About five years ago I came to the realization that I would not be having my own children. It was devastating to me. My entire life has been with kids and wanting kids so when I started having this deep hopeless feeling, I assumed it was depression because of the infertility.
I went to a family doctor and was put on anti-depressants. I also saw a counselor to talk through it all. But it seemed as though the anti-depressants sent me to the hospital. I tried several and almost always ended up in the hospital.
I would have horrible stomach pain and would be throwing up. It was a constant until I could get the IVs needed at the hospital.
Over Thanksgiving that year, I was bad enough that I would go in just for IV fluids.
(you can read about this time in my life in my post "for those who struggle" written in Feb of 2015. I find it especially interesting knowing all I know now.)
The doctors that saw me never thought it was the anti-depressants making me sick but it was the only thing that made sense in my mind. No tests were telling me anything different was wrong so I assumed I had an allergy to anti-depressants.
That following February we were in Wisconsin for a family gathering. We received news that stunned me and made me feel depressed about my infertility. In the middle of the night, the pain started again. SO much pain that I couldn't lie still, I couldn't relax. I kept going into the bathroom to throw up but nothing would happen. Finally, we went to the ER.
They ran tests on me and I was there for quite a while. I had time to talk to these different nurses and the doctor. I asked them about it being from stress.
They said that it definitely could be stress and that it made sense. It could also be anxiety and panic.
I ended up being medicated enough that I slept the entire way home from Wisconsin. I don't remember any of it.
That doctor had suggested seeing a different counselor/therapist and possibly a psychiatrist. (I'll shorten that to psych from now on)
I did as he suggested.
In 2015, I was diagnosed with severe depression along with high anxiety and panic attacks. I saw my psych regularly as well as a new therapist.
My husband did well with my random panic attacks. It would mostly happen at night and he would help calm me to a place I could sleep again.
At this time we still thought it all surrounded my infertility.
In 2016, however, my eyes were opened.
There was an incident at my parents house where my sister got angry with me and said everyone was tired of walking on eggshells. This rocked me to my core and I was in shock.
I went home without another word and at home asked my husband if he understood. He said he did not.
Later I was told that I have bursts of uncontrollable anger... that I can be fine and then BOOM, I'm angry.
This was news to me. I knew that I can get mad and I grew up knowing I had a temper (which now makes sense... keep reading..) but to have these bursts of anger that my sisters and husband described I couldn't wrap my brain around. It was literally blind anger.
I'm talking big outbursts too. I would become a monster. I don't like thinking back to that but it happened and I don't want to leave it out.
I talked to my psych about this and he guided me towards some anger management books but also diagnosed me (correctly this time) with borderline personality disorder. It was during this time of finding out how I treated people and being told that everyone was against me that I attempted suicide. You can read more about that in my Mental Health Part 1.
Here is a summary of borderline personality disorder:
From that diagnosis and earth shattering events, I've been working on myself and trying to mend strained relationships.
My parents never saw this anger and were confused by it as well. So for a few months, I lived with them. Trying to find a calm.
My husband and I were in constant communication and knew this was a temporary situation.
All of this new information... the news about my actions, the new diagnosis, etc.. everything seemed different. I was learning to become very aware of what I was feeling at all times.
I also switched counselors again.
Without knowing the previous diagnosis, she also said I had borderline personality disorder.
As I've been taking this journey and discovering more, I can look back into my past and see times that I was struggling with my mental health... childhood, high school, college, etc.
If I put myself back in that moment, I can feel the anxiety and panic. Other times I can feel the unexplainable hopelessness. I can feel it physically, emotionally and mentally. I know, now, that it was the same thing I deal with today.
Those times that I was labeled "with a temper" weren't always just your average getting mad but were a result of panic inside of me.
While I'm still going to write specific posts about specific topics (Depression, Anxiety, Panic), I want to give you a quick insight into what I experience.
When I'm fighting the depressed, hopeless state, I'm tired. My body and mind feel numb and I want to cry.
Notice... this is different than what I described in my post about suicide. Suicide is all pain. Everything hurts.
Right now I'm talking depression. It's different. I know that confuses a lot of people. I fight depression regularly. Suicidal thoughts are far apart.. and when on the right medication and talking to the right therapist are very rare.
People ask "why can't you just be happy?" when talking about my depression. It's not a light switch so it's not something I can just turn off and on. It's deeper.
Anxiety for me feels like I'm going to throw up. My stomach is in so much pain and my chest gets very tight.
Panic is the next level up. My whole body hurts and I can't grasp how to release it. I pace around the room and can't finish sentences.
If you watch my hands, you can tell when I'm anxious and follow it up to panic.
I have tools that help me but if I'm not able to use those, it can come out in anger. For example.. if I'm "freaking out" and I walk away from the situation, I need to be left alone. If I'm followed or pushed against a wall, I turn into a different person, trying to get free.
I don't like that person.
Mental illness isn't a battle a person can face alone.
It takes people that truly love you and support you. They need to do their best to understand what is happening and not try to fix the "problem".
So if you are a person whose loved one is battling mental illness, I applaud you. Don't give up. Don't quit on them. It's hard on you, too. I know. It's a very confusing thing for everyone involved.
Tell them you love them and want to learn more. THEN learn more.
I can't blame all actions on mental illness and think I'm without blame. That's pure ignorance and foolishness. There's times that I HAVE to fight the battle inside of me. I can't let it take over. When it does, there can be a mess to clean up. Hurt feelings on every side. I'm not innocent.
Going back to three years ago, as it was all new, my panic attacks were frequent. It came from not knowing myself or what to do with it. I felt rejected and not a complete person.
It's hard for others to understand that. I tried to explain it to different people back then and it was too hard. Back then I didn't know as much as I do today.
I've devoted a lot of time over the last year to figuring out how to explain mental health to people. It's very misunderstood and there's a stigma that needs to be banished. My husband left me a year ago and the things he said that day all lead to my mental health.
I'm a Disney fanatic. And I've been noticing different characters in different movies... Ed in The Lion King and Chicken Little are the main two that come to mind. They are projected as "crazy". They make us laugh. In Chicken Little, a little girl with her mom walks by Chicken Little and says, "look mom it's the crazy chicken!" The mom replies, "yes, crazy little chicken. stay away from the crazy chicken." This was because he had said the sky was falling so yes, it seems crazy. But the portrayal was to stay away from him because of it.
There are more I'm noticing now that I'm digging into mental health.
Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh is known for being depressed. Olaf calls Kristoff crazy when he's talking to "the rocks".
I just watched Smallfoot. There is a character in there that literally is called crazy and it hurts him.
On FRIENDS there's an episode where Monica and Chandler are questioning a guy about being a sperm donor (John Stamos). Chandler asks if there's mental health in his family.
What's my point?
There's labels for those of us who are "crazy" and there's a negative stigma.
I've been called 'crazy', 'nutcase', 'insane', 'mental', 'nuts', 'bonkers' and more.
At times we may be scary or act like we're literally insane. But we're still people.
Mental illness is real.
Here's a sign from a mental health exhibit I went to (three times!). Notice how many of those names I was called. Also notice the original question... is there a slang word for cancer or asthma? What about diabetes?
Back to my story... After living with my parents for just a few months, I moved back home. Now that I was aware of the issue, I could work on myself a lot more. But there's only so much that I can do.
It really can be a "two steps forward, five steps back" type of situation.
I, again, switched therapists. I actually went to a completely different location. It was one that my husband and I could both see a person individually and then also together.
It is VERY important to find the right person. It has to be someone you trust and can be completely open.
Things seemed to be improving... so I thought.
I felt like I, myself, was improving but our household had become toxic.
I was mentally manipulated at times and even abused with it. It's scary living with a mental illness. We can't trust our own minds and then when someone else is telling us what to do or think, or calling us names, it just makes it worse, not better.
A year ago there was an event for my husband's fire department. I had every intention in going but he told me not to. He knew it caused me anxiety and told me to stay home. I begged him to let me go and he wouldn't. He then told people there that I wasn't feeling well.
He left me crying and confused. I was supposed to be asleep by the time he got home.
For myself, my instinct is to hide and sleep. It's healthier for me to try to get out there when I'm able.
Depression, anxiety and panic are all very debilitating. They paralyze me.
So when there's a time that I feel like I could fight the anxiety, it's best to take that opportunity and use it to become stronger.
We need the encouragement to be out with people. We can't and shouldn't hide away all the time. We need to live and learn to live with our illness.
Don't get me wrong, though! There are times that we NEED to be left alone. We NEED a break from fighting our minds and fighting for survival. But we shouldn't live in hiding... as tempting as it is.
Right now I struggle with all of that. I want to hide away. I don't do anything around town (I'll get to that more next time).
It's been a hard journey. And dealing with divorce while trying to become stable is extra hard. There's constantly a battle.
My job helps me tons. I work 11 hours a day but that's 11 hours that I don't have to think about anything except the kids. It's exhausting but then I have evenings to sleep.
Weekends are the hardest. There's too much time alone with my thoughts.
My parents are amazing. They are learning about mental health with me. They come to my house all the time to help me. Not just for a bad day but just in general to help with different things.
I have supportive and understanding friends as well.
That goes a long way.
I had to switch therapists again due to the divorce and I have a new psych.
While I'm mentioning psychs...
I want people to be okay with medication. There's nothing wrong with it as long as it's not being abused. I encourage you to find a psych you trust and a good therapist. It can be hard to find the right fit but it's so worth it.
I can list tools that may help like I did in my post about Triggers. But unless I know your situation specially, they're just suggestions. Everyone is different. Different things work for different people. Please see someone and don't just hide away.
Mental illness isn't something that can just be prayed away or something that verses can cure. DO NOT GET ME WRONG... I'm a full believer in Christ. I trust Him 100%. I have faith. IT helps just as much as the medications.
Having anxiety, depression, panic attacks doesn't make me less of a Christian. Taking medicine doesn't make me weak.
Someone once told me that a specific painkiller is a cure-all. That person spoke out of ignorance.. plain lack of knowledge. Pain killers don't help with anxiety or depression. There may be physically pain but it's coming from mental imbalance, not physical injury.
Just like you take medicine for a headache or diabetes or any other illness, medications for mental health is the same. Please do not think it's bad to be on medication for stability. Mental illness IS an illness and needs to be treated as such.
I heard an example of a broken leg. If your leg is broken, you aren't just going to ignore it. You'll do whatever it takes to fix it. The same is true for mental health. Do whatever it takes to be stable.
And again... I'm going to you that have a loved one with a mental illness... let them know you are okay with their medications. Help others to understand it. And really don't use it as a tool so you don't have to deal with them.
Living with mental illness can be very scary. Knowing and trusting the people that surround us make a big difference.
I hope my story helped a little. I'll be going into more truths to help with getting rid of the negative stigma in upcoming posts.
Next time I'm going to talk about Safety.
I'm leaving here a scene from the movie Disney movie 'Moana'. It spoils the ending if you haven't seen the movie but it fits what I feel like. The anger and what defines me.
https://photos.app.goo.gl/PQVeSFCtqecugweN7
I hope the link works.
Here's what sticks out to me... They've taken her heart and she doesn't know who she is or what defines her. Having someone understand and return her heart takes off that outer shell of anger and she feels herself again.
I've lost the "real" me. She's in there. I can feel her but it's not real yet.
The more I keep putting one foot in front of the other and looking to God, the more "ME" I'll feel.
My name is Amanda Cannon. I am not crazy. I live with borderline personality disorder.
