Life, the Universe and the Melancholic

Today is New Year's Eve 2019. I have reflected a considerable amount about the year. Especially in the last couple of months leading up to the end of 2019. This year without doubt has personally been the worst year of my life. It sounds dramatic, but I lost my mind this year and I spiralled into a traumatic loop of panic attacks, anxiety, depression and all consuming suicidal thoughts. Any sense of self I had was stripped way and for months I was just surviving one moment at a time. Trying to find sense in it all for my children, my partner, my family...my self. I feel like I have lived 5 years in this one year. The person who was about to welcome in 2019 a year ago, is not the same person I am today. She just doesn't exist anymore and this person today writing this, is still finding her feet. I am thankful to be able to write it all down, a testimony of a mountain climbed. My own personal mind Mt Everest. I am thankful that I have been able to use my blog as a therapy of sorts

Blogger shouldn't have a view count per blog post in the settings. It's not like anyone is reading my nonsense anymore but me. But I'm what matters I suppose. Thank you Obi-wan Blog-nobi, you are in fact my only hope. Well probably not, but you're a help.  Anyway, it is that time of year again where I question if God or the universe manifests about 25% more humans and cars. The silly season indeed. The shopping ramps up, there seems to be all these extra people everywhere and extra cars on the road. And everyone is impatient and expressing their inner jerk. Just yesterday at the pharmacy a guy reversed out of the very small carpark all the while hanging out his car window yelling obscenities at a fellow motorist. I am not sure what it was all about, but my initial thoughts were, "Ahh the sounds of Christmas jerkery." We're in for a couple more weeks of it. And then it will turn into New Year jerkery, and back to school jerkery. But nothing quite measures u

At the end of last month I had my first appointment with a psychiatrist. It has been about four months or so of waiting to see this specialised mind doctor. Maybe longer, my brain is a bit of a fog with remembering the timeline of when my GP gave me the referral and I made the appointment. I know I sat on the referral for maybe a month. Well not actually sat on it, but hesitated to follow it up. I know I needed to follow it up, but I suppose I was hesitant to having a professional pathologising my situation, essentially dissecting my entire existence and distilling it down to a disorder, or permanent malfunction or maladaptation. In a way I was scared to start the process of untangling the messy ball of thread that my mind has become. My psychologist has helped, but a psychiatrist is a different kind of deal, they can actually diagnose you with legitimate, card carrying disorders and throw medication at you. I have had experience with a psychiatrist before. Not for myself, my daughter

I probably spend more time than I should on social media. Well definitely on Facebook. I often use Facebook as a bit of a place to vent. It's just accessible and easy to do so and has become a habit. I guess I hope that someone will see my vent or post and relate to my experience or maybe comment with their own experience. Or at the very least say "that's a bit crap, I hope your day gets better". People respond a whole lot more to the positive stuff though, it's likely the reason some people self censor and only share the upbeat stuff. Well that's not me. I have never been great at censoring my posts for the comfort of others or to appear as though I am doing well and life is fabulous. Yet despite my years of Facebook posting and  venting, I find myself in a predicament of late with my much used social media app. Since my mental health went and dumped itself in to the toilet, I have noticed a drop off of people commenting and interacting with my posts, the bor

Desperately lonely is a place I find myself in a lot lately. Stable and functional. Yet disconnected, discontent, and dissatisfied with my life. Depressed, sad and lonely. If I told my psychologist I felt desperately lonely, her response would probably be something like, "Well that's very strong, dramatic and emotive language..." and then proceed to navigate me to more positive waters. Yet when I hear her response, I interpret it as 'let's tone it down a bit and look at the situation with some pragmatism'. I have never been particularly adept at approaching my emotions with pragmatism, is anyone really though? Even though I have managed to appear stoic and contained in the face of adversity and some very sad circumstances life has thrown my way. It didn't mean I felt the emotions of those circumstances to a lesser degree. In fact I think trying to contain everything, meant all those emotions and feelings concentrated and each time something significantly c

It has been 7 weeks since my last bad day. In fact it was two bad days in a row. I was fairly non functional, burst into tears emotional, in general not coping with life. It was two days of crying, trying to be kind to myself and for the most part, assigned to my bed. Those two bad days were nothing compared to my really bad days back in March, April and May. Those two bad days would have been awesome back then. Back then I would have had to medicate  myself and spend the next however many days getting over a medication hangover. It is interesting how as time has rolled on, the bar has been set higher relative to my baseline of doing well or stability rather. So each increment of function that has returned and sustained itself with some stability , I have almost subconsciously bumped that bar up. I spoke to my psychologist about it at my last appointment. It is a double edged sword in a way. Bumping the bar up is not necessarily a bad thing, it can be helpful to improve in lots  of dif

I miss fun and laughter and joy in my life. Not that I don't have moments, it's just different now and has probably been different for awhile, the change happened subtly. In a way I didn't realise how much that black cloud had impacted my life until it sent a massive storm of torrential rain and destroyed my sanity. Lately I find myself thinking about all the joyful moments filled with laughter when I was a child and I can't help but make comparisons to what my children experience. They are governed by technology nowadays and opportunities for those moments of jokes and stories, the human connectedness, are limited. Though somewhat dysfunctional routines in our household does not assist with cultivating those opportunities. Unfortunately it is what it is and it is something that I can't tackle right now, much of my energy is spent trying to continue to be stable and keeping the day to day cogs turning. Of course life wasn't always roses when I was a little thou

Sometimes I feel like I am pretending that I am well for the comfort of others. As much as the mental health narrative is "It's okay to not be okay", much of the time I feel like the more apt narrative is "It's okay to not be okay. Just don't do it here. Or there. Or anywhere. And especially don't do it all over social media." You either hear the triumphant success stories, those that battle the black dog and come out the other side with somewhat "normal" functioning, managing their condition well and are now advocating for the cause. We love those stories, the hero triumphs over adversity and slays the beast as it were. The tragic flipside is the demise of those with mental health battles. Those that have a mental or psychotic episode and do something irredeemable or tragically they take their life. We're doing it wrong. As a society. We're not talking about that middle ground enough. Those that are still in the trenches, some are

Things I Know About Me: 1. I Facebook too much. 2. Like Bridget Jones I will always be a little bit fat, but swap little with quite a bit. 3. I will always be a little bit mad. Like crazy mad, not angry mad. 4. I will always be a little bit sad. 5. I will always feel like I am not quite enough. For myself or anyone. 6. I try my best. Sometimes my best sucks. 7. I am thankful for what I have and where I am. Most of the time. 8. I know love is infinitely expanding. There is always enough. I love quietly. I wish I could love all those I love, loudly and boldly. 9. I have learnt that acceptance does not necessarily equal approval. 10. I am a low maintenance human, with high maintenance emotions. 11. I will always look at the stars and moon in bewildered wonderment and question why we're all here. 12. I made lots of humans. They didn't exist last century. That blows my mind every day. 13. I appreciate it when people are straightforward with me, though sometimes it hurts

A lifetime ago I use to play the saxophone. Tenor saxophone to be exact. It was while I was in high school for about three and a half years. Concert band was kind of a big thing and I would be lying if I said I didn't have a bit of a crush on my saxophone teacher. He was a bit cool. I loved playing saxophone, I don't particularly think I was very good at it, but I tried my best. And there was a camaraderie that develops with the band folk. Looking back it was a special time during those teenage years. I gave up playing the saxophone when I started year 11. The thought of trying to do music for my HSC in the form of playing my saxophone, was altogether too daunting for me. I had to reluctantly hand my very loved tenor saxophone back to the music department.  Unfortunately it wasn't mine to keep.  I think at the time the band fees were going up too and it was a cost that was a bit too much. For years, and I mean probably a good 10 years, I would dream about that saxophone. I

Last week I had a psych appointment. I quite like my psychologist, rapport is quite important in the process of therapy, otherwise it just doesn't work. Plus she seems like a nice person and makes our chats seem more like friendly back and forth banter while steering my negativity towards the positive, and working on strategies to chip away at goals and encourage more opportunities for connection with family and friends. Two goals I went away with last week were to make regular playdates with my three year old daughter and make time for a walk or jog. Only once a week for each, for now anyway. Well I ticked both those boxes by Friday and I stretched myself even further by meeting up with a friend on Saturday, which I appreciated immensely and needed even more. The week went reasonably well. Friday night was a bit tough though. Every now and then I have a glimpse into those really bad early days. Like standing on the edge of a precipice and staring down into a fiery hell, with an e

Life has felt like existing in a vortex this year. Well I imagine it like that. I have just had no choice but to allow the process of this mental health breakdown to happen. Resistance is futile. The end of August and beginning of September resulted in another crash into despair. It sucked big time. August has been my most stable month to date, so to end it in tears and panic was frustrating. Fred made a short appearance. A cameo part you might say, but the crash wasn't quite as bad as usual, thankfully. No medicating my way out of it this time, just a couple of quiet days where the pressure was off and I retreated into my quiet world. And I cried. There was lots of crying. There always is. I find it tough to be with myself in floods of tears. When I was a kid and probably some of my teenage years, it was very easy for me to crumple into tears about anything. And I mean literally anything. I have many memories of my Mum telling me not to cry, always out of love. She didn't lik

I pondered whether to write this blog post. But here goes... Dear Friend, Once upon a time, what seems a lifetime ago, you and I had something special. We were young and life was wrapped in fun and laughter. You used to hold my hand and kiss me and whisper in my ear, "I love you".  And everytime you did, I was bewildered as to why. Why would you want me? Why love me? I never felt worthy of you, low self esteem and no confidence can do that to a young girl. You were my shiny thing which I loved and adored, like a trophy I held so tightly and declared to the world you were mine and I yours. You were but a spark I could never contain and I knew we were never meant for forever. I broke my own heart with my insecurities and wrote the obituary to our bond in a moment of careless stupidity. You broke me with your silence. The demise of us taught me a valuable lesson about loyalty. It is something that has stayed with me all this time. So when I heard your voice, the same one that

I am currently trying to finish listening to Jordan B Peterson's 12 Rules for Life. I started listening to the audiobook about 12 months ago and gave up as I found it a bit tedious to listen to. I don't know if it his voice or the constant to-ing and fro-ing between the rule or the point and the mythological, religious anecdotes and stories. And I understand that it is all relevant to the subject matter and the rules he is formulating, but it's all a bit long-winded. I have six kids, life is hectic, my brain frequently screams "Get to the point!", while listening to the book. I have been watching his lectures online and I think what is lacking in the audiobook, or what is not conveyed rather, is the passion of his convictions and ability to enter the magical state of flow in his process. This seems stultified in the structure of the book format, which is a shame, because he is a captivating speaker, who has propelled some radical commonsense thinking to the masse

It is my birthday. Well it was my birthday when I started writing this, I probably won't get to upload until tomorrow. Anyway. I always find myself in a state of reflection when birthday time comes around and this year in particular has been quite poignant. Hovering on the edge of the precipice, certain you are going to die and at your own hand mind you, because you have obviously lost your mind, that forces you into a live autopsy of your mind and life like never before. Reflecting on how far I have come in the past few months has meant that I have spent the last few days and today being very emotional. The distance of time since my acute episodes, has meant I have been able to view everything at a vantage point that I haven't been able to before. And I realised how close I came to not being here, how close I came to not having this birthday. There were days, if left alone and without my safety net, I am almost certain I would have ran out in front traffic or found the neares

My youngest turned three recently. She had good day by all accounts. Just a day at home with a few presents and cake after dinner with her siblings, myself and her Dad. We do most of our celebrations with no pressure. No massive parties, not even a quiet gathering of nearest and dearest. Just us. Well usually just us. It is just simpler, less stress. I don't feel particularly confident organising parties or events, and putting myself through unnecessary stress and bullshit, it is just not worth it.  Occasionally the two oldest teenagers have had gatherings for their birthdays with a few friends over, and it always causes my stress levels to work overtime. I guess a great deal of it comes from not feeling confident with the logistics of said gathering, but another aspect is our house and how much I feel it is inadequate for any such gathering. And not just that it is a bit old and rundown and small, but that it is also cluttered and untidy and for the most part smells like a zoo. W

A pause button for life would be nice. So I can catch my breath. The chances of that are about zero to none. So small moments are small victories. And maybe one day they will all add up to overcoming this black cloud. Depression tells me lots of things. "You are not worthy of anything or anyone. You are a terrible mother. You are a terrible partner. A terrible daughter and sister. You are a hopeless, pathetic friend. You are dependant and needy. You will never be any good. Your life sucks. You have no friends. No one likes you. You have no future. You should just jump off that cliff now. No one will care." And the worse thing is you believe it, despite evidence to the contrary. My logical brain and depressive brain battle it out on the daily. Then add in my anxious, panicky brain Fred, and basically I am screwed. I think one of the challenging things about this mental illness caper, is how utterly self absorbed I feel. It makes me loathe myself even more. "Hi there,

"Hi Hazel,  it's just Trish from next door letting you know about Phoebe's little girl. So I'll talk soon. Bye." This was a message left on my answering machine this morning. Moments before, I was standing at the sink, lost in my thoughts. Mainly worrying about an impending panic attack, a bad day loomed like a big black shadow. I just wasn't sure when it would pounce, but I could feel it coming. After being on leave for two weeks my partner started back at work, so it is always a challenge to get myself through the day without him around as a safety net. I was worrying about how the day would go. How I would keep the two year old from hanging off me all day, or at least keep her entertained. Thinking about the jobs I needed to get done, while simultaneously being furious about our house being a shambles and thankful that we even have a house. Anyway. The phone rang while my brain was cluttering itself with thoughts. I glanced at the number. "No idea wh

I am currently listening to this book "Lost Connections - Uncovering the real causes of depression - And the unexpected solutions" by Johann Hari. It is a good book, highly recommend. Since trawling the internet about depression, anxiety, medication, panic attacks etc, I came across a few recommendations for the book. I have a very under used Audible account, so it is currently having books about everything depression and anxiety  downloaded at lightning speed. When you have been as unwell as I have, you will throw everything you can in the mixing bowl of getting well. A few new audio books can't hurt. This book has been a bit of a revelation, that is if you can have revelations bit by bit. I am two-thirds of the way through and so much has resonated with me. I am like a case study for this book, it is any wonder I fell off the mental health wellness ship without a life saver. Sustained and chronic long term stress, sprinkled with a few traumatic events and gradually my