Idontcare-itis

This past week I have come down with a serious case of Idontcare-itis. A fairly common ailment that can often occur in conjunction with depression. The layman's definition of this might be... "it doesn't really matter anyway, so why care?"

One side effect of Idontcare-itis is a lack of interest in pretty much anything and everything. This could be a key factor behind why I really do not have much to blog about this week... except perhaps that right now I don't care that I don't care.

You might want to get yourself vaccinated - so you don't risk catching it from me! And wearing a surgical mask might help protect you from the Idontcare-itis germs (plus you would look so cute wearing one!!)

Trust

Just trust yourself, then you will know how to live.
- Goethe

I must have been around 16 or 17-years old, and borrowed the family car to go to the local movie theater with a neighborhood friend. My Dad explicitly told me the conditions for borrowing the car - I was to drive to the theater and back, with no “side trips”. Instead, after the movie my friend and I decided to drive to the neighboring town for an ice cream treat - before heading back home. She and I had a great time, and really were not late in getting back home... so no problem, right? Little did I know that my Dad had gassed up the car earlier that very evening, and had the odometer reading recorded (keeping detailed vehicle records like he always did). I was duly informed the next day that I would not be allowed to borrow the car again, until I had earned back my parent’s trust. I had not followed through with my part of the bargain, and didn’t even bother to inform my parents what I had done - resulting in the loss of trust.

Trust is a principle I have really pondered about lately. Trust in God, trust in other people, and especially trust in myself. It is difficult for me to trust in my own thoughts and feelings. This comes after many years of thought betrayal and distortion - due to the clouds of depression.

In the past I have been completely convinced of something, only to discover through study and therapy the distorted untruthfulness. This is one area where Cognitive Behavioral Therapy can really help... to wade through the distorted thoughts and finally discover the truth. It has been a struggle to trust my own feelings and thoughts - not really believing that I have earned the right to trust myself again.

I have recently been praying for help with a certain decision, and have experienced feelings (positive and negative) regarding each path to take. Yet even with positive feedback of one choice, over the negative of another... I still looked for confirmation from a source outside myself.

Not trusting in my own feelings, I counseled with my Bishop (congregation faith leader). I explained to him what the choices were, and how I was searching for an answer to my prayers. In talking with him about the positive and negative feelings I had experienced - he kindly informed me that these feelings were the answer to my prayers.

This has been a wakeup call. Recognizing that lack of trust in myself - was in actuality an expression of lack of faith or trust in the Lord. When I can trust again in my own thoughts and beliefs - then I am ready and available to honestly and openly put my faith in the Lord, and trust in the guidance He so willingly offers.

Am I ready and able to start trusting myself? I certainly hope so!

Blind wanderings

In elementary school I once read a book about a young boy who became blind in an accident involving fireworks. I was fascinated with the story of how he learned to cope with his eyesight loss, learned to read braille, and was finally teamed with a seeing eye dog.

After a long day in school, as I frequently walked alone the four blocks home, I would close my eyes - attempting to understand what it would be like to be blind. I had no cane of course, so would try to have one foot brush the grass lawn along the sidewalk as I walked. With closed eyes it seemed to take so much longer than I thought possible to walk from one yard to the next. Frequently I would end up "cheating" by opening an eye slightly to regain my orientation - and view how much further it was to the next driveway or street corner.

Life was so much simpler as a child than it is as an adult. Now as I walk along life’s path, I am regularly unable to see the way before me - and there is no easy option available to crack open an eye to gain a point of reference. My eyes are already wide open, but unable to see much through the darkness. Sometimes a counselor or friend will walk by my side for a few precious steps, helping to direct with a guiding word here or there - briefly illuminating part of the path with their inner light.

Most of the time I seem to be alone, floundering along stubbing toes and cracking shins on unseen obstacles. In faith I know that I am never truly alone on this path. Even more so than mortal friends - my Savior is always there to guide and help me, with His hand always outstretched.  I can look back on the path trodden, and clearly see places where the outcome would have been very different if not for His guidance through the roughest parts.

It is one thing to look back, to see and know in your mind - and quite another to have the ability to feel in the present. The most depressing part of clinical depression is the tremendous difficulty, or inability, to feel or recognize guidance and blessings of the Spirit in the moment. When I most need to feel God’s will, and know in my heart that I am loved by Him - depression clouds my ability to perceive that comfort.

So I continue stumbling forward (and I admit, sometimes a bit sideways) on life’s path...

• able to see the past
• darkness obscuring the future
• alone in the present
• not really alone, but numb

Eye-lights

Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk
beach & partial view of roller coaster

Summertime! Summertime when in my mid 20’s and living in California, always meant trips to the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk. Not a ton of rides like some other amusement parks, but seriously probably the best wooden roller coaster ever!!  And of course there is the whole boardwalk atmosphere, with a great beach on which to flop down to enjoy the waves and sunshine!

Inevitably my friends and I would stop at a carnival type booth where you paid a couple of dollars to have the guy guess either your weight, or your age (within 10-lbs or 5-years). Ain’t nobody gonna get me to step on a scale in public to verify my weight... ‘nuff said! So I would consistently opt for the age guess. I always, always, won that contest - and received many a cheap prize at the boardwalk as a result.

People have never really been able to accurately guess my age... which can be a blessing, and a curse. A blessing because, what woman wouldn’t want to look younger than they really are, and seem to age somewhat gracefully? A curse because sometimes people just don’t take you seriously when they probably should... thinking you are a young flibbertigibbet or something. It’s not as bad now as it used to be, because now at least people think I am a more mature sensible mid to late 30’s (yeah, you might want to tack 10-years onto that number!).

There is one more thing about me that other people just cannot seem to correctly interpret either. That would be my eyes. Yes, I said my eyes... they don’t really tell the whole truth. My counselor told me, last year when I started seeing her for clinical depression therapy... that people would not believe me if I told them I have severe depression (heck, they wouldn't believe mild depression either). She said there is a certain light in my eyes which belies what is beneath. Leading others to think all is well with me, and most certainly never clinical depression.

The lesson here is... don’t base opinions on what you see on the surface! That is most likely not the true or whole story for a good number of people! Especially for one such as me, who have become skilled in hiding behind masks... even while leaving my eyes always in full view.

Lessons from the Grand Canyon

(disclaimer: photos blatantly stolen... um, make that borrowed... from the internet)

Once upon a time, about 20 years ago, a roommate and I traveled southward to see the sites of the Grand Canyon. It was my first time to see in person that true wonder of nature. A highly anticipated mule ride to the inner rim of the canyon was also on the agenda!

Bright Angel Trail

That morning as our mule train started down the steep switchback Bright Angel Trail - I was seriously reminded of my great fear of heights! With one leg seemingly dangling over the edge of nothingness, and the other fairly close to the wall!! I tried to keep breathing while holding tight to the saddle pommel, and anxiously repeating the same words over and over in my mind... "If the Brady Bunch could take a mule ride into the canyon, then so can I." It certainly didn’t help to listen to the mule guide inform us in detail of the trail dangers - or read the warning signs posted at the trailhead. After awhile I was finally able to relax a bit, breathe normally, and really enjoy the journey and spectacular scenery - once I decided that I could trust my mule to get me there and back safely.

It was an overcast day with light mists of precipitation helping to keep us somewhat cool along the way, but not enough to make the trail muddy. Finally we arrived at the inner rim, and a rest area (with actual flushing toilets of all things!!). We could walk... ur, make that waddle from being in the saddle too long... to the edge of the inner rim and gaze down at the majestic Colorado River, winding its way through the bottom of the canyon.

The weather didn’t changed much during the whole trip, and soon it was time to head back... up the trail. We paused frequently along the way giving the mules bits of rest, and as instructed we were to always turn the mule facing into the canyon for a rest break. A mule might backup and take an accidental plunge over the edge, but would never walk forward and fall with the edge danger so clearly in their sight.

Trail switchbacks

Just over half-way up, while resting the mules at one of the switchback bends in the trail - a loud crack was heard overhead. Thinking it might be thunder, everyone looked upwards. There was no sign of lighting, but there were a few rocks beginning to tumble down from the upper rim, the start of a rockslide - headed for the winding trail just above and below us. To our amazement, a large slab slowly separated from the rim, swiftly gaining momentum as it hurtled down the side of the canyon, picking up other rocks of all sizes with it along the way. This large slab slammed hard into the trail just above us, and launched itself clear of the trail into the canyon below. The other loosened rocks continued their assault, cascading down the side of the canyon wall.

Our group was off to one side, not in the direct path of the rock avalanche, in a position allowing a prime view of nature’s destructive forces playing out before our eyes. Clearly seeing hikers on the trail below us, we all attempted yelling out warnings of the rockslide, and for them to hug the canyon wall for shelter.

Some people quickly heeded the shouted warnings and moved to points of more relative safety. But there in the middle of the trail were two people looking around, not sure what they should do. It was truly traumatic to watch both of them hit by falling rocks. Rescuers were quickly sent from both the bottom and top of the trail to assist any wounded, and assess the integrity and safety of the trail before allowing any of the visitors to continue on. We were instructed to remain sitting on our mules, and could only helplessly watch the trained efforts of others.

I will never forget the shock and sadness of what I witnessed; one of the people I saw hit with rocks was fatally wounded, pronounced dead on the scene. What a vivid visual reminder of how fleeting mortality really is, and how it can be cut short unexpectedly at any time.

Lessons I have learned from this at first fun and exciting, then turned horrific, event at the Grand Canyon are...

• Keep a watchful eye on the dangers of the trail edge to avoid an unintended misstep, which can cause serious injury or even death.
• Pay heed to the warning signs and words of instruction from those guides who know the path well. Listen to those ahead on the path, for they may see something coming others are not aware of yet.

How do these mule ride lessons translate to my life today?

• Hold tightly to and follow the iron rod running along life’s trail - it is the word of God and will lead to a place of joy and happiness. Keep a watchful eye on influences and dangers which can lead to a misstep causing serious injury, even spiritual death.
• Pay special heed to the warnings and instruction given by prophets and leaders of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints - for they have a clear and inspired view of the path ahead. They will lead the way to points of safety, by helping to avoid unseen dangers.

Much of the time I find life's trail is obscured by mists of darkness and depression. These are obstacles which I have been given to learn from, and to navigate through. I do much better in my journey when I remember the lessons learned from past experiences - and from the wisdom contained in the words of the prophets. Even knowing this, I still have moments when I loose myself, stumble and fall. Humbled, knowing I will not make it to the top alone, while on my knees I cry out in pain, I cry out in prayer. I know that God will always lift me up (whether I am aware of it consciously or not), sending rescuers when needed to bind my wounds and assist me on my way.

Donuts anyone?

Years and years ago, I remember going to the Salt Lake Donut Co. with my Mom. They were very serious about their donuts, and made them for all sorts of grocery and other retail stores in the area. They did not sell to the public, but did allow people to come in and purchase their donut mistakes - or "cripples" as they called them. That is not a very nice, or politically correct, term today. However, back then it was just how they referred to donuts which were considered to be "seconds" (not first choice).

Those were the donuts which did not quite make the grade - something was wrong with them, and they were not considered suitable for selling to the public at large. But for a considerable discount, anyone could buy a big ol’ box of them. The secret was timing the visit to obtain the best type of rejected donuts they had (chocolate was always very popular).

I often see myself as comparable to a rejected donut - and that’s not just referring to my shape, mind you (hey, round is a shape!). No, it’s that I perceive there is something wrong with me - that I just don’t quite make the grade. The greater majority of all of the other donuts (aka: people) that I know are top shelf, first grade. Whereas I see myself as analogous to a leftover second reject.

For someone who is fairly blind (for whatever reason) to what I can plainly see in the mirror everyday -- they may happily conclude that I am okay, with perhaps some weirdness issues (as everyone seems to have).

For myself, I see a discounted misshapen donut with missing or deformed icing - and notice all the irregular bumps and cracks. I know that I can fit myself into society to a certain extent - but I do not believe that I really belong there. I do not believe that I can truly be of service to others. I do not believe I am worthy to be the recipient of service. I do not really believe others when they give me compliments. And I do not believe I deserve to be anything more than what I am... a crippled defective person (who sometimes tries to cover her, oh so obvious, faults with attempts at humor).

Currently I am working on my sad excuse for a self image, but I am certain it is going to take a very long time to alter my point of view. With lots of prayer, proper counseling, and seeking insights from good books... maybe, perchance, conceivably, in the realm of possibility... (step away from the thesaurus!)

Right now I certainly lack faith in believing I will overcome this - but hold onto the hope that eventually I will. How much does my point of view affect and influence ongoing periods and episodes of serious depression? How much does the depression affect my self image? I am not convinced it is a "which came first, chicken or the egg" type scenario -- but more of a symbiotic growth, which needs a good vaccine!

Cancer

There is no easy way to put this, so I will just simply say it... I have cancer. It can be very a virulent and debilitating disease - with no sure outcome.

What are the first thoughts upon hearing the word, "cancer"? Probably something along the lines of... cancer is a horrible physical and painful disease, which needs immediate treatment by professionally trained clinicians!! Get thee to a doctor, post haste!!

Not all cancer needs, nor receives, the exact same treatment. Each instance of cancer is fully unique to the carrier and their specific circumstances. There are a multitude of methods to treat cancer; it is never a "one chemo, or radiation, therapy fits all" disease. The type and intensity of therapy is ultimately jointly decided upon between a clinician and the patient.

Ah, but there are always the inevitable non-clinician and non-trained people in life - who have had a form of cancer in the past - and out of sincere empathy offer to others their "golden solution" and "cure" for this disease. A promised cure can be had, if it is truly desired. It worked for them, so it will surely work for others too.

What they apparently do not fully understand is that everyone's cancer, though seemingly similar on the surface, is totally unique and individualized on a cellular level. Therapy and actions which completely eliminate the disease for one, may never be fully efficacious for another.

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Okay okay, please don’t have a heart attack! I do not really have "cancer". But I do have clinical depression - for which I substituted the word "cancer" in the above scenario (sorry if I scared you, honest). Doing this simple word-switch makes a difference in how an illness is viewed and reacted to. In reality both cancer and depression have levels of seriousness and severity, which should be dealt with in an appropriate and individualized manner. Plus there is always the possibility or hope of a remission.

I have gone in and out of clinical depression "remission" a number of times over the past 30+ years. Through a lifetime of experiences with my specific type of depression, I instinctively have grown to know what will work best for me in certain situations.

A couple of weeks ago, I was once again faced with the devastating thoughts of how easy suicide would be - and how it would provide a release from the unspeakable pain that depression brings. I knew that I would not act on these thoughts, just as I had not acted on similar thoughts in the past. But that does not lessen the intensity or reality in any way.

I suppose the mistake I made this time was attempting to reach out to certain people for desired support. This is something I have not really done in the past - pretty much keeping the full truth of such dark thoughts to myself. From some dear friends there was understanding in a "been there" way, accompanied by sincere sweet words of comfort which really did help in the moment (thank you my friend for your timely IM words that night).

For others there was more of the knee-jerk scared angry reaction of "how dare you give into temptation and entertain such thoughts... you know better than that". I understand that the cruel inflections and words spoken in the heat of the moment (purely based on own personal thoughts and past experiences), were given with a measure of love. A "golden solution" and "cure" was being offered, because it worked for them so certainly it must work for others too.

This dichotomy of reactions were confusing to say the least... leaving me not knowing exactly what to think, whom to ever again trust with personal thoughts, or which direction to turn. When confronted by such feelings, I did what I always try to do - turn to words of wisdom from the scriptures, and inspired leaders of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Taking guiding insightful thoughts from my clinical counselor into my search, I found these words of wisdom, comfort and help...

Our choice is in deciding whether to defy or succumb to temptation, not in whether to have the temptation itself. ~Ensign, Sept 2004

From this I understand that it isn’t so much that I have such temptations and thoughts, but my choices and actions subsequently taken are what really count.

When any unworthy desires press into your mind, fight them resist them, control them. The apostle Paul taught, "There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it" (1 Cor 10:13).

That may be a struggle from which you will not be free in this life. If you do not act on temptations, you need feel no guilt. They may be extremely difficult to resist. But that is better than to yield and bring... unhappiness.  ~Boyd K. Packer

Sad to say, thoughts of suicide are not a new thing for me. I have had such thoughts for almost as long as I can remember - and I may always struggle at times with similar thoughts. It does not make me a bad or defective person because another's solution does not work - it just means that my type of depression does not originate from the same source. At first glance depression can appear as similar on the surface, but is vastly different in nature and needed actions or treatment.

I know from previous experience with dark thoughts that I need to separate myself from the "temptations" - doing that helps me resist and control thoughts. In the past I have had to physically remove myself from certain situations - stepping back from the precipice so to speak. This time I physically removed things in my home, rather than removing myself. Leftover pain medications, from a previous surgery, were promptly and properly disposed of. A handgun, with ammunition, was placed in a secured safe-type lock-box, and the keys given to a good friend. Out of sight, out of reach, out of mind was the motto of the day.

I felt so much better after taking these simple steps, like a dark weight had been removed from my shoulders. Also, being able to meet again with a trained counselor to discuss certain thoughts and feelings has really helped too. How fortunate and blessed among people I am to be given necessary strength and counsel from professional and understanding loved ones when I need it the most.

When people ask me, "what can I do to help?" - my only answer is to just continue as a friend, and don't run away... because depression is not a communicable disease.

Vortex

"Just when you think you're out, they pull you back in. " ~Michael Corleone, Godfather III

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Depression can be very much like the mafia. When you think you're making progress, and life can once again possibly be filled with some bit of color and sunshine - you get pulled back into the black vortex of depression. You begin to believe that this is just the way that life is, that there is no escape - and you'd just better get used to it.

But I have faith. "Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." ~Hebrews 11:1

Faith that somehow, someday, I can overcome depression's tightfisted hold. Faith that I need to be patient, as my desired timing may not be God's timing. Faith that there is a better and brighter everyday future ahead somewhere.

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." ~Psalms 23:4

Even when I walk through this valley of shadows and mists, I must not fear the now. But look with faith to the future. A future when all will be made right in my little world. Without this faith, I have no hope. When all hope is lost, then your life is indeed dark and totally without purpose. I choose to hope, I choose to have faith.

And as I say these things, there is still a part of me that doesn't fully believe it. Such is the power of the vortex darkness - and it is not easily overcome. To tell someone with depression to "snap out of it" - is tantamount to telling a blind person to "just look harder" and they'll see it. It is not a path I would choose to be on, but it is the path I must walk (like it or not).

Spaghetti parable

The first food spillage on my new carpet happened the other day. Like that first ding on a brand new dream car, or a tear in your favorite jacket - it can be a traumatic experience. And of course it had to be spaghetti, oh dear!!

Everything happened in such perceived slow motion - but obviously not slowly enough to have sufficient time for grabbing the plate. It was a heart stopping moment as I watched it plop on the floor.

There it was - pasta with tomato sauce oozing into the carpet fibers. A red stain already in process before I could get the mess shoved back onto the plate. Grabbing paper towels and clorox wipes, I was able to lift off most of the sauce from the carpet. Each towel and wipe used so briefly before grabbing a fresh one - and each one in turn immediately transforming from pristine white to red.

Hoping there was carpet cleaner in the broom closet - I yanked open the door. And there it was, a gleaming never before used can of carpet cleaner! I hastily read the instructions, and followed them as best I could. I dare anyone to find the mishap spot now!!

As I thought back on this event, I have reflected on how there are parallels to repentance and the atonement of Jesus Christ. The process of repentance is analogous to my trying to use paper towels and wipes in cleaning up the mess. There was a small degree of success, and it was certainly much better than immediately after the spillage. However, to be fully successful required the cleaning power contained in the can of cleaner. It was that which truly lifted the stain, and restored the beauty of the carpet.

In life we can do all that is within our own power and abilities to repent from our mistakes. But it is only through the power of the atonement - given us with eternal love by sacrifice of Jesus Christ - that we can fully clean and lift the stains from our body and soul.

...though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool. ~Isaiah 1:18

How grateful I am for the blessed gift of the atonement in my life. Without this, I could never with my own efforts alone be able to clean away my sins sufficiently to once again stand in the presence of my Heavenly Father. It is my greatest desire to again be enfolded in His loving arms, and to hear Him say... "Welcome home, daughter."

April showers

Recently I read about someone who had a brain tumor. They were told that there was high risk involved with surgery, and the outcome could not be guaranteed. On the other hand, if no surgery was done - then death would come in a few short months. The person opted for surgery and is doing well now.

I sat and pondered this scenario for several minutes before coming to the stark conclusion that, faced with a similar situation, I would totally forgo surgery. I think this must be one reason why I have been given relatively good physical health, when compared to others that is. Oh how easy it would be to just let nature take its course, and offer a fairly quick sweet release from living in hades (for that is how I often view this mortal realm). Apparently someone has a reason for my still being here - I just wish I knew what the heck it is.

If you have read some of my past blog postings, you will know that I have gone in and out of clinical depression since I was a teenager. If I tell you that this year I will turn 46 - perhaps it will give you an idea how long of a battle it has been. Sometimes I just get so tired of swimming against the strong current of depression. Looking back, this time last year was by far the most intense and darkest episode of depression I have ever experienced. I am in a better place now than I was then, thanks to counseling and medication - both things for which I am grateful. But being in a better place does not mean the depression is gone - just tempered.

With quickly approaching anniversaries containing painful reminders - I worry about memories triggering a descent into darkness once again...

• May 8 - Mother's day
  (my Mom is gone - I am not, nor will I ever be, a Mom)
• May 15 - Mom's birthday
  (she would have been 77 this year)
• May 19, 2006 - Dad's death day
  (five years ago this year)
• May 20, 2002 - Mom's death day
  (my parents died four years, and one day apart)
• May 30 - Memorial day
  (a day to remember the dead)

So far so good, no severe depression events or serious suicidal thoughts, But I do really want to either run away (and not stop) - or just sleep through everything (which is itself a form of running away). It has not been a good week (and it is not even close to being over).

One bright spot is that I have hired someone to take care of my yard work for me this summer. I have zero motivation to work in my ugly yard this year (not even planning on a veggie garden either). The cost will be so worth it, even if it means I'll be eating ramen or oatmeal for a few months to help pay for it ;-)

Well, it's getting close to midnight, and I'm finally tired enough that I can quickly fall asleep. Lately I've been staying up late to tire myself out - which seems to be a better alternative to laying in bed letting my thoughts drift around before finally falling asleep. I still wake up about the same time every morning (darn internal alarm clock) - and I've never been a morning person. So watch out! I'm sleep deprived and cranky... approach with caution!