You Again? #Depression

Depression is such an interesting phenomenon, isn't it?

It has so many variables from person to person. There's not just one type, is there? No. There's literally hundreds that manifests in so many different ways within it's hosts. Some stays are for days, some are for weeks, months, or even decades. Some drag it's host to the ground and keep them there for long periods at a time, others are able to walk around, but with a feeling of a heavy burden weighing them down with each laborious step.

I do write a lot about depression. I suffer from my own type. I speak from my own experience from my own struggle with illness, because this is how I cope. Maybe your experience won't match mine at all. That's okay. With the unique way my brain is wired neurologically I have come to expect it likely won't. I'll write about it anyway, and possibly someone might see bits of themselves within these words and at least know they're not the only one experiencing them.

Why Hobbies are Valuable

I like to write.

If I could I'd write everyday.  I do inside my head. I compose blog entries and think up ideas for books I'll never write all day long. I wash the dishes, and vacuum the floors to stories untold that flash inside of my mind's eye disappearing before I can gather my thoughts into buckets of coherence in order to pour them out onto pages to share with others. It's not the collecting, but the holding that is the problem. As the daily tasks tick by the buckets leak my ideas, and by the time I slide into place before my computer screen the blinking cursor is taunting me. Blink.....Blink....Blink.....  A blank screen awaits my words, but I only remember quarter entries and half ideas. When I try to put them back together again it's like trying to put a puzzle together starting from the middle. It's difficult and I often can't find the words, so I end up moving onto to something else, usually going to bed.

So, many, or maybe I should say most days I don't write anything. I don't necessarily like it this way,  and I always think I'll do better the next day, and then I don't. I simply don't have time in the daily schedule to stop and write every time inspiration strikes, or a quiet moment to concentrate even if I did get a moment of downtime. Then I question how much it matters. How much does blogging really matter in the grand scheme of anything, really? I mean, I don't get paid to write. It's just something I like to do that is like a hobby for me and let's me connect with others. (And, no this isn't a solicitation for a paid blogging position, because there's always a catch in there where have to sell something that I feel will make me come across as less than genuine to my readers, so I'm not interested in that sort if thing.) Do these words matter that I am typing right now? Are there better, more productive ways to spend my time than this?

I guess there really isn't any solid answers to any of those questions, because they are a matter of perception. Maybe for some it does seem like a waste of my time to put so much effort into something I will likely never see any monetary gain from. I don't find that everything valuable in life can be measured by monetary value, though. Well being has a heavy value in my life, which carries with it many different facets. Mental health is a huge chunk of that. When I speak of feeling well I can be referring to many different feelings, both on a physical level and on a more emotional level.

What If-ing Autistic Kids

If you're a person that has ever gone into therapy for any kind of anxiety issues you know at least a little bit about what catastrophizing is. If not, it's basically taking a worse case scenario of in an imagined situation, and running with it. The foundation for the situation may be real. Something like maybe your boss emailed wanting to see you in their office this afternoon. But if you have anxiety issues you might then begin to "just know" they're going to reprimand you, fire you, yell at you about last week's performance, and so on.... That would be catastrophizing. It's actually fairly common among most people, I would think, and most of us can probably get this kind of irrational thinking under control before it interrupts our lives to a serious degree. We recognize that we're worrying over something we can't control,  and from such a negative point of view that it's a piss poor time to spend our emotional energy, so we redirect our thoughts, and continue on with our day. Unless, of course, one cannot,  then maybe we might decide to see a professional to help us learn to do so.

But what happens when we encounter catastrophizing coming from others around us? What if, instead of this being unhealthy it's actually considered the norm in certain environments?  Would you recognize it for what it is? Or would you go with the social convention that has taken place in this circle of people? What would you think about an environment that not only encouraged, but saw no other way but to plan for the absolute worst case scenario?

Let me then introduce you to what it is like to be a parent of an autistic child.

Altering My Time Spent

I've never been much of a T.V.  watcher. I do like a few shows, but in my spare moments as brief as they come and go, I like to do rather than just be. This can mean a variety of activities, but what it isn't is me sitting idle for very long. I literally can't. So, it goes without saying I'm not a Netflix binger.

Yet, I often find myself wasting my time idling away the minutes, because I only have maybe 10 here or 5 there to spare. Not enough to begin a new project, but I will need to do a new thing or be a new place in a few minutes. It's a constant low level of frustration for me, to be honest. I am a project planner and finisher, well inside my head I am. In reality I am a frayed mother, a caregiver with chronic illness who is often burning the candle at both ends, but trying to learn to only burn it at one, even if it's a hard process to learn. It goes against the mindset of my constantly busy goal setting brain. My perfectionist self would have me living in a white glove house, perfect manicure, never missing a workout, volunteering for charities, and more. I don't know who that person is, but I make a to-do list for her every day. Hahaha.

I'm finding these few minute gaps in my day to be the most challenging to fill, as odd as it seems. I used to really enjoy spending a few minutes here and there throughout the day checking in on social media. I'd pop in, chat with friends, post a little and be on my way. Now it's a litany of angry political posts, and clickbait articles with mean comments underneath. So, I scroll and I scroll hoping to find

The Only Way Out is Through

In my last post I talked about migraines, and perceiving life differently. That was about two weeks ago now. In the interim I did see the doctor who has referred me to a neurologist, but as many of us know.... this can take a minute. In the meantime, she wanted to see how I would do on a medication that I have tried before, but possibly this time at a higher dose.

The answer is groggy, irritable and nauseated. Ugh.

Though, I am holding out hope that these side effects might let up a bit after some time passes as often happens with medications. It's too early to know yet if it's helping or not, but it does seem to be at least a little. With the increasing frequency of migraines along with the level of interruption it's bringing to my life even a little relief is welcome.

As I also mentioned in the last post, I am also working toward greater well being and mental health in general. In particular, taking more responsibility for my own well being by being more honest with myself on how effectively I am approaching daunting tasks in my life. As I set out to do this, to apply the ideas I spoke about in the last post I realized something big.

It was hard.

Yeah, I know Captain Obvious, right? Of course making changes to one's behavior is hard. But no, I mean it was hard.