FINDING A THERAPIST

Finding the right therapist for you is a process of elimination. You must search for someone whose personality is pleasing to you, and one whom you feel comfortable with. I went through several therapists till I found the right one. The problem is, there are good ones and bad ones. I had my share of bad ones.

 

When my mother first found out about my illness, she took me to a therapist in a nearby town. The therapist told me I was injuring myself for attention, and by doing that, I was hurting my family and friends. I went home after therapy crying. Years later, I went to a therapist who told me to think happy thoughts and my depression would go away. Another one listened to what my ex-boyfriend told her and lectured me instead of hearing my side.

 

I felt like giving up, but I kept searching. I knew I couldn't get better without help. When I was in college, my Mom went to a hospital with mental health services, and they gave her a number for counseling services. I found a therapist who educated me about depression and helped me battle my illness.

 

Years later when my ex-boyfriend left me, I went to a therapist who gave me homework, allowed me to write down my thoughts, and helped me reach recovery once again. I continued to see this therapist until recently when she changed jobs. She helped me through many rough times, and taught my husband about my illness.

 

In order to make therapy work, I had to develop a bond with my therapist. I had to feel comfortable telling her my deepest, darkest secrets. To do this, I had to find a therapist whom I could trust. It took me several sessions till I felt comfortable enough with my therapist to share my life story.

 

To find a therapist, look in your telephone book or search online. There are several sites that you can type in your state and they will give you a list of therapists. One site is Psychology Today at http://therapists.psychologytoday.com/rms/. Also check for state funded programs. Go to National Alliance For Mental Illness, NAMI, for help. You can find NAMI's website on my sidebar. I found a therapist through a free program offered at my job.

 

Don't give up if a therapist doesn't suit your needs or isn't very good. Keep searching till you find the one that is best for you. I didn't give up, and in time I found a therapist who helped me reach the light. Once I found the therapist best for me, I worked hard and I listened to her advice. I had to be willing to get better for therapy to work effectively. Once I put all my effort into recovery, I was able to find the light and dance within.

THERE WILL BE ROUGH TIMES

Even though I have been dancing in the light for many years, I do have times when my illness gets the best of me. Recently I had foot surgery and after going back to work, I got an infection in my foot. For over a week I have been off work, laid up, my foot wrapped in bandages to my knee, and in pain. For almost six months I have been wearing an air cast boot. With all this going on I fell into a depression.

 

Suddenly, everything seemed hopeless. No matter how much I tried to think about the positive side to my situation, I got lost in jumping to conclusions, magnifying, and worrying. I thought my foot would never heal. I still fight with this feeling of hopelessness as I still struggle to recover.

 

Being laid up leaves the mind to wander into the realms of darkness. I'm useless. I can't even help pay the bills. We are going to go broke because of my dumb foot. I am going to be stuck in this boot for life. I'm never going to heal and I will have to leave my job. Maybe I should have never had the surgery.

 

While my mind continued on into the world of negativity, my mood dipped into sadness. I cried in my husband arms, I moped around the house, and worried myself sick.

 

I tried to keep my mind busy while I was off from work. I watched movies, I worked on a book I'm writing, and I read. My mind still kept slipping into the hole. I turned to my husband and friends. They reminded me to find the positive side to my situation. I had and have family and friends to help me out. I have a home, I have a loving husband and a dog who sticks at my side when my husband is at work.

 

Even though I have returned to work, my sadness lingers. I worry that the pain will not go away. I worry I will have to take a sick leave and we will not be able to pay our bills. I cried for a half hour when I had to go home early because I was in a lot of pain. My friends and husband remind me the healing process takes time, and even though I can only work four hour days, at least I'm working. My foot is no longer wrapped in bandages to my knee, so it shows progress.

 

While at home I write my feelings down in a journal, I try to remind myself of the good things in my life, I lean on my support system, and I try to keep myself busy.

 

I may be facing a bout of depression once again, but this time I know how to handle it and keep it from pushing me all the way down the hole. I'm too strong to let this sadness push me to the bottom of the pit of darkness.

PETS ARE A COMFORT

I was never a pet lover until my ex-boyfriend brought home a dachshund named Daisy. At first I wanted nothing to do with her, but she was determined to get my attention. She sat on my lap and nudged my hand with her nose. Where ever I went, she followed and at night she slept next to me. Before long, I was captured by her determination. I fell in love with her.

When my depression progressed, Daisy stayed by my side showing me unconditional love. When I lay in bed ready to give up, she snuggled close to me and stared into my eyes with her beady brown eyes. It was as if she were saying, “I love you and I'm here for you.”

When I was placed in a hospital, Daisy refused to eat and that gave me the strength to get better. I knew I needed to get out of the hospital so my Daisy would start eating again. So within a week, I was released from the hospital and Daisy and I were reunited.

When Daisy passed on, I got a rat terrier named Brandi. Brandi had more spunk then Daisy and was much younger. When I got depressed ,she'd jump up and down till I got up and walked her. She kept me moving and reminded me how important it was to walk even when I didn't feel like it. She showed me that I had someone other than myself to take care of. I had to keep going if not for me, than for her.

The dog I have now, Elli, loves to snuggle. She snuggles up on my lap and follows me around. She keeps me company when my husband is at work and makes sure she sends me off to work with extra love.

The love of a pet has given me the extra strength I need to fight the darkness and the comfort I need when the world seems hopeless. My dogs were and are not just pets, but they are my babies. I hold them dear to my heart. They help me see the light and give me a reason to dance within the light. They never turned their backs on me even when some of my friends had.

A pet of any type can be a comfort for a person struggling with mental illness. For me, it was and is the love of a dog that gives me extra strength to face each day. All my dogs seemed to know when I was at my worst. They knew when to stay extra close. My buddy, Elli, is very loving and never stops showing me how much she adores me.

LACK OF SLEEP

Some people with mental illness sleep all day and night with no energy to get up, but for others, sleep seems impossible. I'm one of those people who could not sleep and to this day still can't without the help of medication. Nighttime is when my brain goes into over drive. All my fears, worries, and negative thoughts race through my mind at night.

 

I roll from side to side and try to clear my mind, but my thoughts are relentless. My muscles tense and my stomach bounces like a basketball.

 

In my college years, I worried about classes, my grades, about holding on to a friendship that at the time I couldn't see was bad for me, and whether or not my car would make it to the college. I feared getting a bad grade, failing a test, being alone, losing a friendship, and facing another day.

 

Will I be able to pass my classes? Can I make it through another day? Will my friend leave me? Will I be all alone? Is this sadness going to ever end? Am I a loser like everyone said in high school?

 

Now in my adult days my worries are much different. Will we be able to pay our bills? Will we go broke? What if I make a mistake at work and get fired? Am I a good wife? What bills do we have to pay this week? Will our checks be big enough to cover our bills and still have money for groceries and gas? Can I make it through work without too much foot pain? Am I a good cashier?

 

Then there's the fear that etches its boney fingers into my soul. I'm not a good wife. I'm going to make a mistake and get fired. We are going to go broke and lose our home.

 

I roll from side to side as my mind races. I sit up in bed and lay back down. I try to clear my mind. What can I think about that is positive? I try to picture my husband and me on an exotic vacation, but the thoughts intrude. I look at the clock--2:00 am. No matter how hard I try, sleep will not come.

 

I told my psychiatrist about my inability to sleep at night, and he put me on an anxiety medication that relaxes me so much that I drift off. I also use a relaxation tape to help calm my nerves. The one down side to medication is I can't get up in the morning without being groggy. I prefer to be sleepy in the mornings over staying up all night.

 

Getting enough sleep is important to maintain my mental stability and if it takes medicine to achieve this, I'm willing to do it. In order to stay above the dark hole, I must be able to get plenty of rest at night. It's another dreaded pill, but it's worth it.

Is God Real?

When I fell deep into the hole, I began to question God. Was there a God? If so, why was He letting me suffer? Was I being punished? How could He let me survive in a life of darkness? Maybe God was just a made up illusion like Santa Claus. If He was real, wouldn't He take away the darkness?

 

I was raised in a small Methodist church in Ripley New York. I went to church, pretty much every Sunday. My parents were and are strong believers in God, and I was brought up with the knowledge that God was a big part of our lives. When I became ill, I started to lose faith in God, and all that I learned growing up seemed like a myth. If God was merciful, why did I suffer within my own mental hell? If He was real, wouldn't He take my anguish away?

 

I stopped going to church with my parents and turned my back on all I was taught throughout my childhood. If God was real, then I hated Him for torturing me. If He wasn't real, I was angry for being fooled into believing in Him. One way or another, I turned my back on God.

 

During my recovery process I joined a Bible group at a friend's church. I slowly began to see how God played a role in my life while I was ill. I began to realize that even though I turned my back on Him, He never turned his back on me.

 

He was there doing little things in my life that I could not see. I took a handful of pills, became dizzy, and drove to college in a snow storm with no idea how I got there safely. During my recovery, I suddenly could see, God got me to college safely. He wanted me to live.

 

God gave me my mother who fought to find me help, my grandparents who spoiled me with their love while I lived with them and a friend at college who listened and encouraged me. God also brought me a therapist who helped me reach recovery for five years. For five years I lived the life I always wanted to: I hung out with friends, stayed out till early morning, and enjoyed life.

 

It wasn't until I reached recovery and my friend, Kelly, helped me find God, that I realized He was at my side the whole time. Even though I turned my back on God, He never turned his back on me. He placed people in my life to help me through the darkness, and he kept me alive when I tried to end my life. I learned, during the rough time, to look for the little signs in my life that show me God is still at my side.

DREADED MEDICATION

During my second bout of depression, I was told I would have to take antidepressants for the rest of my life. I cringed. Medication for life! You mean I can't live without it? Who wants to pop pills for the rest of his or her life? I sure didn't. Why couldn't I find happiness and a stable life without it? Wasn't there another way?

I soon learned there was no way around antidepressants. With medication, I would function better, I would be more stable, and I would be able to find happiness. The one thing they didn't tell me is that it's not easy finding the medication which works best for you. It's a trial and error process.

My doctor gave me a prescription for an antidepressant, and a week later I called him up crying that my depression had worsened. So I went in to be asked a few questions and was handed another prescription, but this time I couldn't stay awake. I needed to take frequent naps though out the day. I returned to his office to be prescribed yet another medication only to have a bad reaction.

Why did I continue to put myself through this torture? Wasn't there an easier way? Was this worth it? Would I ever get better? Was there a medication that would work for me?

I continued to try medications because I wanted to live a normal life, I wanted to be happy, and I wanted to be able to function. I wanted a life in the light. I was determined to do whatever it took to reach recovery.

In time, I found the antidepressant that made finding the light easier, the one medicine which brought me relief from some of the symptoms of my illness.

Medication doesn't completely take away your mental illness. Hard work in therapy combined with medication lifts you out of the hole. I went to therapy two times a week and took my medication each day as instructed. In time, I was, and still am, dancing in the light.

An antidepressant helped make the symptoms of my illness more manageable, and therapy helped me learn to change my pattern of thinking. The combination has made me a healthier and happier person. I am living a happy life with a wonderful husband. Sometimes the symptoms of my depression show their ugly head, but with my new found strength I can handle them with pride. I now go to therapy once a month and of course I take my pills daily.

WHAT IS IN THE FUTURE?

I've mentioned many times how the mind can play tricks on us when we are sick. Sometimes it happens even though we are well, but when we're sick the mind becomes more troubled. We all at times think the worst before it actually happens or think we know what someone else is thinking when we don't. When we begin to do this more frequently and it leads to anxiety and stress, then it's a problem.

My mind did this frequently while I was sick. My friend didn't call. She hates me. She doesn't want to be my friend anymore. Now I'm going to be all alone all over again. She thinks I'm a worthless person. I can't even keep friends. My muscles tensed as tears slid down my face. I curled up in a corner and cried until my friend finally called. I couldn't see that maybe there was a good reason for why my friend didn't call on time. When she did call, she told me she had family over and didn't have a chance to call earlier.

If that wasn't bad enough, I started seeing my future as an endless pit. I even did this during my surgery. I am going to be in a lot of pain. I'll be stuck on crutches for two weeks. I will be unable to leave my house and we will be too broke to pay for my medication. My surgery will be awful and I will suffer. In the end, I was only on crutches for a couple days, I could afford my pain medication, and the pain wasn't that bad.

This type of thinking is called jumping to conclusions. It has two parts, mind reading and fortune teller. You can find this cognitive distortion in David D. Burns, M.D.'s book, Feeling Good The New Mood Therapy. Minding reading is where you predict what others are thinking. Fortune teller is where you predict the future before it happens.

In therapy I learned to look at the reason why a friend didn't call on time. The friend could have been busy, an unexpected guest could have shown up, her phone may not been working, or she may have forgotten. Most importantly, I learned to be patient and to take a deep breath. Sometimes I still fall back into my pattern and I have to remind myself to list the possible reasons for why a friend or family member didn't call or arrive when they said they would.

When I predict the future, I have to remind myself no one can tell what's going to happen. I must take each day as it comes. I have to tell myself to stop and wait and see what life brings me.

With hard work, you can take control of jumping to conclusions and fight them each time they occur. I remind myself there isn't always a negative side to the future, and I can't predict what others think.