Houston, We Have a Problem

Weird day today. Seems a couple of guys decided that it would be fun to start fires as they traveled down I-5.

The question I am grappling with is, are they crazy or just plain evil? It has been extremely dry and hot this year and I fear the upcoming Fourth holiday for just these reasons. Who in their right mind would look for thrills by putting hundreds of thousands of lives in danger, not to mention taking up so much of first responders time and energy?

The smells of smoke and diesel are still strong in the air.

Why? Why? Why?

To quote my cousin, "Bloody ratbags!!!"

Me, me, me

It needs to be addressed right here and right now.

The tone of this blog has been about me.

Here is the thing. I cannot speak for others. I can only speak for myself about what the journey has been like. Therefore, I am feeling like I am being very self-centered. I guess in a lot of ways that is true. But the real truth is that I would love to hear of other people's journeys too. After all, it is different for each and every one of us. And it can be very instructive to hear other people's ways of dealing with it.

Still, my blog will probably stay quite self-centered as I weigh how others deal with similar issues. I will always try to apply them to the way I am dealing with things and I promise to share whatever knowledge I glean from that.

I believe that it is really important to develop a community to deal with whatever ails us and in this particular case it happens to be the disorder of depression. I know a very few people are watching and I welcome feedback.

Don't be shy. I am certainly trying to overcome that and be open. By the way, I have no idea who those people are who are logging into the blog. I get stats, but all they tell me is what country they come from (you would be surprised) and what operating system they are using. So it is totally anonymous.

Talk to you again tomorrow, unless the kitty litter box doesn't get emptied and I get too stressed about that. Over and out.

Building Houses

This man keeps me semi-sane. Here is our latest conversation about this blog.

At any rate, I think my next post is going to be on building houses. That will give you a good idea about what I mean when I say this list is mostly figurative or metaphorical or whatever the hell.

3 mins

On slashdot we always just use car analogies.

"Horace" • 2 mins

Hey, that's a good idea. I think I have an idea of something i could say on that one.

*scribbling on my list*

1 mi

There's still room?

"Horace" • Now

Sadly no, but I do have a brand new cigarette carton box top.

Anyway, away we go with the subject of building houses.

As I mentioned previously, my brother, sister and I would build houses out of two by fours on the lawn in the backyard. That is, we would build floor plans of houses. The interesting thing is that they nearly always turned out to be precisely the floor plan of the house we lived in. Young children can be a bit constrained that way.

However, one day I decided to switch it up and put the bedrooms on the other side of the house. Oh dear. What a mistake that was. In order for it to work the kitchen would have ended up in the living room and then where we supposed to put the Christmas tree? Turns out that architecture wasn't my true calling.

The brain, or at least MY brain, seems to work that same way. It developed to reflect precisely the way I was taught by my parents. And I didn't question it until much later. The brain gets stuck in its own little rut.

Naturally as I grew older I started to rebel and the kitchen ended up in the living room. The house I was building in my brain was an absolute mess. In order to set things straight I had to rely on a professional to help me discover a better brain architecture.

Fortunately, the kitchen is no longer in the living room and I have a place for the Christmas tree. Every once in a while, though, that dang kitchen still tends to stray a bit. Hope yours is staying put.

This

One last post before the weekend.

http://www.upworthy.com/it-took-a-mountain-of-courage-for-him-to-record-this-do-you-know-someone-who-needs-to-see-it?c=ufb1

He doesn't say one single word, but he says it all.

Making lists

Day before yesterday, I started to worry that I wouldn't have anything to talk about. Turns out I am a very opinionated person.

Woke up at 2 a.m. with this thought going through my head. So I grabbed a pen and tore off the top of my cigarette carton and started to make a list of what I wanted to say on a really strange list of subjects. See photo. Can you read it?

Yeah, me either. I can barely make out the list. I was scribbling it on that torn scrap against my knee.

The point is, we all have a lot to say on a lot of subjects. Depression or not, we have to just get it out there and the hell with where ever it goes from there. Personally, I need lists to keep me on the path. That is all.

P.S. I don't need to hear anything about the smoking issue. We will deal with that in our own good time.

Reflections

I have had nearly 24 hours to think back to when I first noticed that something was wrong. Yay, me!

I have always thought that it was when I was about 17, but then I remembered when my family first moved to the Seattle area. I was five at the time and remember that my brother and sister and I would be playing in the backyard, building "houses" out of two by fours on the lawn and I would feel an inescapable need to get away for a bit. Do you remember doing this or was it only my sibs and me who did it? At any rate, more about building houses in another post.

There was a small hill on the side of our house that was about ten feet or so from the neighbor's house that was completely shaded and isolated from the rest of the world, or at least that was the way it felt to me. I would go there and sit alone for a bit before coming back to play some more. I guess I just didn't have the words at that time to express what I was feeling.

Life is such an interesting journey. And rooting around in one's own brain can really bring some clarity to where none was before. Kinda like those clean windows that I seem to be obsessed with...

Next up; making lists and I have the proof!

Brain Storms

I was having a debate in my head. The debate was concerning how much I should reveal of past "circumstances." Suddenly my brain shouted at me, "What? Are you nuts?" To which I replied, "That is totally beside the point."

Here is the deal. Mental illness is the ONLY disease for which people, doctors included, ask you why you feel that way. Excuse me? Never once has a doctor asked me why I feel the way I do when I have had the flu or have had my asthma check up done. Nor does anyone else. It is taken for granted that there is something biologically wrong in those cases. Depression is the same.

In many cases, talk therapy and drugs help. In my case they didn't, hence this blog. I need to amend that last statement. What I meant to say was that the drugs didn't help. Talk therapy is wonderful, but pricey. I applaud those for whom therapy works. You are doing it right.

So, to get back to my original point,  my circumstances really make no difference and are irrelevant. Everyone loves a good, juicy story, but my history really doesn't serve to explain anything about this disease. It would have happened no matter what. Still, I may end up sharing a story to illustrate a point, but that is not the be-all and end-all of my struggle with depression.

Oh those muses

Just musing.

Imagine that everything is going really, really well and something comes along with a  little pinprick to let a bit of wind out of your sails. Pretty normal, right?

Okay. Imagine this. Instead of a little pinprick it is something that feels like a maniac with a chainsaw. That is a whole 'nother story. Yet sometimes that is the way it feels to we who have this disorder.

Here is what I personally feel like when that happens. I feel like the stump left behind by that chainsaw. My beacon of hope is to imagine myself as that stump and imagine that I will regenerate new offshoots from that stump. It gives me hope. If I can keep imagining regeneration, I can continue to live. Otherwise...

I meant to post this tomorrow, but it seemed so important tonight to get that off my chest. Today was a dirty dishes and sparkling clean windows day. Hope yours was of the sparkling clean windows variety.

Uh oh

Just invited the world into my world. That makes me feel exposed. Wishing I had a funny joke or something. That always seems to work in the real world. Deflects whatever I might be uncomfortable about. I like that. Not really, but it is easier. I am struggling with the idea of what pictures I might post. Hmmm. Dirty dishes in the sink when the day is bad?  Brilliantly clean windows when the day has been way too good? You tell me. What constitutes normal? I may even do both in the same day. Woohoo! What a ride this life is.

On the other hand...

Just coming, sort of, out of a manic phase. Not enough to really be posting sensibly enough yet, but hey, that is part of this disease. Had a conversation with hubby this morning when he sent me a link to a new Washington state law that would allow ambulance drivers to take people in need directly to mental health services rather than them having to go through the emergency room first. Sounds sensible to me. It would have saved us countless thousands of dollars. I realize that there is the question of not enough services for as many of us sufferers as are currently waiting for help, but this could help alleviate some of the problems we face. Bankruptcy for one.

This link explains it better than I ever possibly could in such a short post.

http://housedemocrats.wa.gov/june-robinson/keeping-people-with-mental-illness-out-of-emergency-rooms/

Oh, and about my manic phase? The house still isn't clean, but I have come up with some really creative dinners!

Self Pity and Anger

Okay. that was a joke. Not very funny, but we take it where we can. (the thing about the picture was definitely not a joke) but away we go. My story begins with the descent into hell with the innocuous idea that I thought I was doing just fine. Graduated high school. Went for secondary education. Came back home and, and, and. Found out I was not suited for the job as the criteria at the time didn't allow for a girl to do the job. Never mind that I graduated number one in the class. That was my starting point of how depression (which is chemical) got started in my brain.  Wait. That was an unintentional lie. It started way before that, but I was so young at the time that I didn't have words for it yet. Yeah there were some other factors, but more about them later. Here is what I really look like now. Hope you join me on this journey. 

Wow. That was fast. My actual picture was posted with the warning that I would be prosecuted if I revealed it.

This is me. Look pretty much like anyone else in society? This is the beginning of my story about the ascent into mental illness and hopefully health as the years go by. I am inviting all who are affected, either personally or as a caring other, to join our group.