A Little Bit Less Down Is A Little Bit Up

A good therapist is makes life so much more bearable!  I have been lucky enough to find someone who tends to lift me up, even during sessions that lack excitement or discovery of insight.  My therapist inspires me to try, even on the darkest of days.  So I'll try.  I'll keep going, putting one foot in front of the other, I'll keep taking steps to move forward even when all I want to do is lay down and die.  That's what a good therapist can do.

I'm feeling less sluggish today.  Still tired and a bit down, but a bit less down.  And that could also be considered a bit up, couldn't it?  I wish I knew what is causing the difference.  My husband asked me that and I have no answer for him; I'm just less down today.  My new medicine (in my ever-growing cocktail) isn't supposed to have an effect for several weeks, so I doubt it's that.  Maybe it's sex.  Maybe it's random chance.  Maybe my cold is causing all the problems and I'm finally getting over my cold.  Maybe it's an answer to my prayers or the alignment of the stars.  I just don't know.  And the only reason I'm dwelling on this is because I want to keep moving in the direction of a little bit up.  I am grateful for the small bit of relief I'm feeling and am greedy and want to feel more.  Unfortunately, I don't know what the answer is.  It's frustrating and I'd better move to a different topic before I lose my little bit up.

One thing my therapist wants me to do is to start exercising.  I was doing fairly well for a while, but I've stopped.  I think I'll try running. I used to run (well, shuffle, really, but it's running for me) and even ran a marathon.  I think its time to start running again.  I know winter is a great time for that!  Oh well, I'll start with a mile tomorrow and see where I go from there.  And maybe I can get into exercising enough that I can back off the meds a bit, or altogether.  Who knows?  But for now, I'll plan on running a mile and see what happens.  One day at a time.  One little bit up at a time.

Damn, This Sucks

I think I went about 8 days or more feeling good; then several more weeks not feeling depressed.  But I'm back to depressed.  Damn, this really sucks.  I'm having some strange reactions to the medication (at least that's what I'm assuming) and the worst one is that I'm feeling very sluggish, in thoughts, words and actions.  It's left me feeling dull, slow and apathetic.  Plus I'm not sleeping well, so being tired is complicating the sluggishness.  I'm finding it really difficult to even write.

So what does my doctor want to do?  Add more medications into the mix.  I can't decide how I feel about that.  I guess I'll try it for a little while longer--try to get an effective combination.  But he says that it may be several weeks before I get some relief.  Big sigh.  I needed relief months ago, years ago even.  So what's another couple of weeks?

There were a lot of things I was going to write, but I can't seem to draw my focus. It's probably best I end for now and try and pull my thoughts together another time. 

4 Days and Counting

I am going on my 3rd week of being on a therapeutic dose of lithium.  I've had a week of feeling better and 4 days now of actually feeling good.  However, I'm tired tonight and a small voice inside of me is saying that I'm getting depressed again; this is because so much of my depression was tied to exhaustion, so I don't know how to feel tired but still feel fine or good.  I'm trying hard to just be tired and not over-analyze everything.

Today I found out that my nephew, who is only 10 years younger than me, is going into rehab for drug use.  He's married to this wonderful woman and has 4 darling children and I ache for him and his family.  This makes me wonder about the different problems we have to face.  There was a time. not so long ago, that I wanted to trade someone problems, just to be finished with the depression.  But I think about the extreme difficulties dealing with addictions and I'll stay with my depression, thank you very much. 

The amount of human suffering in the world is unimaginable.  When I stop and think about all the people, each with their own set of circumstances, each with their own grief, I feel guilty about my own depression because it's not caused by horrible circumstances or really bad choices made by myself or someone else.  It seems to be just mindless suffering, without a strong cause and without a real reason.  Anyway, I'm grateful I'm at least at a point right now where I can feel sorrow for someone else's problems.  A few months ago I couldn't have felt this overwhelming sadness for someone else because all I could feel was sadness in general.

So I'm almost 5 days into feeling much better and I'm not sure where to go with my thoughts and with blogging.  How does one relearn happiness if happiness (or at least lack of depression) seems to come in the form of a pill?  I struggle with this a lot--what is contentment, or happiness, or feeling good, for me, if the majority of it all seems to be a question of biochemistry?  I guess if that's truly how I feel, however, I've been wasting a lot of time and money in therapy.  And I don't think that's been a waste.  But I just don't know where the intersection between biochemistry and choice or behavior is.  Feeling good is as confusing as feeling bad!  Maybe it's just me and my tendency to over-analyze everything.  But it will be interesting to get reacquainted with myself in my non-depressed state.  It's been a long time and I don't remember her all that well.  I hope I like her.

As I read over this it feel disjointed and lacking in a clear theme.  But maybe it's the case where the form is a manifestation of the theme.  My confusion and concern about feeling good is close to the surface for me, so I guess it's okay to have a blog that is confusing as a representation of what I'm going through.  The confusion is real, but it's good.  I like having these new questions to deal with.  Let's just wait and see how long this can keep going.

Life Without Depression

Over the last 3 days I have started a therapeutic dose of my new medication.  I know it's too early to tell if there will be any change, but I'm anxiously waiting.  The thing is, I don't know what I'm waiting for.  Maybe I'll experience more energy, maybe the ability to focus more, and could I possibly hope for feeling more happy?  I'm still very confused about what causes happiness.  I know it's not situations or anything external, because if it was I would be happy right now and I know of too many stories of people who have found peace in extremely horrible external conditions.  Of course, peace and happiness are two different things, but they're sort of related.  I would settle for either one.

When I stop and think about it I realize that I am not sure what I want or expect from my life without depression.  And I am afraid to hope for a life without it.  But what does a life without depression look like, what do I want out of my life without depression?  For starters, I want more energy.  I want satisfaction in the activities I participate in.  It would also be nice to be able to do everyday activities (taking care of the house and yard) without a struggle. For example, doing the dishes or taking out the garbage without requiring a huge amount of effort and internal debate.  I would like to be able to enjoy my children.  It would be nice if the energy required for relationships just flowed out of me rather than having to be squeezed out of me every time.  I would like to feel desire and energy to finish my PhD.  I'd like to laugh more.  It would be good to get a bit of my self-confidence back.  And honestly, I'd like to feel happy more often than not.  I would like to know what normal feels like for normal people.  Anyone have any suggestions?

Seeing Through Fog

I thought I'd try writing about what is good in my life:
(sitting and thinking. . .)
This is hard right now, because anything I think of just feels trite, not honest.
Honestly I know I have a lot of good in my life, but the fog of depression keeps me from seeing my life clearly.  My life and the people in it lack clarity and focus; so my list of things that are good in my life might include "my children, my husband, my dogs, friends, and medical advances in brain biochemistry."  These would all be true, but they are too broad to be powerful enough to change my depression.  What I need is concrete moments that I can hold up close enough to my eyes to see them clearly, hold closely, so they don't fade away into the fog.

So, let me write about the few things I can see through the fog:

• My cat warming me at night, on my bed, always sleeping near my right arm.
• Having walked this morning when every part of me wanted to just crawl back in bed--I did it, damn it!
• Really good music that takes me away for the 3-4 minutes of its duration.
• The possibility of a new friend; even the slightest hint of a kindred spirit carries a lot of weight.

The Journey of Hanging On

Big sigh.  I am not doing so hot.  I have just been sinking back into a deep depression and it takes everything in me to get out of bed each day.  I'm exhausted after getting out of bed.  Exhausted and unhappy and frustrated.  I have started my new "mood stabilizing" drug, but it will be about 3 weeks before I even hit the therapeutic dose, let alone find out if it works for me or not.  I'm not sure i can take another 3 weeks of this. 

I'm at a loss as far as what to write.  I don't want this to be just another blog of emotional vomit.  However, it just may end up being that very thing.  To get an idea of how low I am, usually my work can keep me somewhat distracted and I can pass some time getting my lectures ready, etc.  But this week I didn't even finish my lecture and went and presented a half baked lesson.  I'm actually appalled at myself, I've never been so blatantly unprepared before, in my entire life.  And the scary thing is, I'm not sure I really care.  Another example--I was supposed to teach in church, but called in on Saturday late afternoon and said I couldn't do it.  The truth is, I couldn't handle it, teaching about the post-mortal world.  I'm not sure why and I'm not sure I want to know why (which in and of itself is very strange, usually I do want to know the "whys" of my feeling and actions), but I just couldn't do it.  My friend who's in charge of the group of teachers was very gracious and generous in taking my lesson for me, but again, this just illustrates how bad things have gotten.  Trust me, when it's bad enough that I can't/won't teach, it's really bad.  The only thing that could make it worse is if I got to the point where I couldn't take care of my kids.  So far, I've only ever been there about 3 days in my entire life, and it scared the hell out of me.  And that happened just before our move to the Tri-Cities.

Well, there's not a lot more to say, it's just me, trying to hang on.  I wish I had some amazing words of wisdom about my journey, or even some way of telling this part of the journey in a more interesting way.  But I don't have the luxury of writing up my life as a good book.  The bulk of my life is just the same old boring stuff; the same old depressing stuff.  Maybe my next entry will be better.

Jumping the Gun

Well, whoever said hope springs eternal obviously never suffered from depression!  The medication that I was so excited about gave me a rash and a rash from this particular medicine is a big problem.  I have had to stop the medicine and wait for it to clear my system and then on to the next trial of medication.  I was so anxious to get some relief that I jumped the gun a bit.  Overconfidence can be as bad as a lack of confidence.  Blech.  I know I should try and maintain some hope.  But.  I just have to hang in there for a little longer. . .

Labels 2 (or: Medicated and Motivated)

So I told my mom about my new diagnosis and it was really hard on her.  I can't imagine why, I'm still me and have the same issues to deal with, only I've been given a new set of tools to work with and feel pretty hopeful.  So why do some labels put people off?  This is a rhetorical question, because I sort of know the answer. 

I gave a seminar once, on ecofeminism, at BYU (of all places).  Biology students, and some Range and Wildlife folks, made up the main audience.  I started out talking about labels--how we tend to make inferences about people based on certain labels they, or we, assume they wear.  When you ask people if they want clean air, clean water, and a better place for their children, most people say "yes." But if you ask them if they're an environmentalist, most people say "no," and some quite emphatically.  If you ask them if men and women are equal, they'll agree, but few will consider themselves feminists. So the weakness is that usually it's the extremes that are associated with labels.  Feminists are not viewed as simply interested in fair treatment for women, but are considered "feminazis" by those who fear the label of feminist. 

Back to my own new label as "bipolar II."  Doctors have given even the term bipolar an added adjective of 2 or soft.  That's because most people associate extreme behavior with bipolar disorders.  I feel quite confident that my behavior is far from extreme, but I also feel quite confident that bipolar II is a good fit for my situation/condition.  Now honestly, when I the doctor first suggested this, I inwardly balked at the idea.  But the more I read about it, the more I came to agree with the doctor.  In the book by Phelps that I mentioned in my previous post, Phelps even went so far as to say that one should be careful and use judgement when telling other people you have bipolar II disorder.  So here I am putting it out to anyone who cares to read my blog that I'm bipolar.  I'm bipolar and I'm okay with it.  Like I said, I haven't changed at all; my condition hasn't changed; but my treatment has (and with some long awaited results). 

I wonder why my mother was so upset.  Is the stigma too much for her?  I told her how much better I'm doing on the change in medication, shouldn't that be cause for relief and possibly celebration?  Maybe she fears the stigma, fears being the mother of 2 children who are bipolar and the stigma that might accompany that.  I don't know.  It doesn't surprise me, she's never been one who handles crises well, as if this is a crisis.  Her reaction was similar to how she reacts to a crisis--it's horrible, life is so miserable, she can't handle how difficult it all is.  My mom doesn't like to deal with life.  But she's been depressed most of her life, so I can't really blame her.  Maybe she's bipolar II as well.  However, any diagnosis will never matter to her, she won't, or can't, take care of herself that way.  Once, myself and both of my sisters were taking anti-depressants and my mom really needed to get some sort of relief for her depression.  But when I suggested she get some medication her response was, honest to God, "we can't all be on anti-depressants!"  I was floored.  She definitely has the martyr syndrome down to a tee.  So my mom will always sacrifice her own well-being, even when no one wants her to. Instead of truly sacrificing, and making sacred as the root of the term means, she instead falsely sacrifices and it ends up being waste instead.  It's like the difference between sacrificing an animal's life, so that you may live, or slaughtering animals for a trophy, which is purely a waste of the animal's life. 

My mom may just get more depressed with the news I gave her.  If I were her, I'd be asking myself "could that be my condition as well?"  I would be hopeful for my daughters.  I would be grateful that our understanding of brain chemistry, as limited as it is, is better than it's been ever before, with more options for mood disorders.  I would be hopeful that a treatment could be found that would allow my daughters to live free from debilitating depression.  If I were her, I wouldn't be so scared.  I guess in truth, these reactions are my new feelings about having a new label to wear.  I am hopeful, grateful, and I'm no longer so scared.  Just a couple of weeks ago I was scared that I'd never find a way out of the darkness of depression.  And now, armed with a new label and new medication, I'm not so scared.  To quote an Anne Taintor magnet, "I'm medicated and motivated!"  (see Anne Taintor products and enjoy her humor at http://annetaintor.com/products.html). 

Light Therapy

A CAVEAT:  I am not a medical expert or professional in any way when it comes to the use of light therapy.  I do not suggest that the way I am using my light is the proper way.  So don't blame me if it doesn't work or something goes wrong.  Do your own research and talk to your own doctor or therapist about light therapy. 

A friend commented on my last blog entrance and asked me about my mood lamp.  I think I should call it by it's proper name--it's really light therapy.  There are a ton of websites about light therapy as a practice and also units for sale.  But basically the idea behind light therapy is that as day length shortens, some people are more sensitive to the lack of natural light, which can add to depression.  With light therapy you use a lamp that is a full spectrum lamp and give yourself short doses of extra "daylight." 

The way I've been told to use light therapy is to use it in the morning for about 10 minutes a day, working up to between 15 and 20 minutes a day.  As I understand it, you don't need more.  It's best to use it in the morning because it affects your biorhythms and can throw off your sleep patterns if used at night.  And you can't close your eyes during the time you use the light lamp (which is unfortunate because I always fight to stay awake while I'm using it!).  It should be kept at a distance about equal to where your computer screen is.  In fact, using it while on the computer in the morning would be a good time.  However, kids should not sit under the light with you. 

I got my light from Costco, it's called "go LITE" by Philips, but you can find it on Amazon and other places if you just do a search for it.  It costs a little over $100, but I've had mine for several years and it is still going strong.  Light therapy is an easy thing and has very little, if any, negative side effects.  But like I said at the first of this blog, I do not promote my own information and experience with light therapy as the proper way of doing things.  I will not be responsible for someone else's choice.  (Do I sound paranoid?  I just don't want the responsibility of telling a person how to use light therapy).

NOS (Not Otherwise Specified)

I have actually felt good for the last couple of days.  This is highly unusual for me, but it's quite nice.  So my new diagnosis is Bipolar II--NOS, which is to say I have a not otherwise specified form of bipolar II.  According to Wikipedia, "Bipolar disorder NOS (Not Otherwise Specified) is a diagnosis for bipolar disorder (BD) when it does not fall within the other established sub-types^[1] Sub-types of bipolar are part of the bipolar spectrum."  Bipolar II disorder is a "softer" type of bipolar disorder.  In other words you don't cycle between extreme mania and depression.  Often you cycle between depression and hypomania, but you don't have to have a lot of cycling between the two to be considered bipolar.  Apparently you may have as few as 1 hypomanic episode and several depressive episodes to count as bipolar II or soft bipolar.  There's a really good book I read called "Why Am I Still Depressed? Recognizing and Managing the Ups and Downs of Bipolar II and Soft Bipolar Disorder" by Jim Phelps, MD.  He also has a great website at http://www.psycheducation.org/ in which he defines writes:  "Bipolar II is a version of Bipolar Disorder: depression is obvious but mild phases of high energy ("hypomania"), which can just look like anxiety and insomnia, are also present.  This doesn't look at all like "manic-depression", just big mood and energy swings. But Bipolar II can be as severe as other forms of Bipolar Disorder, maybe even more prone to suicide. Bipolar II is an "official" diagnosis in the Bipolar Disorders group." 

When I first talked to my psychiatrist about this (last entry I had about labels) my reaction to the idea was that it couldn't be right, because I never feel that hypomania.  However, after studying it for 2 weeks I'm beginning to realize that this diagnosis feels correct and plausible.  The best thing is that normal anti-depressants only are effective if you have uni-polar depression, but are ineffective for bipolar disorders.  In fact, one of the symptoms that led my doctor to diagnose me as such was that I've been on many different types of anti-depressants with little to moderate effectiveness.  Now I've been put on a medication specifically for bipolar II and I'm really hopeful.  I don't think my mood improvement has to do with starting the medication because you have to be titrated onto the medicine and I'm at a very low dose right now.  However, I wonder if I'm feeling so good because I finally have some hope.  I am not looking forward to having 6 weeks of medicine titration before I can find out if it will work.  But.  At least I have a timeline with my depression.  I've been so severely depressed for the last 2 years that I'm really ready to be done.  One way or another.

My symptoms, which by themselves are not singularly symptoms of "bipolarness," taken together are all part of the signs and symptoms that paint a bipolar II.  Some of these symptoms include:

• Multiple major depressive periods (I've had at least five in the last 25 years)
• Depression starting when I was in my teens
• Multiple anti-depressants not working or working for a short period of time
• Having a first order family member diagnosed with bipolar II (my sister has been diagnosed)  

These last couple of weeks have been very informative for me.  Plus I've started making some changes in my lifestyle.  Dr. Phelps writes about trying to find treatments with high success rates and low side-effects rates.  4 things he mentions are exercise, fish oil, light therapy, and plain old therapy.  I have been in therapy and continue to do so, but now I've started walking about 20 minutes every day, taking fish oil pills, and trying to use my mood light as often as I can.  This is the first time that I've read about exercise and am actually motivated to do it!  It's a huge accomplishment.  I don't know if these things have attributed to my better mood, we'll see how long it lasts.  But like I said earlier, I am hopeful.  And hope may be the best medicine yet.

Labels

So, I have just learned I may have been misdiagnosed all these years.  That could be good because if that's the case, there are different medications that will work better than the slew of anti-depressants I've been slogging through and reaping few benefits from.  It will take a couple of weeks and some more diagnostic tests, but I'm somewhat hopeful.  The strange thing is trying on a new diagnostic hat, so to speak.  I've spent 20 years or so defining myself as a "depressed" person, at least some of the time.  Now, maybe I've been wrong.  I wonder if changing labels will change the reality I live in.   

Signature Strengths

My therapist recommended a book to me called "Authentic Happiness" by Martin E. P. Seligman.  Normally I wouldn't spend time on a book with a title like that--it sounds a little cheesy.  However, I respect my therapists opinion so I got the book.  It's not too bad.  In it he writes "I believe that the highest success in living and the deepest emotional satisfaction comes from building and using your signature strengths.  So, what is a signature strength?  They are attributes or strengths of character that one self-consciously owns.  That doesn't say much, but if you look up the author he has a website with a test you can take to find your signature strengths.  He also mentions the following as ways to identify your signature strengths:   Is there a sense of ownership and authenticity ("this is the real me"), a feeling of excitement while displaying it, a rapid learning curve as the strength is first practiced, continuous learning of new ways to enact the strength, a sense of yearning to find ways to use it, a feeling of inevitability in using the strength, invigoration rather than exhaustion while using the strength, the creation and pursuit of personal projects that revolve around it, and joy, zest, enthusiasm, even ecstasy while using it.

As I've been reading the book and taking the tests, the results show that my top signature strengths are love of learning, curiosity, appreciation of beauty and integrity.  I think I would add teaching to that list, or at least sharing my love of learning.  However, during the last two years of working on this degree I feel like there's been this constant chipping away at my resolve.  This has left me questioning my signature strengths--particularly my ability to learn.  And it has taken the joy out of learning for me.  I end up feeling like I can't accomplish anything and now it's seeping into my confidence in my teaching.  So, I question what my signature strengths really are. 

My therapist suggested another signature strength to me--perseverance.  She believes that without perseverance I would have quit working on my degree long ago.  I guess that's a good way of thinking about it.  Hopefully it's enough to keep me hanging in there until I finish.  Part of me wants to finish just so I can say I did it, without any thanks to my advisor (he's so uninspiring and one who has been doing most of the undermining of my confidence). So, I'd love to "stick it to the man" by finishing and not giving up.  But truthfully, right now, the main reason I'm considering finishing this damnable degree is so I can get a decent job to pay off my student loans.

That makes me sad though, to be reduced to using economics as a motivating factor.  I want my signature strength back, I want to finish this degree because I love learning.  But maybe right now I should be glad that I at least have one reason to finish.

My dad, if he were alive, would say "to Hell with them! You can do this without them."  But you know, I need them--the academic community--to validate me.  I thrive on having a professor telling me I've done a good job, that I'm an exceptional student, etc.  I used to get that a lot, back when I was an undergrad and getting my master's.  But not so much anymore.  My advisor never tells me I'm even just good enough, let alone exceptional.  When I was younger, although I thrived on the praise, I used to worry that one day they'd see through me and realize that I wasn't that great.  I think now, that I lack that praise, a part of me says "look, see they finally figured out what a fraud you are and how mediocre of a scientist you are."  I feel like the lack of praise I'm getting now is the true assessment of myself, rather than the kudos I got when I was younger.  Somehow I've let this one person undo the confidence I have in myself.  One persons opinion is outweighing multiple opinions of people who said I was good enough.  And not just good enough, but exceptional.  How is it that I've given one man so much power over me?  I'm just realizing this as I'm writing it and it pisses me off!  I have got to work on that.  Somehow I need to take that power back and not allow one persons poor opinion negate all the positive ones.

Okay, I've blathered on long enough.  But I think a portion of my depression has come from allowing my advisor to sabotage my signature strengths.  And that's just not right.  Now, if I only had the energy to fight back.  Unfortunately, the depression has zapped me of my strength and will.  But I will persevere.  That may be the most important signature strength yet.

Good Books and Rumination

I've just started reading a novel called The History of Love by Nicole Krauss and I'm taken in after only 20 pages.  Here's a part of the book that really struck home to me:

    "It had been so long, I didn't know any other way of being.  One day I woke up and said to myself: it's not too late.  The first days were strange.  I had to practice smiling in front of the mirror.  But it came back to me.  It was as a weight had been lifted.  I let go, and something let go of me."

I wish I knew what I had to let go of.  It's been about 2 years now, and I don't seem to be getting any better, assuming there is a better.  In this book, the character is talking about letting go of anger, but I've heard it said that depression is anger turned inside.  Actually, when I stop and think about it, I am pretty angry. 

I'm angry at my dad for dying.  I'm angry at my advisor for being a Jack Wagon (otherwise known as a jackass).  I'm angry at having to move when I wanted to stay where I was.  I'm angry at whomever coined the phrase "bloom where you're planted."  I'm angry at myself for not being stronger and better able to fight this depression.

Another part from the book that I love, where the main character is talking about a plant he has:

   "I've had it for almost ten years.  It's barely alive, but it is alive.  More brown than green.  There are parts that have withered.  But still is lives, leaning always to the left.  Even when I rotate it so that what faced the sun no loner faces the sun, it stubbornly leans to the left, choosing against physical need in favor of an act of creativity.  I poured the rest of my water into its pot.  What does it mean, anyway, to flourish?"

What does it mean, to flourish?  That is a very good question.  I'm glad I have book group, which introduced me to this book, because I can tell it's going to be a very good read.  Already I've found two (actually more) ideas on which to ruminate.  I'm good at ruminating, you have to be if you're going to be good at depression; and that's me--good at depression.

Courage and Cowardice

Where does courage come from?  What does it look like?  Is living with depression an act of courage or cowardice?  I can see how it may be both.  Maybe it is cowardice if depression is a refusal of happiness, which it sometimes seems like.  Maybe it's cowardice when one is too afraid to live a life of happiness; when all you know is depression, the unknown possibility of happiness can be a frightening place.  Maybe depression is cowardice because one can hide behind depression and be excused from more meaningful relationships and be excused from having the energy and vitality that non-depressed people have.  Maybe depression is just an easier, more cowardly excuse.  And maybe there is cowardice in choosing to continue living a life in a depressed state rather than choosing death, because death is an unknown. 

But maybe, depression is an act of courage, because you wake up every day and take care of the children, the animals, the spouse, when really all you want to do is hide in bed.  Maybe it is courage to chose to try to interact with people, try to be engaged in a conversation, when really all you want to do is be alone, in the darkness of your thoughts.  And maybe depression is a harder, more courageous act because you admit that life is not always as good as it seems, and yet still you go on.  Maybe choosing life with depression instead of death is an act of courage, because life with depression is the known, and sometimes the known is more frightening than the unknown.  Maybe living with depression is an act of courage because you keep hoping that one day you will find happiness; maybe courage is the ability to hope.

Square Grapes

I am feeling sober right now.  All in all, it's been a good day:  I went and taught my ecosystems ecology class, I did some house work, took my daughter to school registration, and went to book group this evening.  In many ways I have been able to traverse across my different roles today with relative ease.  Yet I am feeling a bit lost; I don't feel like I belong here.  And this is all despite the different places that I should find community--the university, the public school system for my children, my friends in book group.  Somehow though, I still feel like I'm as strange as a square grape.  In a world full of round grapes, I am wondering if a square grape can find a sense of belonging.

Gum in my Hair

I have been trying to be more aware of my moods, feelings and any thoughts or events associated with them.  One thing I'm aware of is that my unhappy or anxious moods tend to come with sticky thoughts.  What I mean by this is that any negative or depressing feelings seem to stick themselves to all activities and events in my life.  Once I'm feeling anxious or depressed about one thing, it all spills over into other parts of my life.  It's kind of like getting gum stuck in your hair:  the harder you try to pull it out, the more hair gets tangled in it.  I'm not sure why that doesn't happen on the other end of the spectrum.  A good or positive feeling seems to be more ephemeral and fleeting. Whereas whenever I come across a more negative thought, it starts sticking itself onto multiple parts of my life and I can't seem to contain those more anxious and darker feelings.

Unfortunately being aware of this phenomenon doesn't seem to make my thoughts less sticky.  But maybe I'll learn to take these feelings less seriously; maybe being aware will help me get the scissors out sooner rather than later.  If I can just get the scissors out and excise the gum instead of getting the gum all over, maybe my depression will lose some of its steam and not last quite as long.

Today while I was trying to work on my dissertation I was hit with the thought that I don't want to do research and I'm not sure I want to teach.  The latter part of that thought makes me uncomfortable because teaching was the one thing I was sure I wanted to do.  But I'm not so sure now.  Somewhere along this journey I've lost my confidence and I'm not sure how to find it.  Maybe this is true for most people who work on a PhD.  Maybe most people feel like quitting at some point or another.  Maybe they all feel like frauds sometimes.  I don't know.  With the debt I've acquired, I better like teaching or research, because I'll have to get a job to pay off the loans I've taken out.  I can't afford not to work when I'm done.  But I think what I need is a class that I can truly call my own.  I'm teaching Ecosystems Ecology this semester, but I'm borrowing a lot from others and parts of my lectures/assignments don't feel like my own.  It's like I'm teaching from another persons syllabus.  Of course I've done this because I'm also trying to finish my dissertation and I don't have the time to do more than that.  I guess that's okay, but I feel like I'm not in complete ownership of the course.

So, I've gained an insight into my feelings and moods, but where does that leave me?  I either need to stop sleeping with gum in my mouth, or keep a pair of scissors handy.  Too bad I don't seem to know when to throw out my gum.

No promises

Maybe you can tell a bit about my mood by how often I write.  I tend to write more when I'm depressed, I guess it helps me sort out some of the confusing feelings.  And things have been okay for a couple of weeks, but now feel like they are slipping a bit.  However, this is supposed to be a blog about relearning happiness.  It could be that the title is a bit misleading.  I'm beginning to wonder if it should be "learning" happiness, instead.  I am not totally convinced that I've ever learned how to be happy.  Is it even possible?  I know how to get by and how to enjoy myself now and then, but I really wasn't happy in my teens.  I struggled with depression during my twenties.  I came into my own a bit in my thirties, but still struggled with depression.  And the forties aren't starting out so hot.

It's been over a year since my descent into my darkest depression and although my life isn't pitch black anymore, it's still far from where I'd like to be.  I still find myself wanting to cry for no reason; tired of life; having mini fantasies about dying (do I dare admit that?).  I'm just not sure that anything I've ever believed in is valid.  That may sound like a broad catch-all, but I do mean that some of the most core things I've believed in don't seem so believable.  I guess that's just another way to say I'm questioning the way I'm living my life.  I have always played by the rules and done all of the things I "should" yet I am unhappy with life.  So where have I gone wrong?  Would I have been happier bucking the system?  Probably not.  But if that's true, then where does happiness come from?  I've been taught all my life that it comes from making "good" decisions.  But when you make those good decisions and follow all the rules and you feel like crap all the time, or at least most of the time, then where's the benefit of supporting a system that promises happiness that I have yet to experience?

Geez, I don't know where I'm going with all of this.  Sounds like some stream-of-consciousness shit.  I'm not even sure why I should blog and why anyone would want to read this depressing crap.  Well, that sort of sums me up right there, doesn't it?  I'll post it, but just know that regardless of the title of my blog site, I've made no promises.

Food for Thought

My sister-in-law is reading a book called "Women, Food and God" by Geneen Roth.  The basic premise, as I understand it, is that our relationship with food is a mirror of our relationship with the spiritual.  It is a map to show us how we define life.  The product description of the book from Amazon reads "The way you eat is inseparable from your core beliefs about being alive. Your relationship with food is an exact mirror of your feelings about love, fear, anger, meaning, transformation and, yes, even God."

So I've been thinking a lot about this and trying to understand what my relationship with food says about me and my outlook on life.  I'm not an obsessive eater; although I like food, I don't think about it all the time.  I don't overeat, if anything, I tend to under eat the good stuff and eat too much of the sugary stuff.  I love my Dr. Pepper.  Cooking is a real chore for me.  I use cereal as a standby meal.  If anything, I keep myself from eating really good food, on the basis that it's too  much of a bother to make and clean up. 

After a week of pondering on this, I think I might be gaining some insight.  Here's some possible interpretations:  Depression, for me, is often the norm of my life.  And being a little bit hungry, or always lacking true satisfaction from food may be a reflection of my depression and my lack of satisfaction with life.  I often keep myself from getting truly satisfying food.  Maybe I keep myself from being truly satisfied with life; or keep myself from being truly happy with life.  Emotionally, as with food, I am getting by, sort of limping along, but I find that my life is rarely pleasurable.  And when it comes to my eating habits, I eat enough to get along, enough to keep my body going, but it's not really pleasurable. 

Now the one thing I'm still wondering about is my relationship with cooking and what that manifests about my life. . .food for thought.

It Could Be

So.  Here I am, no longer depressed, but no wiser on how to find happiness and meaning in life.  I'm not sure why I'm no longer feeling so depressed--it could be because my medications are working; it could be because this depressive episode was finally spent (although it was an incredibly long episode); it could be because my advisor is finally acting like an advisor; it could be that I'm finally settling down in my new home (again, an issue of enough time passing); it could be prayers were answered; it could be that certain aspects of therapy are finally clicking into place; it could be any combination of things.  But does the reason matter?  I think it does because if there is a specific behavior or event or some concrete reason, then I can use that for future depressive episodes.  But if it's merely a function of time, then the important thing is to hang in there long enough.  If it's merely a function of time, then I have no control over my depression and that thought, in and of itself, is depressing.

How does one go about unraveling the truth from something as complex as human emotions/nature?  The scientist in me recognizes the necessity and impossibility of having a true control group and controlling all possible combinations of factors that might effect ones mood.   The poet in me laughs at the scientist for even thinking there is such a thing as "control."  And I'm left wondering.  Maybe the cause isn't as important as the lesson learned--that my depression doesn't last forever, regardless of how it might feel at a given moment.  Actually, I think that is closer to the truth than one might think.  I distinctly recall the time when my depression was first recognized as such and the first time I saw a therapist and the first time I came out of a major depression.  It was very clear to me then, that depression was one part of me, but that it wouldn't last forever.  My twenty-something self remarked that I should remember this time, the time when I worked through my depression, remember it for future times of depression--there would always be that knowledge and, dare I say, hope.  And in truth that is one thing that plays in the back of my mind, with varying degrees of power and influence, when I'm depressed. 

I learned that depression was something I'd deal with off and on throughout my life.  Sometimes, just knowing I've gotten through it before can at least stave off any thoughts of self-harm or death, if not give me hope.  Hope is often impossible when I'm really depressed, but it can be a foggy memory that at least keeps me going.  So now, what do I do?  What do I do without depression as a familiar, if not comfortable, companion?  I prove to myself, one more time, that the depression won't last forever.  I remind myself that I am more than my depression.  I find the power within myself to be disciplined, work hard, and most importantly enjoy the moments I have that are depression-free.  Over the last several days I've actually caught myself singing (and not my beloved dark songs), just singing for no apparent reason.  I've also found myself freely laughing with my children.  What a wonderful gift that is!  Maybe I shouldn't worry about the "why" and I should just enjoy what is.

Feeling Better

So, I've been feeling better these last several days. Part of this is due to finally having a detailed plan on what needs to happen for me to finish my degree. For the first time in over a year I feel like I know exactly what I need to do and I feel like I can accomplish it. There's still stress, but this is the stress of having a lot of things to do as opposed to the stress of not knowing what to do. The crazy thing is that I have been depressed for so long that I'm not sure how to deal with stress in a normal way. My first reaction is to start thinking that I can't do it. But I'm working very hard to not fall into that trap. I think that as long as I can break down my "to do" list into discreet projects, I'll be fine. And by next May I should be Dr. Hamblin-Hart. Not bad.

Words as Steps on a Path

I am still ruminating about the changes I have undergone in the last 20 years. One thing is that I am not reading as much literature, specifically environmental literature, as I used to. Just tonight I began thumbing through some of my old books and reading all the parts I have underlined. Some old emotions were stirred and I felt the pulse of passion in my veins. I think I need to read more. More essays, more poetry, more philosophy. I think I need to re-read some of those authors that inspired me long ago: Terry Tempest Williams, Wendell Berry, Edward Abbey, Aldo Leopold, Gary Snyder and Annie Dillard. But I am frustrated because I feel like I have so little time--I can barely find time to work on my dissertation, let alone read books from my past. Yet at the same time, it might be one of the things that saves me. Maybe taking time to get reaquainted to some of these mentors will energize me to finish my degree. We'll see.

I'll end with some words from Terry Tempest Williams, in her remarkable essay "Undressing the Bear" found in her book titled "An Unspoken Hunger." She writes: "if we look too closely or feel too deeply, there may be no end to our suffering. But words empower us, move us beyond our suffering, and set us free. This is the sorcery of literature. We are healed by our stories."

In my need of emotional healing it is time to reconnect to the stories that once sustained me. I think this will help me find my voice again. And once I have found my voice I can act from the heart again. This feels right to me, like an important step on the journey to relearning happiness.

Full of beans

Christina left a comment on my post "Where is the Passion?" which summed up what I've been thinking about over the last hour. And to prove I'm not always whiny, and to show what an emotional see-saw I ride, I decided I needed to write a response to my own post.

I do still have passion, I'm just not 20 anymore and I have a lot more responsibilities than I did when I was 20. So my passion looks different, at least the way I vocalize and think about those things I love looks different. I still love to read poetry and feel the sun on my face. I think about the people of the Maldive Islands, who will lose their islands due to climate change, every time I get in a car. My understanding of environmental issues has deepened but I don't have the freedom of time to go flitting off to DC to protect wilderness like I did when I was 20. As a 40-something mother of 3, working on a PhD and running a household, my energy for my passions has had to diffuse to more things. And I now have 3 individual passions that take up way more energy to maintain than any whale ever did. We have 20 year olds in our society to be the passionate, tireless souls that they are, because at 40 we are tired and have to keep the rest of life moving! So, I'm glad I'm a 40 year old woman who struggles to keep her passions alive. And if nothing else, I can say, like Mary Oliver did--I'm still full of beans! This blog is evidence of it.

Where is the Passion?

I miss my 20 year old self. I miss the passion I felt for so many things. I felt so strongly about the environment, teaching, reading, poetry, writing, ecofeminism, learning . . . I was driven to think and discuss ideas, all the time. Now, although I still believe in and love those things, I've lost my passion. This recognition has come about because I came across a fantastic new blog called "Our Mother's Keeper" which is a "LDS group blog dedicated to environmentalism, ecofeminism and environmental justice issues that result from the changes the planet is currently undergoing." It's brilliant and everything I wished I had 20 years ago. It looks like it's a forum handcrafted for me; yet I find myself feeling like it's a place where I don't belong, because I've settled in my middle class life and can't find the passion to share my ideas and ideals any more. I have misplaced the "ecofreak" (a term of endearment from my father). I'm not sure anyone would look at me and think I was an ecofreak today. That saddens me.

The depression is not the culprit of this loss of passion, because I was depressed when I was 20. I was depressed and passionate. There's a great line from a poem called "Self Portrait" by Mary Oliver (yes, more from Mary; isn't it obvious that I've just recently found her work?). Its opening line is:

I wish I was twenty and in love with life
and still full of beans.

I think that's so awesome. The best part about it is the ending line:

though I'm not twenty
and won't be again but ah! seventy. And still
in love with life. And still
full of beans.

My sorrow comes from the fact that I'm forty (and then some) but I'm not sure I'm still in love with life. What has happened to that idealist who cried at the site of ORV tracks across the desert; who signed petitions and lobbied at Capitol Hill for the sake of the voiceless, for the sake of the earth? Where is the idealist who wanted to save the whales and the plants and went out of her way to not step on cryptogamic soil? Maybe I'm remembering myself wrong, maybe I never really was any of those things. Maybe my passion wasn't as deep-rooted as I thought it was. But maybe I'm right. If I am right, then the passion still must be there, somewhere, lying in wait, on slow burn, waiting to be reignited. I hope so, I hope I can revive that passionate, younger self. If nothing else, it's a good sign that I can remember that young self and I have desire and hope to find her. At least it's a start.

The Mood-Thought Paradox

I'm sitting here struggling with trying to figure out what I'm feeling and what to write. I should be working on the dissertation, but, c'est la vie. I am beginning to have days where I fall in and out of confidence. It's a very tiring way to live, but at least I am having moments of feeling confident. However, I'm realizing that I can only sustain those positive emotions for several hours, then I'm back to feeling like my life is useless. Like I said, it's not necessarily a bad thing, it just leaves me feeling confused. It feels like I'm in a car that's stuttering around--one moment it runs smoothly, the next it chokes or stalls out.

What is most interesting about this to me is that when I'm feeling good, I really believe any positive self-talk I present to myself. But when I'm feeling bad, I cannot believe the positive ideas or phrases and only the negative one feel real. This is quite a quandary to be in because I have yet to be able to identify any causal relationship between my moods, up or down, and I'm left feeling out of control of my emotional state of mind. It's not like I can say to myself "just whistle a happy tune and you'll feel good" or "think happy thoughts." My mood and my thoughts seem to be intertwined and I can't find where one begins and one ends. When I'm feeling okay I can believe that I am enough, just as is. But when I slip down then that thought seems like a cruel joke. It's all rather frustrating.

Riptides

Well, I received some professional critique last night and words like "rather alarming" and "unacceptable" were thrown around. I am not in a strong enough place to handle this. Over the last year and a half or so, it feels like every time I make any progress towards completing this damnable degree something or someone pulls the rug out from under me. Then I have to spend another week, or month, and get myself back up and going again. It really sucks. I had just come off a high--getting my first chapter of the dissertation finished, polished, and sent off for review for publication. I was feeling "normal," which for me is pretty good and now this. It's like my depression is sitting right in the center of my chest and it's all I can do to keep it down. And when something like this happens, it's all I can do to not absolutely loose faith in myself.

This all begs the question of what to do? The Western philosophy is that life is a battle that needs to be conquered; everything is a struggle and you fight until you win. Like my dad always said "pull yourself up by your bootstraps" and never give up. The Eastern philosophy suggests that life is more of an inner struggle to learn to give up the self to the larger universe. Fighting is useless and puts you further behind, whereas giving yourself over to the higher power or some such thing ultimately brings out one's strengths. In church the other day someone used an analogy of a bush being pruned by a gardener. The bush asks why it must be pruned and the gardener answers that he's making the bush into what he wants it to be, with the analogy that we are the bush and God is the gardener and we should subject ourselves to the pruning (i.e. difficulties in life) to become all that we can be. It makes me wonder if I'm just kicking against the pricks or am I in the refiners fire? Is this all part of the struggle that makes me stronger or is the real lesson to be learned is that I should stop fighting something that is unbeatable and am I travelling down the wrong road? It's kind of like trying to get out of a riptide--instead of wasting your energy swimming against the current, you must let the tide take you out to the ocean and then get to a point where you can swim back, going with the flow rather than against it. So am I in a riptide? It feels like if I quite swimming, or dog-paddling as the case may be, that I will drown. I just don't know how to interpret the challenges I've faced over the last year and then some. But I'm afraid to make a decision because I'm not in a place of strength. My decision would most likely be made from a place of fear and insecurities. And that won't work. I'm just really tired of fighting in general. I'm ready to throw in the towel.

I apologize for some of the metaphors I'm using and mixing. They sound a bit trite and lacking in useful insights, but I'm tired and trying to make sense of things I don't really understand. So this blog is more like vomiting up my feelings, rather than being a meaningful essay of self-reflection.

Happiness is . . .

Well, I had a day this week, where I didn't feel anxious or depressed. I was able to run an errand to the grocery store without feeling overwhelmed, irritable, or bogged down at all. I just went to the store. I was friendly to people, I got the items I needed, and it was all really easy. I wonder if that is how happy people feel most of the time. So this all has got me to thinking about what happiness is to me. Here's my thoughts on it:

Happiness is . . .
-Being able to go to the store without any emotional or physical effort.
-Being able to get out of bed without any feelings of dread or dislike.
-Spontaneous moments of fun with my children (where I am spontaneous about having fun).
-Going through the day without long moments of sitting and staring out into space.
-Not feeling anxious.
-Not worrying about whether other people like me or not.
-Effortlessly making transitions throughout the day.
-Not feeling bogged down.
-Self-confidence.

Now the tricky part is figuring out how to duplicate these feeling (or lack thereof) and make that a normal part of my life. I wonder if "normal" (i.e. not depressed) people go through life like that most of the time. I envy them if they do. Depression sucks. I have been diagnosed with dysthymia. It is a chronically low level of depression where my "up" times are more in line with most people's "normal" and my "normal" times are in line with most people's "low" times. That means my "low" times are usually a major depression. Which leaves me to wonder when do I ever get to experience the normal "high" of life? Dysthymia sucks even worse than depression, because there's not a time constraint on feeling down. You generally feel down.

Writing about all of this is dysthymia is not working. . .I was doing better with the task of figuring out what happiness is. I guess for me, happiness is the average person's normal.

Sound and Fury

My big question these last couple of days is how can I gain better self-discipline? I need to finish my dissertation, but instead of making a lot of time to write, I find a lot of ways to waste my time. I've been reading a book about how to write more and one important point is that you won't ever find time to write, you have to allot time to write. So I have tried to set aside several hours a each day to write and to act as if those times were like hours working--I could never blow off work to talk on the phone or something, so I can't blow off time writing to talk on the phone, read a good book, or the like. It worked for a week or so, but since our spring break vacation I'm finding it hard to keep those writing hours separate and sacred. Part of the reason is because my mind is like mush and I can't find words. But that's just another excuse. It seems like I'm full of excuses. But I'm at the point where I need to finish this soon.

So, I have a real desire to finish, but am finding it difficult to actually do the work. What is wrong with me? Am I really not that motivated to finish my dissertation? Are the excuses I come up with merely excuses and full of sound and fury but signifying nothing? I sort of feel like a lot of my life is just that: sound and fury signifying nothing. All my woes, all of my struggles to finish this degree, all of my depression. It takes up a lot of my time and emotional energy, but ultimately is just a lot of hot air and is ultimately insignificant. And when I say that I'm not trying to say "poor me." I am saying it sincerely and wondering if I need to just get over myself and start living my life: start writing the damnable dissertation; start enjoying my life, my kids, my husband; stop wasting time and start using my potential. I may not be ultra smart, but I'm not dumb. I may not be super talented, but I'm not lacking talent. I may not be the best wife and mother, but I am a good wife and mother. So, get off my duff and do something! This is my pep talk for the week.

Beach Memories

I'm itchin' to write, but I'm not sure what I want to write about, or what I want to say. While on vacation for the last 4 days I had forgotten to bring my anti-depressants and I could really tell a difference. My thoughts slowly tumbled downward to the point where I just hated everything about myself and sleep felt like the best way to avoid my feelings. Now, I'm one day back on my meds and starting to feel better. However, my moods and thoughts seem to be whipping back and forth between depressed and not depressed, to the point of giving me severe emotional whiplash. And I feel like I'm slogging through time as if I was trudging through pudding. I had thought I would write about all of the things I really hate about myself but figured I'd try and be more positive and at least include the things I like about myself. Yet right now neither of those things seem very interesting. Instead, I want to write about the moments during our vacation to Moclips, WA (on the coast) that were most memorable. They are (in no particular order):

• finding 65 perfect sand dollars on the beach


• seeing a herd of elk (ostensibly Roosevelt Elk) in the Hoh Rainforest


• hiking in the Hoh Rainforest, in the rain, of course


• seeing bald eagles


• listening to the chorus of frogs every night, just outside my bedroom window


• watching tiny bubbles scuttle across the water and sand, looking, for all intents and purposes, as if they were living creatures


• watching the kids being chased by the waves


• finding pebbles in the sand

Not a bad list considering the overshadowing depressive thoughts and the constant downpour of rain that called itself spring weather on the coast. So, this is me, working at being happy, fighting off the natural desire to slip downwards. The emotional landscape is much like the physical landscape and the 2nd law of thermodynamics--Entropy always increases, unless you put energy into the system. And unless I'm putting some major energy into my emotional state, I'm always headed toward entropy and depression. Hmm, maybe I should put more thought into the similarities between the laws of thermodynamics and how they relate to emotional landscapes. . .look for this exciting discussion in the future! For, now, it is enough.

Perpetually Positive People

I had no idea how depressing my blog seems. Here I was, thinking I was making great progress in being happy/upbeat/positive about my life and then I went and read several blogs from other people--happy people, apparently. Boy, my blog sure seems glum to some of these other blogs. It was depressing to read such positive things from people who have amazing struggles to overcome! Imagine that, being discouraged over positive people! Well, I am trying. And despite how depressing my blog sounds, I am making progress. I probably will just never be one of those perpetually positive people. Sigh.

Two Helpful Things

So I was pretty discouraged when I wrote my last post. It's been several hours and I'm not feeling as down. Once again, one thing I find really helpful is my Tae Kwon Do class. The focus on my body and the forms I'm trying to learn and remember is very calming for me. I still feel deeply saddened and worried for my nephew and sister, but my outlook on life isn't so bleak. As far as my question goes, I'm still not sure all the pain is worth it, but what else is there? My options are limited, either live or die. And since dying is quite permanent I'm not willing to commit to that. So, I'm left with living. With that option one can choose to live well or live poorly. I'd rather live well, or at least as best I can at the moment. But I have yet to find out if I'm living well.

There is another thing I find really helpful--books, or stories. For some reason it's easier to get lost in the troubles on a page than it is in real life. I think it's because a good storyteller gets me to invest my emotions and energy into characters, but the disasters/problems/plot is ultimately resolved by the end of the book. Whereas in life, we aren't so lucky. We have to live it before we find out the ending. I hate that. I guess that's where faith comes in--believing that things will end well, even though everything seems disastrous at the moment. So, I have to ask myself "do I have enough faith to live and live well?" There's only one way to find out.

Personal Disasters

I find it really difficult to feel like life is worth living when I hear about the horrible things people have to deal with. Generally life goes on without major troubles, but then disaster strikes. I'm not talking about the earthquake, tsunami and such in Japan; although that is a terrible, terrible situation. But the things I fear are the personal disasters, the troubles we find ourselves in due to bad decisions, other peoples bad decisions, and just the basic shit that comes with being alive.

Thanks to anti-depression medication I have my depression under a modicum of control, but I just found out that my nephew is in a lot of trouble with the law as well as having his girlfriend die in his home, while they were both taking a Sunday afternoon nap. Granted, the two of them have made some lousy decisions in their lives, but still, my heart aches for him, for my sister, for his girlfriend's loved ones. I can't help but wonder if life is good enough to warrant going through such difficult times. My other sister lost her only child to a freak caving accident several years ago and now this sister has some horrible days/weeks/months ahead of her. When I think about all of the suffering in the world I get overwhelmed. I hate feeling this way about life, but I'm at a lost as to how to feel differently.

Wisdom is a Tree

I just finished the book "These is my words: the diary of Sarah Agnes Prine 1881-1901" by Nancy E. Turner. It was really good and I loved the main character, Sarah. She has a passion for learning that she describes as a greedy feeling. I relate to that. There's a quote I want to share:

". . . wisdom is not a path, it is a tree. . . I have been sad almost a whole year, thinking that taking that test was somehow the end of my learning and that not having that as a possibility in my future left a big empty spot in my life that the children and the ranch didn't fill. But my life is not like that, it is a tree, and I can stay in one place and spread out in all directions, and I can do more learning shading this brood of mine than if I was all alone. I declare, it is like some other part of me made up some rules about happiness and I just went a long with them without thinking. My heart is lightened so much that I am amazed at how sad I felt for so long."

This is similar to my struggles--I have been on a path to get my PhD, and every little detour has made me feel like I was getting farther from my destination, farther from that possibility. And I have had a big empty place in my life that my children, husband, and domestic life doesn't fill. I'm trying now to stay in one place, a place different from where I want to be, a place farther from the path of academia, and spread out in all directions. I haven't reached the point where I feel like I can do this better with my brood than if I was all alone, but I do know I have made up some rules about happiness that I've believed and gone along with them without really thinking. It's time to question the rules of happiness that I've made up and see if I can lighten my heart.

In a way, the direction my life has taken is requiring me to think outside the academic box. That is really hard for someone who grew up in an academic household and believed that was exactly how everyone else lived. Being on some university campus is as natural as breathing. I've worn these ideas for so long that it feels just like part of my own skin and now I'm trying to shed that skin but have no one to teach me how to do it. Maybe it's more like being a caterpillar and when the time is right I'll know how to spin my chrysalis. I would like to believe there is a butterfly inside of me, one that is independent of any university or institution. Maybe I just need to be patient and hopeful and try putting down some roots in this desert that is now my home.

Floodgates

Wow, it's been a very emotional weekend/new week for me. The floodgates have been open and I've spewed forth more tears than I knew I had in me. And this is all after an incredibly good therapy session that left me feeling more centered than I had felt in a long, long, time. So where did all this pain and sorrow and suffering come from? I have no idea. Maybe I finally got to a place where I really acknowledged how I've been feeling--acknowledged it from my emotional center rather than from my intellect. It's a bit frightening, yet strangely cathartic.

It all started out as feeling weepy. I would start crying a little at every sad story I heard, sad song, or basically anyone who mentioned every feeling sad at any time in their life. Usually I'm quite in control of my emotions--a fact my therapist can attest to. But this weekend I kept finding myself tearing up at the least little thing. Then yesterday it hit me and now it's been 2 days of uncontrollable sobbing. I had no idea what was going on with me. I thought perhaps it was time to be put away or something. But, I must say that I feel really good right now. Emotionally I have no idea where I'm at or where I may be going, but I am feeling quite refreshed. I had no idea crying could feel so good! Although I am not comfortable enough with crying to say it will be a common occurrence--old habits die hard and I still like being in control. :)

Hard to Understand

Some things I don't understand:

How happiness can be so fleeting while melancholy can drag on seemingly forever.

How my child's anxiety worries me more than my own anxiety.

How physical experiences can seem to overshadow spiritual ones.

Why depression is so easy and happiness is so hard.

How a place that claims to have over 300 days of sunshine a year has had so many cloudy days this year.

Why life is so confusing.

Slight Change

So I think there's a slight change in the air. I've been doing a lot of thinking and have started on a spiritual journey that seems to have lifted some of the burden of depression I've been feeling. Most of it is too personal to retell on a blog, but my heart doesn't feel quite so heavy. Am I happy? Well, if less-depressed is happiness, then yes. But if happiness is more than that, then probably not yet. What I am feeling is a bit more empowered, a bit more focused, less enervated. So this is all an improvement. I don't feel like I'm so alone, that there is a power outside of me and this earth that will help me carry this burden. And I'm trying to be grateful for my experiences with depression, because if nothing else, surviving depression makes me more empathetic to others.

Digressions

It seems that I think myself into dark places sometimes. This week has actually been quite productive and I have felt motivated to work on my dissertation. However, I find myself very angry and bitter right now. I feel as if my life is not what was meant to be (probably a lot of 40-something year olds think the same thing). But that begs the question--is there such a thing as "meant to be?" Part of me believes that yes, certain things in life happen for a reason and that certain people or events are meant to be. Another part of me thinks that if that is so, then where is the motivation to do anything? If everything is how it's meant to be, then all the good and bad, all of our choices, seem moot because regardless of what we do, it is all as it "should" be. So where does choice and power to change come in? It seems a bit fatalistic.

But I digress. I get tired of heavy thoughts and emotions. I need to find a way to let go of my resentment, "it isn't helpful." I put that in quotes because it's such a canned answer and truly isn't helpful to say. Of course it isn't helpful to hang on to resentment or to think negative thoughts (okay, here's my tirade against canned psychotherapy) but if all we had to do was choose not to think that way, wouldn't we all be happy? There is a certain element to choosing how we feel and think, but there is also something to said about brain chemistry, learned behavior, etc. I guess this is what this blog is about--finding ways to change my thought patterns and be happier. And finding ways to change behavior, finding ways to motivate myself. And for some people, I think all it does take is to decide to be happy. I however am not one of those lucky people.

Again, another digression. I can't remember what I was even going to write tonight. So maybe I'll just listen to good, depressing music and be happy in my sadness and bitterness. Or maybe I'll just get lost in a good book. I am lucky that right now I'm not so depressed that I can't find enjoyment in a good book.

Tell About It

So I've realized that I haven't been completely authentic with others about myself for a while. In the last post I put down the lines from a poem which goes:

Instructions for living a life:
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.

And I was thinking that I haven't been paying attention enough lately, or haven't been astonished enough, but after thinking about it some more, I think my real problem is that I haven't been following the last line of advice--tell about it. I used to be quite vocal about my opinions, but through the years I've become more quiet, in ways. I'm not exactly sure why this has happened, but I think when we don't voice how we truly feel, we run the risk of feeling inauthentic, which can lead to depression.

A friend and I have been talking about a book we read years ago called "Ishmael" by Daniel Quinn. It's a fantastic book and was very influential for me. In our discussions we talked about how we've changed with age--particularly how we've sort of sold out to the great machine of middle class America. I used to be so idealistic and passionate about my ideas, but lately I just accept one excuse after another and end up keeping my ideas to myself and living below my ideals. However, within the last several weeks, the idealist within me is waking and I can feel my passion stirring, and believe me, they're not happy. I know I've sold out; I know I've kept my opinions to myself so as not to offend people; I know I haven't been authentic. And although this may only be a partial cause of my depression, I think I know what needs to happen: I need to tell about those things that I believe in, those things that I find amazing and astonishing; I need to be authentic with myself. Maybe in doing so, just maybe I will find more happiness. I believe I will. It feels as if I am on journey of rediscovering myself. That has to be good.

Sometimes

I have been reading some poetry recently. Out of the book "Red Bird" by Mary Oliver. I'm new to her poems, but I quite like her. Sometimes I find poetry speaks to me in ways nothing else can. In one poem called "Sometimes" she writes:

Instructions for living a life:
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.

So, maybe that's what I need right now, to pay attention and be astonished and share my astonishment with others. I've been feeling like life is so daily lately. I've lost my astonishment and I haven't been paying attention. I think this is part of being happy.

Nothing's wrong and nothing's right

So I've been in the Tri-Cities now for 6 months and the other night I realized how much I miss Pullman. There is nothing wrong with where I'm at now, but there's nothing right either. There were a lot of things right about Pullman. I've been working hard to make TC work, but I suppose some things just take time. I wonder if I'll ever come to feel about TC like I feel about Pullman.

So how does one go about trying to embrace their life and circumstances as they are at the moment? I say that I'm trying hard, but what does that really mean? It means I'm putting myself in uncomfortable situations (i.e. being sociable and as outgoing as possible for me); I've introduced myself to the academic community here, even taken jobs that aren't a perfect fit for me; I have gotten my kids involved in activities outside of school and am supporting them in those; I'm experimenting with different anti-depressants, trying to find one that works; I've joined a book group and am involved in church; why do I still feel out of sync? Maybe it really is just a matter of time. Maybe I just need to "fake it 'til I make it." Can you lie to yourself successfully enough that you ultimately believe the lie, thus making it truth? I think one can do so, to an extent; but I also think that depression can stem from lying to ourselves. Hmm, it's complicated.

If something isn't wrong, but it also isn't right, then what is it? And is there anything you can do to make a non-wrong a right? What more can I do to make TC work for me? I don't know how much of my depression really comes from the move. Things definitely got worse for me, emotionally, when we decided to accept the job here in TC. It's almost been a year now. That's a long time to be depressed. I'm ready for a change but have now idea how to go about it. I don't know what more to do. Well, I suppose that's enough wallowing for now. Patience is a virtue.

Albatross

This morning as I was lying in bed trying to decide why I should get up, I had an epiphany. I had to get out of bed this morning because the dogs needed to be let out. Other mornings I get out of bed because I need to get the kids to school. I think that when I'm depressed I only do things if it's going to affect other people, when others are depending on me for something. For example, I prepare for my teaching because the students have paid tuition and deserve my best effort. Yesterday I gave a seminar that I spent many hours preparing for because the faculty who asked me to come in was expecting it. When I teach in Relief Society, I prepare for it because the Presidency is depending on me to do it and the women there deserve my attention to the lesson. I suppose in those last examples there's an element of personal pride (or fear of making a fool of myself by being unprepared), but I'm very conscious of what I "owe" the other people or what is expected of me.

So, my question is, what do I do for myself? During a depressive episode, I don't think there is much I do just for me. I think that is why I'm struggling with getting my dissertation done. Finishing my degree feels like something personal, I don't owe anyone anything, no one is really depending on me finishing my degree, so it feels impossible to do. Now, if my family was depending on me finishing my PhD so I could get a decent job and feed them, it'd be a totally different ball game. Right now, the only thing I can think of that I do totally because I want to do it, is Tae Kwon Do. And I find myself sometimes struggling with making the effort to get there 2-3 times a week. But I do because I love doing it and I love the focus it gives me for an hour at a time.

I really wish I could find some reason to get my dissertation finished. This has become an albatross hanging around my neck. At an earlier point, working on my degree was like watching the albatross flying free--it was a joy. But not now. What happened? I don't know if I need to just find some reason why I need to finish that is outside of myself, so I can get it done just like I make myself get out of bed every morning, or if I need to find the personal joy in it again. I'm not sure I can find the joy in it right now. There are so many road blocks and I'm so tired of falling down and dragging myself back up again. But in this state of mind/being I think I do need an external motivation; yet I have no idea where to find it. It's not enough that not finishing is adding to my depression--my own emotional needs are not reason enough when I feel like this.

But realizing all of this has been important for me. It's important as I learn more about what motivates me, what keeps me going when I'm so damned depressed, what I need to find for finishing my degree. This feels like a big life lesson learned.

Butt kickin'

I'm getting my butt kicked by this depression. Add in anxiety, depression's best friend, and I am a wreck. I really need to get my medication worked out, because I can't continue much longer going the way I am now--I'm overly anxious about my children, my work, my dissertation; I have many things that need to be done but I start to feel paralyzed and end up sitting and staring off into space, desperately trying to calm my nerves. And all I really want to do is let the depression wash over me and take me down, but I have just enough energy and sense of responsibility that I can't seem to let that happen (whether this is good or not is yet to be determined).

There's not a lot to say, except that I really hate the way I'm feeling right now. I'm tired of the constant stomach ache, the restlessness, and ultimately feeling paralyzed. It's just a cruel situation and I have no clue what to do.

Emotional Inversions

One problem with dealing with depression is that even when good things are happening it's hard for it to be enough. Right now, things are definitely moving in a much better direction, but everyday still feels like I just have to keep on working through every moment. In a non-depressed state, if I remember correctly, the good things, the good moments, they're enough and every day doesn't feel like work. I know I'm on the way out of the depression, but it's still so much work and I'm so tired of work with little return. It is hard for me to write a lot right now, just because my thoughts seems so repetitive and every day is just a lot of hard work without a lot of insight. Since this blog is supposed to be about "relearning" happiness, it doesn't seem quite right to simply write about all of the depressing thoughts I have. Anyway, I'm just slogging through every day right now. Wish there was more.

But it is an interesting conundrum--good things in and of themselves don't create the emotion of happiness, at least not for me. Depression is like a coating over everything, a veneer that makes the reality of the thing/moment/event different for the depressed person as compared with a non-depressed person. It was once described to me as a fog, or inversion, that makes it impossible to see, regardless of what you know as real. In a heavy fog, you may know there is a mountain, or river, or whatever, in the landscape, but the fog makes it impossible to see. With depression you may well know that there are good things in your life, but the depression makes it really difficult to see; it makes it hard to allow the good thing to work in your life. So how do you get the depression to burn off? What causes fog to burn off? What causes an inversion to dissipate? I'm not sure how the physics of this metaphor translate into the emotional reality. I'll have to think on that some more.

In the Moment

Well, I am finding that I can keep the depression at bay if I make myself focus on one thing at a time. This is harder than it sounds, but I'm finding that this seems to be the greatest benefit so far of starting Tae Kwon Do. During Tae Kwon Do I must focus solely on my body and the different activities our teacher is putting us through. And during this time I do not think about depression at all, I'm totally focused. So now I'm trying to do the same thing in other areas of my life: when I'm fixing food for the family, that's all I try and think about; when I'm getting up in the morning I only think about one thing--getting up (okay, 2 things, getting the kids off to school); but the trick for me is not to think about all of the things I need to do during the day or all of the things I want to get done. I think I am easily overwhelmed so I need to consciously focus my thoughts--write my abstract, review for my lab, practice the guitar, practice Tae Kwon Do, get the kids snacks, etc., etc. All of this seems to be helping a bit, but it's very strange and difficult to do. Usually I am thinking of at least 10 things at any given moment, and there tends to be an undercurrent of overwhelming myself emotionally. Maybe this is what is meant, at least in part, about being present or completely "in the moment." That seems to work for children--everything is about the "now" for them and even though their emotions tend to be a bit more raw, it seems like they can enjoy things more easily and get over disappointment much faster. So, this is my new strategy--focusing on what I'm doing at the moment. I'm not sure if this is making me "happy" but it sure as hell beats what I've been feeling over the last year.

Medley of Thoughts

What you can control:
My children are each struggling with various issues and I am trying to tell them that they need to learn to recognize those things they have control over and those things they don't. If they don't have control over something, then they need to let it go and not worry. If they do have control over something, then they have choices and can make them. Sounds like good advice, advice I should take for myself.

Metaphor for depression:
It feels as if my depression is an ocean and I can either sink or swim--but my swimming these days is simply a daily struggle to do the things I need to; swimming is not the opposite of depression, that would be land (in this metaphor). Depression is the water and if I don't struggle with it daily it will surround and consume me. Unfortunately, I'm not a very strong swimmer these days, but even dog-paddling is something and keeps me afloat. What I really want is to be on solid ground.

From your pet:
I bought a "Real Simple" magazine journal the other day. The title article is "Be happier this year" and it has 9 strategies to get there. I haven't learned a lot from it, but thought I would share a few things I liked. One article was 5 things you can learn from your pet:
1. Celebrate everything
2. Just being present is enough
3. (Brain) size doesn't matter
4. Don't try so hard
5. You can get along with anybody

So, this is my medley of thoughts for today.

One Thing is Certain

I may not know a lot of things, but one thing is certain: my bliss is in academia. Yesterday I got a phone call from a prof at the TC campus asking me if I could help teach the Bio 106 lab. That one invitation onto campus life was like a jump start. I'm struggling still, but suddenly there is something to struggle for. I know it must sound terrible that teaching can do for me what my children and family life can't, but that's the way it is. Maybe it is because my family is an extension of myself, whereas academia is simply at the core of my soul. It always has been, and it's emotionally costly for me to not be involved. I love being around people who are passionate about what they are studying and who love to discuss ideas. The subject doesn't really matter; I am happy studying or discussing literature, physics, history, linguistics, political science, art, anthropology, forensics, biology, enviornmental science, or botany. I think the only subject that might not make my list of fascinating things to study would be buisness, but almost anything else I can find interest in. :)

So knowing this should help. I've always sort of known, but after my experience yesterday, it has become quite clear and I am quite certain that for me to be truly happy I need to be in an academic setting, surrounded by people who love to learn. I'm an academic idealist, yet I am realistic enough to know that not everyone in academia feels the same way I do. But there are enough people out there who do; and there's always a student or two whose imagination catches fire with the right enthusiasm from a teacher. That's the stuff I love. That's the stuff I'm meant to be involved in. Now, I just need to remember that finishing my damnable dissertation is not about the dissertation but about getting myself in a position that will open the doors to a wide variety of academic positions. . . that is why I need to finish at this time, so my options remain open and that soon this type of life will be mine for the making.

Emotional Quadriplegia

Sometimes I think it would be helpful if there was an obvious physical disability that was associated with depression, such as being quadriplegic. That way others, myself included, could be duly impressed when I did things such as get myself out of bed in the mornings, make dinner for the family, read with the kids, help out in the kids' classrooms, or work 1-2 hours on my dissertation. If you saw a quadriplegic doing a bunch of these activities, you'd be amazed at the level of activity, especially given the level of disability. Being depressed can be like being an emotional quadriplegic, at least in it's severest forms. Sometimes I have to remind myself of how amazing my activity level is. This weekend I actually made two meals for my family, got dressed up and went to church and stayed the entire time when all I could think about was how nothing in life seems valuable or worthwhile--not even death.

I hate feeling this way, it's worse than feeling like sleeping all the time, for at least there is the desire for something, even if it is just sleep. As it is, sleep isn't all that desirable, nor is escaping in books or movies. All there is is a grand nothingness that is hard to fight. Fighting is almost impossible because there is no desire, so what is worth fighting for? And tomorrow I need to get the kids off to school and then what? Well, I'll just have to wait and find out what this emotional cripple can accomplish tomorrow.