Wednesday, December 02, 2009
It Gets Worse...
She owns her own home on 2.5 acres of fenced in property. She has two dogs that my dog adores. When we go there it isn't anymore work to take care of one extra dog, because really all she needs to do is put out an extra bowl of food and water (which I, of course, would bring with me, so there is no extra cost). I have dog-sat all three of them for a few days at her place before and found it no more difficult than taking care of my one dog.
At first my sister said sure, bring him up. So I made arrangements with a friend to take the 10hr return trip with me. A couple hours after my sister said okay, she phoned me back and said, "Can you find somewhere else to keep your dog?" I told her I had no where else to go. She said she couldn't take the dog, and I could hear her husband yelling at her in the background.
I got off the phone and started crying. I felt completely abandoned at a time when I really need my family to help me. It was really hard for me to reach out and ask for help. I know the dog is my responsibility. I know when I got the dog I made a decision to care for him. I also know I am an adult and need to take care of myself...
I know all this, I am generally, despite being so depressed, very, very independent. I always have been. I rarely ask my family for help. I feel so intensely alone.
It seems like my family thinks I could choose to be different if I just tried harder. Honestly, sometimes I feel like I am being treated like a drug addict, or a family member who is a criminal, rather than a family member with an illness. It feels like my family has decided that tough love , cutting their ties and there losses, and allowing me to hit rock bottom is the only way to saveme from myself. It is as though they feel that if they just push me far enough away my problem will disappear.
My other sister phoned me last night and I was really honest with her about how I was feeling. I told her that sometimes I feel like no one in the family cares about me, like the only way my family would recognize I need help would be when it was too late to help me.
She said, "that is just the depression talking, and they love me, but they have their own families".
I replied," I understand that, and I know your families take a lot of love, attention and time. I try not to ask for help, because I know you are all busy with your own lives, but for me, you are my family. I have no family of my own to help me. I have tried to find help in the community, but I cannot afford to pay very much, and there are no resources that I can find to help me get the treatment I need right now" . I feel desperate for help.
"We cannot understand what you go through.", she said.
Very calmly, but assertively I decided to be completely honest about what it feels like to be me, with my illness, in my family. I asked, "Why have none of you ever taken the time to learn about what it is like for a person to be clinically depressed? Or asked me what would help me? Or even sat down and taken the time to find out what it is that I struggle with. Not one of you has read a book, or tried to see how incredibly hard it is for me to manage an illness like this. Why has no one in my family (except my Mom...but she is dead)...cared enough to learn how to help or be supportive of me?"
When I write what I said down, I feel guilty for saying these things. My intention was not to make my sister feel bad, but to get her to see why I might feel so alone and uncared for in the only family I have. For years I have avoided expressing how saddened I am by the lack of support I get from my family. I am desperately in need of some support now, and I don't feel like I can get through this alone anymore.
I cannot imagine one of my sisters, or my dad or stepmom, becoming chronically and severely ill for years, and my not wanting to help them in anyway I could. To me, that is a familial responsibility, and an extension of your love for that person. Caring for family no matter what seems to me what a family is all about.
I know I cannot dictate, or change, how other people feel. People show love and feel love in their own way. People understand the role of, and their role in, the family in their own way. Knowing all that doesn't make me feel any less alone.
I feel like I really am so depressed that unless I can get more help than I have, unless I can somehow get some relief for awhile, I don't think I can continue in this life. It is too much for me to handle. I feel like a person, screaming in constant pain, and there is medication that could help them, but no one is willing to give it to them, and they are unable to get it themselves.
You know what scares me and saddens me about this whole situation (trying to get outpatient ECT, lack of family support, lack of community support and resources, bizarre and unhelpful treatment protocols etc...What scares and saddens me is that I know there are people who are far more mentally ill than I am, whose families have either completely abandoned them, or were never there for them in the first place. Compared to lots of people I have a caring family and I have a difficult time living with my illness. How hard must it be for those who literally have no one? The world is a sad and confounding place to me.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
I Wish My Family Members Cared Enough to Become Informed
Me: "Sister I need help. I don't know what to do anymore. I am so tired all the time. You know how people with cancer or hepatitis feel so tired they can't do anything? I feel like that. Exhausted. I am scared. I have suicidal thoughts all the time. I am so sick I want to give up. I won't because I love you and our family so much, but I can't handle this anymore. I need help."
Sister: "You are not sick. You do not have cancer, or hepatitis, or any other illness. All you need to do is get doing things. Get busy. Go kayaking, go for a walk, do your art."
Me: "I have an illness that makes it hard to do things most times. I have no energy. I am sick."
Sis: "You are not sick, you don't have an illness. You are depressed."
etc., etc.
I am lost. I really am sick. Last week I asked my sisters to call me every couple days, just to let me know they love me and care about me, I felt it would help me stay here. I felt really proud of myself for asking for help. Once again though, I reached out for help and have been pushed away.
I am so depressed I am having a hard time functioning. No one sees it. Not the Art clubhouse, where I have tried to explain I need some concessions during this time; not my family...who are telling me not to phone.
On some level my boyfriend is there for me and I really appreciate his being there, but I brought up the fact that I wanted to go to the hospital for ECT and he flipped out; saying if I went to the hospital I would be abandoning him.
I tried to explain that my going to the hospital was nothing about abandoning him, and everything about taking care of myself. He said:, "Don't turn this around." (as though I am abandoning him, but just excusing it by saying I am helping myself???? I don't get it.
He constantly denies I am depressed, or that I have anything to be depressed about. The latter may be true, but from my perspective it seems I am depressed...even if most others in my life don't think so. I really get confused with his attitude, given he has a mental illness and is depressed himself.
I feel so intensely frustrated that those closest to me are telling me I do not feel, or look like I am, depressed. I feel like screaming I am so frustrated. I know I must annoy others...but imagine what I feel like, never getting well....nothing ever working.
I do have a couple people who are very supportive. My friend E is a saint. I feel blessed that she continues to listen to me and be by my side. Same with Dr. X. My boyfriend too, despite his denial of my depression, stays by me and holds me when I need to be held. I have met a new friend to...A and she is so sweet. I hope I can be the friend all these people need when they need a friend.
You might think it was a blessing for others to believe you capable of big things, but sometimes, when a person like me is extremely ill it is hard for others to see such a "strong" person needs help.
Please, if a family member has a mental illness, and is struggling, please take the time to educate yourself about what your family member is struggling with. I feel abandoned and dismissed by my family. I love them so much, yet given I have struggled for years and years, have lost my job, and have basically lost my interest in life...I feel pretty hurt that they have not taken any time, or effort to educate themselves about how these mental illnesses impact the people who have them.
I feel like they do not love me enough to even spend an afternoon at a depression information session, or to read about what it is like to live with severe and treatment resistant depression, or even to come over to my place and go see Dr. X with me. I feel really alone when it comes to my family. So alone I cannot even express it in words...
Friday, September 11, 2009
I'm an Afterthought...and that hurts.
Dr. X says...(I am paraphrasing with my understanding of what he said...I can't remember exactly what he said), I need to hold on to the moments of happiness, or the moments of joy I do have. That if my mood remains like this I need to try to recognize there are moments that I enjoy.
That is not the life I want. I do not feel a life with extended periods of intensely painful and severe depression symptoms punctuated by brief moments worth experiencing is, for me, a life worth experiencing.
I know, and believe that for some people this might work, or sustain them. I think I used to manage by knowing this would pass, and things would get better. I no longer believe that. I am so tired of trying, and failing to get well.
I am so sick of trying treatments, therapy, medicines that never work, tired of trying to explain what is going on to my family (who I love so immensely it hurts). It hurts so much that I love them and need them and want so badly for them to understand me, to reach out, to help me...and they don't seem to get how much I need them.
I was thinking about why, at 44, I still so desperately need my family's approval, love and support. It feels so childish. I realized yesterday that a life is worth experiencing and living if you have someone who thinks of you on a regular basis. It is as though you really exist if someone wants and needs you here. I mean really needs you...in the way I desperately need my family.
I used to feel my Mom was like that. She would call me and ask how I was, and as if I was okay, or wanted to talk. She always had time for me. She went out of her way to love me, to visit me, to include me in all family functions. I remember thinking there was something pathological about how much I needed my Mom all the time. I was very independent and too care of myself, but always there was an underlying need to be loved by my Mom. It seemed unadult like on one hand, but on the other hand her love sustained me through even the worst of the worst.
Now I feel like my Dad and Stepmom see me as the "problem child" and have taken a ..."wait til she hits rock bottom stance"...as though I were an addict in need of toughlove, rather than mentally ill. I feel as though they actually avoid me.
note: I don't believe addiction is treatable with toughlove...I think it is an illness too. I think all humans need love and compassion to fulfill themselves.
My sisters' have their own family's to worry about...so I am a passing thought. I feel so alone. I feel lie a burden. I feel like I am an afterthought, a sister and daughter who has completely disappointed her family. I feel avoided. I want my Mom back.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Invalidated
Therapy always leaves me feeling "heard", and (mostly) understood. This is something intensely important for me. I think today's session revealed why these two things are extremely interconnected and even more importantly, why they are so important to me and my well-being.
I just returned from a short vacation at a horse ranch and spa in the B.C. interior. I went with my beau, my friend E and my sister and 2 nieces. I haven't seen my sister for a while. When she came to my house in preparation to leave she told my boyfriend and I that my Dad might "pop in" to the ranch to visit.
This information put a damper on my vacation from the start. I love my Dad, but he is often not very nice to me. I find him very difficult to be around. To me it seemed intrusive for him to jut show up.
When I mentioned my stress about Dad coming my sister began saying things like:
- "He's not like that".
- "You need to give him a chance".
- "He does not treat you poorly".
- "He is always nice to you".
- "You know Dad, he just doesn't know how to talk, and you make it worse by getting hurt by him"
- "You have to get over your problems with Dad"
I felt completely letdown by my sister. She has seen my Dad reduce me to tears more times than probably I can remember. She hears and watches him ruthlessly tease me and belittle me. I thought she recognized why I so often feel hurt by how it treats me. Apparently, according to her, Dad isn't the instigator, in fact, he does not treat me poorly at all. It is just my wrong perceptions that hurt me.
I am willing to concede, that after years of emotional, and at times when I was a child and a young teenager, physical abuse, that I am sensitive to how he treats me. I know sometimes I overreact to small triggers. I believe though, that this overreaction is not my fault, but the fault of a man, who is supposed to be my father, continuing to abuse me, and destroy what little self-esteem I have left. At times I think he belittles me, and holds back his love from me, for the fun of it, just to watch me fall apart and cry.
It is funny (not ha, ha...but strange funny) that this weekend when my sister and I were canoeing near my Dad's canoe, we sped up really fast and in unison yelled, "Dad, look at us". We both cracked up when we realized some small child inside ourselves was still screaming, "Daddy, Daddy, look at me, look at me".
To make things worse my sister also began lecturing me on how:
- "no wonder you are depressed. you sleep so much, how are you ever going to get well if all you do is sleep?". (this comment came 1/2 way through the vacation, just when I was marvelling at my ability to do as much as I was, when I felt as depressed as I felt)
- "If you did more you would get better" (neglecting that to do more I would need to have the missing motivation, energy, and mood, and ability to do more...all these have been ripped from me throughout this MDD
- " You are never going to be someone unless you get doing things." Translation: your life will never amount to anything if you do not get back to work. You are choosing to stay depressed. You are only an important person if you are working and contributing to society.
There were more comments like these throughout her lectures...the thing that really hurt me, was that I thought she was the sister that understood how hard I try. I thought she understood how depressed I am, and how that impacts my ability to do things.
On top of this my boyfriend talked to me about how, "You are not sick, nothing is wrong with you" A statement that left me feeling really unheard, and misunderstood. It is not that I want to be sick, or seen as sick, but I also do not want others to think nothing is wrong with me, and I am just to lazy to try harder in my life.
I talked to Dr. X about what went on with my sister and my boyfriend, but I could not really place why I felt as hurt as I did. Dr. X said maybe it was because I felt invalidated by their comments.
That is EXACTLY what I felt and feel when these kinds of discussions take place. My family is not listening to me. They are not understanding how difficult this battle is for me. I feel like I am battling for my life, but they do not even acknowledge I am in a battle. They see my difficulties as a character flaw.
Dr. X and I discussed how both my sisters', and my Dad's expectations of performance are mirroring the malevolent feelings of guilt I have about not working; how the family belief system is so ingrained in all of us that it just keeps replicating this guilt, and guilt inducing, behaviour in everyone in our family. It is true. I belittle and poke and prod myself to do more, do something, get going, get active....Get better...get back to work. I have become the voice of my father, and the voice of my sister...that why it hurts so much to hear. I am hearing the same guilt producing words I hear every single day from myself.
I know my sisters both love me. I think my Dad probably does too. When I realize their voices are replicating negative patterns that are held deep within our family's psyche. I recognize these thoughts and feelings are held unconsciously, and so deeply they may always be there.
On many levels I know my sisters, my Dad, and my boyfriend are really trying to help me. I understand they may see their comments as encouraging, and helpful. I think they want what is best for me. Sadly, when I hear these kinds of comments I feel he exact opposite: I feel unbearably guilty, alone, unheard, and invalidated.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Hidden

I am interacting.
I suppose many would see this as a gift...the ability to pretend, or actually become "normal", i.e. my pleasant self, when I need to. It may seem something like a superhero's ability to become an ordinary human when walking amongst the general public.
There are costs to this way of being. When I am severely depressed the energy it takes to be what I think others need me to be is exhausting. I often leave a social function feeling so much fatigue I want to throw up. The second I walk out the door intense depression sets back in, and I feel exhausted; even more so than my general day to day exhaustion.
The other difficulty I encounter, and this one I find so frustrating I want to scream, is that people don't believe I am sick, or depressed. If I reach out, or open up and bring up how depressed I am, I often (more often than not, hear so many stories about how friends, relatives, family members of the person I am talking with suffer from a depression much worse than mine.
Sometimes I just let the comments go, because it is not a contest...if they think that is the case who am I to argue. So often though I feel like my pain is being dismissed as mild, or not worth worrying about, or even worse, that I am being told I am not depressed at all.
This happened last night. I managed to open up to someone about my mood disorder and they immediately told me their sister had a depression "...much worse than {mine}". The sister had had a breakdown, ended up in care and during one episode became catatonic and had to be hospitalized.
That sounds like a very severe depression to me. It is very sad. How though is it worse than mine...years and years of cycling, no medications that consistently help, or if medications help side effects that impact my life, isolation from most of the people I know, loss of my job, paranoia, fear suicidal ideation loss of pleasure, fatigue, inability to motivate myself...and an increasing sense that I want to die all the time?
Last night every time I would express what my struggle was like this person would interrupt half way through to explain how I wasn't that depressed. Eventually I just became quiet and listened. I felt really dismissed and vulnerable for opening up myself only to be told others are far more depressed, and that I really had not experienced a "real" depression, not like other people have.
I am sure some others are far more depressed, though I do not understand how a person would manage to stay on this earth much more depressed than I feel sometimes. It is a brutally difficult battle at this severity.
I am sitting here right now, just trying to hang on. I feel so isolated and scared. I cancelled a volunteer luncheon I was supposed to go to because I am so depressed I feel physically ill. I know I will be in trouble for cancelling, because I have missed so many meetings recently, but I just don't have it in me to be fake, or for my mood to increase to please others, only to make me more intensely depressed and tired later.
I know it is weird that I care that others see how depressed I am. It is not that I want others to see how depressed I am, or to say yes you are severely depressed, or even to empathize or sympathize. I just want others to know I am not slacking, or lazy, or using the system, or getting disability for something that isn't that difficult to manage. I want others to know I am struggling against an illness just as severe and real as any physical illness. I want others to know I am trying as hard as I can, but my enemy is vengeful and strong. Maybe too, I am reaching out for help.
