I want to talk about my experience with EMDR, or Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing. I started it with my therapist a few weeks ago and so far the results have been amazing! If you’ve never heard of EMDR before it is a type of therapy used to help people heal and recover from traumatic events or things such as PTSD, anxiety, depression and panic disorders. It involves a lot of visualization and the therapist using side-to-side eye movements, sounds, taps or some sort of stimulation (my therapist uses buzzers I hold onto in each hand).
I’ve only had a couple of sessions working on EMDR with my PTSD and a little on my anxiety, but I’m already seeing the difference. Not only has it helped me get over panic attacks that have been triggered by PTSD faster, it has also helped diminish the severity and the feeling of panic had at all. I went months being severely affected by my triggers to almost not being affected at all anymore. I know I’m not completely out of the woods yet, but I have so much hope as I feel my quality of life improving.
If you are someone suffering from a traumatic event, PTSD, anxiety or depression or are struggling to heal wounds from your past, I suggest looking for a therapist trained in EMDR. Everyone is different and all therapies, medications, etc. work or don’t work for every individual, but I highly recommend this form of therapy. I am a skeptical person, but I also believe in giving things a try. If it works it is absolutely worth it. If not, you move on to find something else.
I will give updates on EMDR as I continue to work with my therapist on it.
Recently, in a conversation with someone I love, I realized that I write a lot more of the depressing than the happy or uplifting. It’s not necessarily because there is more depressing than good, but because of my need to write when I’m depressed. I guess you could say it’s a way to “purge” my soul.
When I was in high school I wrote a lot of poetry. Most of the time I wrote when I was depressed, and the poetry was depressing. But it was like therapy to me. It was something I needed to do. I think there is something about writing what I’m feeling, getting my thoughts on paper (or computer, these days) that help me understand or begin to sort what I’m going through. And that is important for me. It is needed.
Sometimes when I write about the struggles I go through, I try to do so with a question in mind. I hope that it will open a discussion with others who have felt the same way. I hope we can help each other by discussing different perspectives and things that have worked for or helped us. And it really, truly does help to know that we’re not alone, that we’re not the only one feeling a certain way or struggling with a certain thing.
I never want anyone to read my blog and go away feeling totally depressed and discouraged. I will try to write more about the good. I will try to write more about progress and hope. Because there is good, I do make progress–we all make progress–and there is hope.
Things can change day to day or week to week. I may not feel this way tomorrow. It’s not how I felt a couple of weeks ago. But it is how I feel right now.
The Bottomless Pit
I fall through the bottomless pit.
Down . . .
Down . . .
Down . . .
Deeper I go,
darker it gets.
Sometimes I hit a sharp, rocky bottom
and think it’s finally over,
only to find a false bottom that pulls out.
And I start falling again.
Down . . .
Down . . .
Down . . .
Into darkness I go,
the deeper it gets.
The bottomless pit.
Life has been so crazy lately. I feel like I’ve barely had time to breathe. Everything is GOGOGO! all the time, and I’ve been feeling very overwhelmed. I haven’t exercised much at all the past couple of months and have gotten so out of shape. But exercising is something that helps my depression. It helps me feel good, so I decided I have to do it. I have to make the time—for my own sanity and happiness.
I also started light/heat therapy again recently. My goal was to go at least twice a week, but lately it has been hard making it even once. My husband, however, has done a good job of helping me find time that I can go because he knows I need it.
It truly is important to take care of ourselves. It’s like the oxygen mask on the airplane. They tell you to put yours on first before you help someone else. You can’t help others if you’re passed out from lack of oxygen. I really do believe that if we are helping ourselves—doing the things that bring strength to our minds and happiness to our hearts—we will live better lives, not just for us, but also for those around us.
Yesterday was a struggle. There were too many thoughts crowding my head. Thinking of times I’ve been hurts, especially recently, and how I don’t know what to do about them. Several times at work I was on the brink of tears. Then some boys at the high school where I work brought me a flower—they bought enough to give every girl at the school—teacher, staff and student! It totally made my day.
Later, those same thoughts attacked me again. I was in the hall when I saw a group of students walking toward the counseling center. One of my neighbors, a sweet, beautiful senior, motioned to me to follow. She gave me a little hug and told me to come listen to them sing. It was one of the choirs. They sang a song for Valentine’s and sounded amazing! Again, my day was made by my wonderful neighbor thinking of me and the beautiful music the choir sang.
I was trying my best to feel good and think positively, but I was still a bit down when I got home. I was getting ready to leave for my light/heat therapy when a couple of other neighbors—girls my nine-year-old son’s age—stopped by with something from some women at my church. They were taking them around to everyone, but the girls stayed and chatted with me for a few minutes. They were so cute! And it totally made my day—yet again.
Three little things that were really big things. Things that I needed, things that helped so much. So I’ve again been reminded of how much the little things we do make a difference in the lives of others. We are needed. You are needed, no matter how much the lie of depression may tell you otherwise.
I’m about to be very vulnerable. And very honest. And it’s terrifying. But I’m tired of mental illness and suicide lurking in the shadows because people are afraid to talk about it or look it in the face. Maybe it will cost me, but I feel like I’ve lost just about everything already, so I don’t have much else to lose anyway.
Last night I cut myself. Like I used to long ago in high school when I first became depressed. I have been feeling completely worthless for awhile now. Feeling like I have no purpose and make no difference in life. All I seem to do is hurt others and screw up. So I cut myself to feel some other kind of pain. I cut myself because I believed I deserved it. And I seriously considered ending my life because I felt like everyone would be better off without me.
Some people will stop reading this now. They’ll pretend like they didn’t see it so things don’t have to be awkward when they see me. They’ll pretend they didn’t see it so they don’t have to talk to me about it. But things don’t have to be awkward, and it’s okay to talk about it. I’m still here. I’m still living my life the best I can. I’m trying to find even the littlest reasons to stick around and have hope, despite depression, despite anger, despite desperation.
This is life for many people. Some keep hurting themselves, some stop. Some choose to end their lives, some choose to keep living. In my opinion none of that determines whether a person is good or bad, sane or crazy, wonderful or evil, despite what stigma may say.
Some people will keep reading this. They may have questions. Ask them. They may be afraid. That’s okay. So am I. But I’d rather face the fear than live in silence.
I was so happy to see this article, https://www.ksl.com/article/50088066/huntsman-mental-health-institute-at-university-of-utah-dedicated, and learn of this new Mental Health Institute that is opening near where I live. I have continued to feel like mental illness and mental health challenges are getting ignored, and even attacked, since Covid hit last year. The only things so many people seem to care about or show concern over are Covid and politics. I was even attacked and purposefully publicly humiliated by family members for an article I posted on this blog about how the shaming people have been doing has added to an increase in depression and suicide.
It is good to know that there are still people who are actively working to help those of us with mental illness, actively working to make people aware, despite those actively working to silence our voices and harm and condemn us. Keep trying. Keep doing your best. We can make a difference.
Winter is in full swing and so is my seasonal affective disorder, or SAD. The cold, cloudy, dark days and nights have really gotten to me. Other stress is also weighing me down. I’ve been trying my hardest to stay out of the clutches of depression, but winter is an especially hard time for me. One thing that helps are the birds.
I live close to a Waterfowl Management Area, home to more than just waterfowl. It is a stop for migratory birds, and winter and spring is filled with them. I love going out there to watch them and take pictures of them. It doesn’t cure my SAD, but it at least gives me a little bit of joy in an otherwise bleak and dreary time.
What hobbies or things do you do to help yourself with your mental illness? I believe we all have something we can use or lean on to at least help a little.
Last week I reached a level of depression I hadn’t experienced in a very long time. I had wanted to focus on gratitude, but it was hard. It’s not that I wasn’t grateful. I thought of many, many things I had to be grateful for, I just couldn’t feel it in the depth of my depression. However, I still wanted to try.
I thought of this quote by Tim Keller a coworker shared in a meeting the week before. “It’s one thing to be grateful. It’s another to give thanks. Gratitude is what you feel. Thanksgiving is what you do.” I decided to do more than just think of what I was grateful for. I wanted to do something and see if it helped.
Even though I wasn’t feeling much of anything, other than despair and defeat, I wrote a bunch of little notes stating what I was grateful for about my husband, then placed them all over the house for him to find. It felt good. Seeing how much he appreciated finding them felt good. It didn’t completely take away the darkness and depression, but it did help to lift me from it. And it inspired me to do more.
Normally, I’m the type of person who keeps my head down and tries to avoid conversation with others when I’m at a store or in line to pay for my groceries. I worry having to make eye contact and talk to someone will trigger my anxiety. But I decided to step outside my comfort zone. I took my girls shopping for clothes the day before Thanksgiving. The person helping me asked if I had any plans for Thanksgiving. I answered her, then asked her if she had any plans. She smiled and replied, then we continued to have a wonderful conversation. She seemed really happy—maybe even grateful—when I told her I hoped she had a great Thanksgiving just before I took my bag of clothes and left. I had a similar conversation with a checker at the grocery store after Thanksgiving as I asked her how her Thanksgiving had been. We both smiled and she seemed genuinely happy that I had asked her questions and engaged her in a real conversation. I was happy, too!
Focusing on gratitude and then stepping outside my comfort zone and doing, rather than just thinking or feeling, really did make such a difference. I know it can be hard, but I encourage others to give it a try, too, and see what a difference it makes!
I found this quote by Albert Schweitzer. “Constant kindness can accomplish much. As the sun makes ice melt, kindness causes misunderstanding, mistrust, and hostility to evaporate.” Kindness is inspirational.
It was very hard on my mental health seeing how much judging others were doing at the beginning of the pandemic. As someone who’s depression suffered from the isolation, as someone who couldn’t “just wear a mask” because of my extreme anxiety I felt the need let others know how difficult this time was for those of us with mental illness and that things aren’t always as simple as they seem. Their hate and anger did nothing to inspire me. But kindness did.
When I found out I would have to wear a mask when I went back to work at the end of summer, I panicked. The first time I even tried to put a mask on I had a panic attack. I didn’t know what I was going to do. I thought I’d have to find a new job—one I could work from home where I wouldn’t have to wear a mask. I was so stressed and overwhelmed. I opened up to my coworkers about my anxiety, and they were so loving, accepting, understanding and kind. They all started suggesting things I could try and ways they might be able to help. Their love, support and kindness is what really inspired me to find my own solution so I could keep my job. That’s what led me to the silicone mask inserts that I wear beneath my mask. It is the only reason I can wear a mask.
Similarly, my daughter also struggled to wear a mask because of her anxiety. We tried so many different kinds of masks. We tried the same inserts I found, but nothing worked. Then I saw a coworker with a mask I’d never seen before. I asked her where she got it, and she told me she’d made it. She told me about her claustrophobia, and how these were the only masks she could wear without panicking. I told her I’d been looking for something for my daughter, and she volunteered to make her some masks. Pure and simple kindness, but such an inspiration!
Kindness, understanding, love and open-mindedness inspire, help, build up and allow “hostility to evaporate”. I think the only way to do this is to allow ourselves to see beyond our own perspective. We don’t have to change our beliefs, but we do need to try to understand each other and understand that we are all different. We have different experiences that have shaped who we are. We are not a one size fits all world. No matter how much we might think we understand someone else, until we really are walking their shoes we don’t see the whole picture. That’s why kindness is so important.
Walking through that door makes the blue a little lighter. She holds space as I gently spill. We sit, we talk - we water, dig and bury. Nurturing a shoot. Aiding it in light - to find its path through thorns - Malan Wilkinson