way and tries to talk me out of it. He encourages me to listen to music, to do anything I can to break the cycle. Sometimes it works. More often it doesn't. But knowing he's there to force me to take care of myself (believe me, this is important when I'm depressed), to convince me to do what I know I need to do, to find something that makes me relax. I've also been very lucky to get a therapist who understands these moods and gives me several good ideas to try as well. She helps me work through them after the fact so I can get better at stopping the downward spiral before it consumes me. There are just days where nothing works.

One of the things I've noticed is how people talk about artists and their depression, how it inspired them and helped them do glorious things. That they worked while they were in the throes of emotional agony and painted/wrote/built these amazing things. I call bullshit on that. Speaking from personal experience, it is almost impossible to work through those things. I won't say it's completely that way because perhaps there are a few out there. But from personal experience, and the experiences of several other authors and artists I've talked to, it doesn't work to try to work through the depression.

So when you talk to an author or an artist, and they say they're depressed and having a hard time getting to work, don't tell them to suck it up and do it anyway. Don't tell them that it'll be brilliant and they only need to sit down at their computer, pick up their pencil or brush, or open a notebook with a pen in their hand and do what they love doing. Because it's highly likely that nothing will happen.

Thursday Thoughts - Depression

I want to talk to you today about something that plagues a lot of people's lives, and makes it so they can't live their lives well: depression.

True clinical depression is a mood disorder in which feelings of sadness, loss, anger, or frustration interfere with everyday life for weeks or longer. It can make it so you don't want to get out of bed, you don't want to see family or friends, you don't want to eat, you either want to sleep all the time or you can't sleep at all. There are so many signs and symptoms of depression that it's hard to pinpoint them all.

According to the National Institute of Mental Health, symptoms of depression may include the following:

*Difficulty concentrating, remembering details, and making decisions
*Fatigue and decreased energy
*Feelings of guilt, worthlessness, and/or helplessness
*Feelings of hopelessness and/or pessimism
*Insomnia, early-morning wakefulness, or excessive sleeping
*Irritability, restlessness
*Loss of interest in activities or hobbies once pleasurable, including sex
*Overeating or appetite loss
*Persistent aches or pains, headaches, cramps, or digestive problems that do not ease even with treatment
*Persistent sad, anxious, or "empty" feelings
*Thoughts of suicide, suicide attempts

I suffer from depression. I have days where I just want to crawl into a hole and not come out ever again. I lose interest in everything - my writing, my husband, my cat, my life. I snap at Himself when he tries to get me to come out of it. I feel like nothing in life will ever be right again. This can go on for hours, days, or as the definition suggests, weeks.

I am on medication to curb my depressive episodes and it works for the most part. But depression isn't something I can simply "get over". It's in my head, yes, but it's not "all in my head" in the sense that I can just push it away as if it were nothing.

I've contemplated suicide three times in the past few years. All three times I had a plan and I was just waiting to put it into action. Thankfully Himself, my friends, and my therapist all caught me before I could go through with it and got me the help I needed. Suicidal thoughts are not uncommon in people who suffer from depression.

According to Web MD, an estimated 19 million American adults suffer from major depression. That's 19 million people who have their lives interrupted by something they can't consciously control. That's 19 million people who may at one point or another contemplate ending their lives because they can't handle it anymore. That's 19 million people who need love and support, not condemnation.

I have faced a lot of ridicule and discrimination because of my mental illness. People don't believe that I have problems. They think it's something I can control. I can to a certain extent, with proper medication and other treatments. But it's always there and sometimes even the medication isn't enough to fight it off. On those days I curl up, I hide from the world, and I sleep. I sleep a lot. I don't eat unless Himself forces me to eat and I won't get out of bed unless Himself forces me out of bed. Those are the days I need love and support the most, and I get it from my husband.

If you have a friend or loved one who is suffering from any kind of mental illness, remember that it's not something they can consciously control. Offer them love and support. Don't turn away from them. Educate yourself on their mental illness so you can understand what's going on. If you suffer from a mental illness yourself, educate yourself on what to expect. Learn all you can about it.

A letter to my younger self

Dear 15 year old me,

If only I could tell you.  If I only I could tell you what the next 20 years will bring you.

You will lose someone you love in a terrible car accident, though you don't know you love him yet.  You've only just met him and his sister.  You love being with them because they give you the freedom from the hell that is your current home life and you love their family because they're so open and welcoming.  Keep that love in your heart forever, little one.  These people will love you for your whole life - even after shit hits the fan.

Your mother won't always treat you like shit.  She really does love you, though she can't express it the right way.  Not after what she lived through growing up.  Like you, she's got some undiagnosed mental illness and she hasn't found a way to work through the trauma of her own childhood.  Be grateful she isn't as bad as she was when the older three were kids, though I know she's bad enough to you now.

Don't give up on school.  I know it's hard.  I wish I could tell you how much better things would have been if you'd actually put some effort into your schooling.  Then again, if you were different I suppose we'd never meet Himself and get married.

I know you're depressed a lot, moreso than a normal teenager should be.  Don't worry.  In another year, they'll find a doctor who knows what this is and will get you the help you need.  You're going to rebel, of course, and it's going to come back to haunt you many times over the next 20 years.  But at least you'll have a diagnosis to work with and you will know that there is something wrong with you - and it is treatable.

You will try to take your own life when you lose the boy you're going to grow to love, because at that time you feel he's the only person in the world who loved you - aside from your little sister, who you should stop bullying because of the fact that you're jealous she doesn't get hit by your mom while you do.  You'll resent it at first, but you'll later be grateful to your father for stopping you.  He won't even know that he's saving your life because you'll never tell him or your mom how close you came to ending your own life.

You will love again, only to be betrayed.  But that betrayal will give you the courage to leave everything you know behind and move to Washington.  By doing that, you open yourself up to a new experience - a new life.  You will find yourself both loved and hated by the people around you.  You're different from them, and some will resent you for it.  But you will excel at what you do and you'll make new friends that will remain friends for life.  You will also open yourself up again to love.  You will love a boy who learns to love you back, and eventually you will get married.

You will get the mother you always wanted, only to have her stolen away by cancer.  You will lose everything you love and almost everything you own, and you will once again find yourself in the position of wanting to take your own life.  But again someone who loves you will stop you, even though he is the cause of some of your pain.  You will work through it and become stronger for it.

Over the next 20 years, you will face death, pain, and loss.  You will drop out of college because of illness.  You will spend time in the hospital multiple times due to illness.  You will be on different medications off and on through your life because of illness.  You will gain a new insight into handling your depression and anxiety, and you will learn to smile and laugh again.

There will be negative things in your life, but there will also be joy.  You meet a man you can love and who will love you back.  You will be together for 13 years and married for 10 as of the writing of this letter.  He will be there to back you up.  You will make many new friends and you will start to realize your dream of becoming a published writer.

Throughout everything, there will be one constant: your writing.  You're going to want to quit here soon.  You're going to have that dream punctured for you by your teachers.  Your mother is going to give you one of the rare pieces of good advice and encouragement that she gave us during our teenage years - "No matter what happens, don't stop writing.  Even if your fingers cramp and you're crying tears of blood, don't stop writing."

We will stop writing, but we will never stop dreaming.  And because of your husband, you really take a good, hard look at your dream and realize that maybe, just maybe, it's reachable.  You will meet other writers, people who become good friends, who will encourage you.  You will offer encouragement and praise to them as well, and will learn a lot about the craft from them.

Remember, even as bleak as being a 15 year old in an abusive and dysfunctional family can be, you will have 20 years of life to live and while it won't always be all sunshine and rainbows, it will teach you to be strong.  Keep that in mind and you will be fine.

With much love,
Your 35 year old future self

Why I should never blog while depressed

I had a huge long blog post written out, full of a lot of things that have been depressing me of late.  I previewed it before posting.  I'm glad I did.  You know why?

Because it gave me the chance to delete it.

Yes, I'm depressed a lot of the time.  But none of you need to read something like that.  A lot of it's personal, and there's no need to inflict my personal problems on you guys.

So...instead, here's some things that make me happy.

Cute baby animals

Photo by Essa al Mazrooei 

aoao2 At deviantART

Evocative art

Picture by Jenny Dolfen

Gold-Seven on deviantART

Funny pictures including cute kittens

(Sorry, no credit for this one...I don't even remember where I found it, I think it was on FB somewhere.)

My cat Reidar

Photo taken by me (@annikkawoods)

Catfight by Technoboy

(WARNING - There is swearing in this song)

Never-Ending Story by Within Temptation

Jillian by Within Temptation

(And River Tam from Firefly/Serenity...how awesome is she?!?)

Good friends:

@KDSarge

@BeccaieJ

@tundramyst

@gogorach
@thetexanne

And many, many, many others that I interact with over on Twitter

My husband (who refuses to have his online existence and/or his picture put into my blog)

And, of course, my books and my writing.

So I do have several things that make me happy, and I'm very grateful for those things in my life.

(As for the book reviews I WAS going to do...I left my Kindle at work so the books I was going to review & my notes on them aren't present...presently.  I'll try to resume the book reviews shortly.)

D is for Depression

I wanted to take today to talk very seriously about a topic that's a rather personal one: depression.

I'm not talking about feeling depressed because something bad happens.  I'm talking about the life altering type of depression.  The one that weighs you down and makes it so you can't function on a day to day basis.  The kind that you see all of those lame commercials about.  The kind I suffer from.

I'm bipolar.  This means I suffer from manic episodes and episodes of severe depression.  I also have moderately severe anxiety.  So normal life isn't so normal for me.  For the longest time I refused to admit I had a problem.  Then something happened that kind of kicked me in the head and made me realize I did have a problem and that I needed to do something about it.

Being homeless can really give you a whole new perspective on life.  Part of what made me realize I had a problem was that stint of homelessness I suffered through.  I was couch surfing where I could or sleeping in my car when I couldn't find someone to let me couch surf.  It wasn't pleasant and there was more than one day where I thought about just going to sleep and never waking up again.

I found a low cost clinic and I'm still under their care.  I love my doctor there.  She always makes me laugh and my day's always a little brighter after my appointments.  I still suffer because of my bipolar but we're slowly making progress with medication and counseling.  It's amazing what someone actually CARING about me enough to say, "Hey, this is what you need.  Let me help you find it." did for me.  The fact that my husband supports me and is willing to do just about anything to help me keep moving forward with this is also an amazingly awesome thing.

And I'm not alone.  These people may or may not be bipolar, but they do suffer from major depression disorder.  If you look, I'm in good company.  There are a lot of people on that list who are very well known - like Ernest Hemingway, Sylvia Plath, Edgar Allan Poe, and many, many others.  There's one significant difference between me and them though: they died because of their depression.  Hemingway and Plath killed themselves.  Poe...well, the jury's still out on what killed him.  But we can guess that depression may have had a hand in it.  It certainly had a hand in the drinking and drug use he did.

Many people with bipolar disorder, depression, anxiety, and a whole host of other mental illnesses turn to drugs or alcohol to ease their pain.  It doesn't work.  Only admitting there is a problem and dealing with the problem head on works.

There are self tests you can do. If you even think you have clinical depression or another mental illness, talk to your doctor.  They're the best ones to help you find the resources needed to help.  If you need the help, get it.  I'm living proof that sometimes you need a little extra help.  My friend Nora is an example of someone who didn't get the help they needed.

Nora and I went to school together from the fourth grade on up through high school.  Both of us fought with weight issues together.  We fought through our first round of depression together too.  It was her mom that told my mom of a good doctor to help me with my depression.  (We were both diagnosed our sophomore year in high school.)

I went on to college while Nora continued to struggle with her depression.  She tried college but couldn't concentrate.  She was rediagnosed as bipolar and the medications they gave her seemed to help.  She dated, found a guy she liked, and got married.  She had a daughter that was the center of her world.  But something changed.

Nora's depression and manic episodes came back.  She suffered from social anxiety so bad that her husband did everything that was needed outside the house.  Nora went back to the doctor but when she took the medications she was prescribed, she had so many problems that she stopped taking them.  Instead of going back to the doctor, she decided not to take any medications.

Nora's daughter was ten years old when she walked in after school expecting to be greeted with a snack and questions about her day at school.  Instead, she found her mother dead of a self-inflicted gunshot wound to her head.  Her suicide note contained only three words "I'm a failure".

I'm still haunted by Nora's death.  Her daughter called her father, and then she called me.  I was the only person in Nora's cell phone aside from her husband.  All of the rest of her friends had slowly abandoned her because of her mental illness.  I kept encouraging her to get help and she'd tell me the worst two words ever: "I can't."

If you know someone with a mental illness, don't walk away from them.  They need you as much as they need their medication and a good counselor.  I've had people abandon me when they found out I was bipolar.  It was like they thought they'd catch it if they hung out with me.  You don't "catch" mental illness from someone. So remember that we're people too, that we can live and love like everyone else, and that we need the help of good friends to get us through those days where we just feel like our lives aren't worth living.

Some sites to help you learn more about mental illnesses.

NAMI
Scholastic papers on depression
Overcoming the stigma

Sunday 'fess up...Anni's depressed and exhausted...and still dizzy

I swear, I must have insulted someone in another life or something.  My butt is getting kicked by karma with every breath I take anymore.  I haven't had a good year in........way too long.

Everyone should know by now that I was asking for help to get both me and Himself to Texas.  Obviously I didn't get to go.  But thanks to donations and a generous loan from a good friend, we had enough to get him there, get him a rental car, get him into a motel (since his sister won't help him at all), and to keep him fed while he's in Texas.  Thank you to everyone who was so kind and generous and helped us out in our time of need.

I got to talk to my mother-in-law on the phone.  There were some harsh words spoken, but there was also forgiveness given for some of the rotten things we've said and done to each other.  She has been like a mother to me and she was glad to hear I still thought of her like that.  So even though I don't get to see her in person our peace has been made and my goodbyes were said.

Writing this week was interesting.  I finished my Beauty and the Beast retelling.  I also downloaded the Scrivener beta for Windows and imported Only A Name into it.  I'm currently working on getting it divided into chapters and giving it another edit.  I've also made some progress on Cracked World and I also dredged up Birth of the Silver Lady to start editing and revamping it as well.

I'm also participating in the A-Z Blog Challenge.  So expect to see a post every day.  Sundays are the only days that we're not supposed to post a blog entry for the challenge, but my SFU will still be up each week.

Vlog has been completed as usual.  It's not a cheerful vlog because I talk a lot about how depressed I am and how I'm going to miss Himself while he's in Texas.  But he needs to be there so I'm not going to begrudge him this chance to say his final goodbyes to his mom.

By the time this goes up, I'll have been up for over 24 hours most likely.  I'm having a major fit of insomnia and I'm just not able to go to sleep.  My stomach is in knots.  I'm terrified of something happening while Himself is in Texas.  I shouldn't be.  I don't know why but my subconscious has been filling my dreams for the last two nights with everything that could happen - plane crash, his mother and/or sister blackmail or brow beat or whatever him into staying in Texas, car crash...the list goes on and on.  I even have him getting bitten by a snake and dying at some point in one of my dreams.

At least I've made a new discovery with a new music site.  That's my "Muse Music" playlist.  These are all songs that have either inspired my writing or are inspiration while I write.  The list is probably going to get longer too as I add more songs that I like.  Then again, I love to have music playing while I'm writing so that's no big surprise.