it isn't the same anymore...

I think I am only now starting to realize why the last episode of How I Met Your Mother (from here on in referred to as HIMYM) struck a real chord with me. I was emotional when my all-time fave series, "Friends" ended, but I have been ruminating over the "Last Forever" episode of HIMYM stuck with me even months later. And I didn't know why. Initially, I chalked it up to the network airing it during a turbulent period of my depression. Or that I think that whole Ted and Robin ending sucks (it does, but the alternate ending solved all of that hoopla).

I think it's more than that. The characters are roughly close in age to where I am at now. Having gone through a divorce, it was hard to see one of my favorite couples go through what I did...it sounds so silly, but I remember the folks in my life not getting why I was opting for a divorce, or the ones that did understand not really understanding how it feels. Now, as we all get older, more and more peers are starting to "get it" firsthand, unfortunately - it's something I don't wish on anyone. I learned a lot, but that experience left me jaded and scarred and I think only now am I letting myself be vulnerable to that.

I think the friendship stuff got to me the most. Watching the HIMYM gang drift. The girls of Sex & the City managed to make it work. So did the gang at Central Perk. But that wasn't real. The way things unfolded in the HIMYM finale was alarmingly true to life. I talk with Mike a lot about how easy it was to form lasting and deep friendships in high school and college. It was even easy to sustain friendships in those first couple of years after school because a lot of our friends live relatively nearby.

But then people get married. Divorced. Pregnant. Fired. Sick, Jaded. Lost. You name it. Life happens. And it comes at you fast and hard. And those formerly easily-maintained bonds fall by the wayside and it's no one's fault. Sometimes it is, but for the most past we drift naturally. No more bonding over shared academic interests and favorite pubs. No more experiencing the common feeling of living in a residence hall - an experience that I somehow had the emotional fortitude to endure throughout all of my undergrad years - and as an RA!

The drift makes sense and it's a fact of life, but it doesn't stop stinging. And when you're like me and depression and anxiety waves wash over you...and it takes effort to brush your hair and work and even get out of bed, it's hard to gain a realistic perspective or insight. It's also hard to know when not to blame your own mental illness and instead blame someone else for just being plain negligent.

Depression makes you loathe yourself, Guilt washes over you along with the sadness and loneliness. You see the worst case scenario all of the time because you live in a tunnel with all roads out leading to negative outcomes. It's the illness and it's not real, but it feels like it is. Same thing with the evolution of relationships as we grow older. It's nothing personal, but when you feel the loss it doesn't hurt any less.

Growing up is hard. I think all my work in higher education delayed my journey out into true adulthood on some levels...Very emotional these past couple of days. Trying to see the light instead of the dark at the end of the tunnel. Trying to remember that I'm so much farther along in the tunnel than I was in the spring. It''s just hard when your best friends don't live across the street or down the hall of your college dorm. I miss those school bus rides. Or the movie nights in the college rec room. The campus events that I got to attend instead of work at. The late-night shared pizza orders and trips to the crappy basement-esque bar. Half-priced appetizers after work. Always feeling loved, like I was the piece of a larger, really great puzzle. I am thankful for all of my current "puzzles" but miss fitting into more of them in a natural and organic way.

I took those sweet days of my early 20s for granted and while I wouldn't go back to that way of life for good (I enjoy grown-up paychecks, thank you very much) , a day or two would be quite the vacation from all of the intentionality and responsibility.

Dreaming of it right now....


-L

It's been awhile

...Yes I am aware of the reference to the well-known Staind song in my post title and it was totally intentional, as Aaron Lewis has one of the best voices I've ever heard in my life. But it has been. I was working today (ironically, I write for a living) and realized I hadn't written for myself in a long time. A lot has happened and things have been a whirlwind.

Mike and I are moving to a townhouse at the end of next month. So we have roughly five weeks to finish packing and to purchase the additional things we need to make the house a home. I say this because we are gaining 200 square foot in additional living space. It's a sweet little rental community, close to shopping and highways, but in a small town (well, as "small" as it gets in the Philadelphian urban sprawl). So best of both worlds...10 minutes further from my family, but it's not a permanent thing and not a long addition to travel time in the grand scheme.

We are excited to live in a two-story dwelling - we both grew up in houses with multiple floors and miss the boundaries that can be created from that (e.g. I finally get my office, Mike can watch loud TV when he comes home and not wake me, the dog and cat can coexist peacefully, the cat has a comfortable second-story view from her window sills)...we are also REALLY excited to have our own personal washer/dryer, big windows, warmly painted walls, an extra half-bath and a low-key pet-friendly community. On a personal note, I am excited that the community has a comfy clubhouse with free WiFi, so I can either work from my office or from there. I want so badly some days to have an alternative to our living room sofa (our current "office" is too tiny to serve as a work space), but socially the places in Quakertown are just too crowded and they're like that all of the time - think the large public library, Starbucks...not exactly calming and intimate. Plus, we have a free fitness center on premises so I ca finally avoid making excuses for my sedentary lifestyle and exercise to increase those endorphin levels just in time for the holidays.

I am still socially anxious. And I am depressed. But it's feeling less hopeless and it's getting easier to pinpoint things that exacerbate the condition. And living in a warm, happy, homey space that really feels like "home" will do so much for not only me, but for our family. Mike and I have been miserable living in a poorly maintained apartment complex and even our cat has had what we believe to be anxiety episodes this year. Now, she gets her second story refuge and we get our first real "home" as a family - we've lived in college apartments and cheap rentals for too long. Very thankful for Mike's promotion and my steady stream of business. We finally feel as though we have some good karma going. It's not always peaches, but it's better than it was. Thank God for all of it.

-L

Loss

Coping with the loss of a loved one is hard for anyone, regardless of mental state or whether the beloved was human or animal. This week, my parents' cat Sweetie was hit by a car suddenly. He was a stray that somehow by the grace of God found my mom (no joke...he magically showed up at their doorstep one day asking for food until she caved and bought that first can of Friskies)...and two years later, he went from a wiry-looking, weary little hunter to my mom's smoking buddy and my dad's little grilling companion. He was so happy that he willingly shared his dry cat food with the mouse my parents have been trying to shoo away from their house for months now (no killing traps for the Petrillos, but one would've assumed the cat would do the trick).

Needless to say, it was a shock that our family's "retired" cat was motivated enough to dart out into open traffic to fetch an animal or object, having no idea that he would end his own life. I grieve this week. For my mom and dad's loss and their deep sadness. For the way our poor boy went (without suffering though, thankfully). For my own loss exacerbated by my depression. I find myself seeking out my own beautiful feline, Lucky and hugging her a little tighter. I didn't know that the last time I saw Sweetie would be my last. And you never do really know, I suppose.

I also grieve for many other things that have changed since I came to terms with being clinically depressed and anxious. I don't want to mislead. I am in a MUCH better place than I was at year's start. I actually feel human again. Whether or not you personally believe in medicine for the treatment for mental illness...I don't care. That in itself is a feat, to not value others' input so much. But my medicines have singlehandedly saved me. I still panic and freak out, but I can manage it better than before (not as well as a typical person...but baby steps, my friends). The medicine and the therapy, and the conscious decision to change my lifestyle in a number of ways has saved me. Or at least set me on the path to salvation.

But a lot has happened as a result of all this. I feel that I've been inaccessible at times because of how crippled I felt from the sadness and fear...and as a result, I'm left with a small group of dedicated friends and loved ones that have shown consistent and unconditional support in many ways (visits, cards, emails, online messages, etc)...and I've received support from places where I'd least expect. For that, I am so grateful. But I have also experienced relationship losses...one of those "knowing who your true friends are" kind of things when you're at your worst. A valuable lesson, but a hurtful one nonetheless for someone who loves with all she has. I'm learning that relationships that drain and leave you feeling depleted on a regular basis are no good. Better late than never to learn this. No friend or relationship is perfectly supportive. But striving to be your best never hurts anyone. So I continue to. And now, I have come to expect the same in return.

Also, this is the first year since I was five years old (legit) that I am not preparing for the start of an academic year. I literally went from preschool to K-12 to college to graduate school to working in higher education for four years or so. It's a loss, but a welcomed one and a much-needed one. It's nice to be the maker of my own schedule and to be able to take cry breaks. Or PSL breaks (fellow Starbucks fans get me on this). Or to take mental health days (legitimately, for doctor visits and informally when I'm in a bad mood) and not have to gain approval or feel stigmatized. It's definitely weird to not be a part of the buzz of the academic world this fall, though. And maybe someday I'll yearn for it again. But if it continues to feel this good not to be a part of it, then I'm satisfied to applaud my higher ed and teacher friends as they begin their busy seasons. I'll keep my place on the sofa warm as I watch "Different World" reruns and do some editing work on my trusty laptop, PSL in hand.

For now, I'll keep writing away and healing away. And thinking of my beloved Sweetie, lost too soon.

-L

How to help

With Robin Williams tragically dying from suicide last week, I think depression is on a lot of folks' minds in the aftermath of it all. Mental illness is one of those things that, while widely de-stigmatized over the past decade (I was very secretive as I sought treatment in high school and in college), is still one of those topics that many fail to understand. Of course, there are a number of exceptions. There are psychiatrists, social workers, therapists, counselors and various other care workers who see this kind of thing regularly. There are also folks that deal with some type of diagnosis themselves - this can range from mild Generalized Anxiety Disorder to the level of anguish that Robin Williams was apparently dealing with - the kind of profound sadness and hopelessness that drives a person to take her/his own life. There are also those dedicated and committed partners, family members and friends that strive to learn more and empathize when they learn a loved one is in anguish.

I used to fail to understand suicide and the thought patterns that led depressed and suffering folks down such a final and irreversible path. I personally never took that path because I did not want my partner, family and friends to have to live with the aftermath. No one can really help it when a person dies of natural causes. But if a loved one commits suicide, you're left wondering a lot of things. What did I do to cause this? Could I have prevented it from happening? Even in my darkest hole of a mood, I  kept in mind that it wasn't my destiny to feel soulless forever, It would get better. It had to.

Not everyone is lucid enough to come to that conclusion in the heat of a manic episode, though. I think I finally get that and it took losing one of the best actors of my lifetime to see that. I understand that suicide can be perceived as selfish because of what it does to those around the deceased. Until you've experienced depression on a level that goes beyond "feeling sad," or you have taken care of someone in this condition on a regular basis...you wouldn't understand. Failing to understand fully is acceptable, but it's not OK to judge. As I've come to learn this year, it's rarely ever  "OK" to judge. 

There are a lot of resources out there for folks that want to learn more about depression, anxiety and the like. Folks that suffer can explain it to loved ones in the best way they know how. And what I've learned is that, no matter how much I try to make people in my life "get it," some just don't or refuse to. And that's OK. That's not my burden to carry, nor should they feel guilty for not being able to relate on a firsthand basis. But how does a family member or a close friend help?

Well, there are a number of related Buzzfeed lists and HuffPo articles out there that have been very popular since Robin Williams passed away, so this topic is buzzworthy. These articles tell you what not to do. I can't tell you how many times I've had to bite my tongue when someone says something well-intentioned but unhelpful/offensive to me. You can probably see the teeth marks in my tongue. :) But instead of focusing on what people are doing wrong, I want to provide some perspective regarding ways to potentially help someone dealing with depression or any kind of long-term mental anguish.

Don't pretend like you get it and don't try too hard to. Educate yourself, but don't pretend like what you or your friend Sue is dealing with is the same as what the distressed person in your life is dealing with. Different people have different triggers, thresholds for emotional pain, clinical diagnoses...and the list goes on. Everyone is different. You are not the same as Sue. And Sue is not the same as your friend Harry, so comparing the still-depressed Sue to Harry, who "conquered" his depression using methods A an B...it's doing Sue more harm than good. What you think may serve as motivation can make someone feel as though they're not living up to the world's expectations, or more specifically, yours.

Just listen. Agree that what your loved one is dealing with is hard. Thank them for sharing their story with you. Ask what you can do to help. "I hear you, friend...that really sucks that you're dealing with those feelings. Is there anything I can do for you?" Just knowing that there's a support system available that is willing and flexible means the world. At least it has for me. And if the person is dealing with social anxiety in any form, other forms of communication can  take the place of in-person support if the suffer isn't up to visitors or willing to talk it all out on the phone. Emails, cards, social media...the smallest I-love-yous do a world of good. And if someone isn't in a place to respond, give it time. Maybe they're not up for karaoke night, but a nice Hallmark card goes a long way. Or a reaffirming text. It's easy for others to move on with their lives and forget to include folks stuck in manic episodes because those folks aren't up for big, fun adventures and often push loved ones away unintentionally while suffering on the inside.

Understand that a depressed person probably doesn't want to be that way. I would gladly give up a limb (literally) to go back to the week before my breakdown and do it all over again knowing what I know now. Or to be reborn without the predisposition to being depressed and anxious. To be the kind of person that takes it all in stride. Also understand that depression does mean that a person may not have the capacity to be the most social, humorous, optimistic or romantic at this point in time. This may be finite, it may be permanent. It depends on the person. Recovery takes as long as it needs to take and there is no timetable for when a person "needs" to start feeling better so that others around them feel less awkward. 

I got told by a former supervisor once that I didn't "look" anxious etc. and this person was shocked that I'd been suffering. It's often said that when a person breaks like I did, it's from trying to be strong for too long. I'm learning in therapy how to give myself grace and permission to not be the best at everything this year. Do the same for friends and family that may be suffering.  

And take care of yourself. It can be hard to be around a person who is as her/his lowest levels of depression and fear. Learn how to care for yourself and how to be a good supporter through reading, therapy, co-therapy with the sufferer...whatever it takes. Lastly, throw away the practice of being judgmental. There's just no room for it. Unless you've walked a mile in someone's shoes...

L

I'm getting older, too...

So the good news is I am still thankful, above all else. Thankful for having a support system in Mike, my immediate family, my aunt, my animals and friends both in person and through the wonder of technology. Also thankful for good physical health and an effective change in medicine over the past couple of weeks. I feel like I'm timidly coming out of another "low" in this journey that's lasted all year so far.

It's weird. I would cut off a limb to not be prone to anxiety and depression. To not have to make a conscious effort to think positively and redirect the way I think naturally. To not be so intentional and so emotional and to feel so depleted at the end of each day. My counseling background drives me to support others and hold them up even when I can't hold myself up. While I will never stop being that kind of person - I am PROUD to be that way - it makes for one tired little woman in this apartment at the end of the day. Antidepressant-induced slumber is always welcomed at the end of each night, along with some good animal snuggles.

And yet, while I'd give anything to be a carefree spirit, I'm wondering how I will live my life without my old pals, depression and anxiety. As I start to feel better (thank you again to my therapist, some good literature and my pills for guiding me through that process) I feel a new kind of anxiety. Because I am so used to living with sadness, crying every morning (because it's so intense to face the day and all the unknowns)...it will be an adventure to live life again without constant fight-or-flight. Freud has a term for this feeling of fearing what will happen when the depression eventually lifts, but it's slipping my mind (thanking the pills yet again, his time for the lovely side effect of memory fogginess)...what if friends and family will care about me and be less interested in me once I appear to be "better"? What if their lives now include traditions and customs that I can't be a part of yet? Or what if they're used to me not being around?

Truth is, folks with anxiety and depression are never cured in my opinion. It's always a cross to bear, it just is heavier during certain seasons of life. So when it's a lighter cross, it doesn't consume you, but you learn how to cope effectively and healthily. But the outside world is still a little scary on this end. Making good progress though due to the aforementioned and to Him.

I heard the Smashing Pumpkins' rendition of this song today, "Landslide." Always loved this song, especially the Fleetwood Mac live version. But hearing it from a depressive's perspective was very real and emotional. For those that are experiencing even a smidge of what I am this year, this is for you.

And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills/Till the landslide brought me down
Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?/Can the child within my heart rise above?/Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?/Can I handle the seasons of my life?
Well, I've been afraid of changing 'Cause I've built my life around you/But time makes you bolder
Children get older/And I'm getting older too...

L

The year so far

It's funny how time can go so slowly and so fast at the same time. I know that sounds weird but the days go so slowly...and before I know it, it's July and 2014 is more than half over. Statistically speaking, my anxiety and panic has been chronic/disabling since November but culminated in a breakdown right before the year began, after the holidays. The last fun and stress free day ie remember is December 26. And the road has been full of twists and turns as I navigate the journey through my head and try to return to a stronger sense of self. 

I've gone from trying to find out WHY this happened to finally accepting that it HAPPENED and there is no one reason why. I hit a will emotionally. I hit my limit. I grew tired of doing things I didn't want to do and being places I didn't want to be when I saw so many people around me (many of them close to me) just doing their thing and living their life without apology. Over the past few years, I've gotten into a bad habit of living my life for other people, self-shaming anytime I created boundaries. and completely neglecting myself. Studies show women are more prone to being like this. But in any case, I still find myself doing it, as old habits tend to die hard.

One of the many beautiful things that came out of this event (of which I believe I am on the other side of, even on the worst days) was the care I received from individuals I didn't expect to receive support from. In spite of my agoraphobia, I "came out" regarding my illness on Facebook and through this blog. I utilized social media to reconnect with old high school, college and post-grad friends and acquaintances. Sometimes, just these folks' kindness and the encouragement helps. Others have shared their own stories of struggle and triumph and hearing those gives me hope that, when the time is right, I'll feel like my "old self." My best friend's husband very eloquently stated that my recovery will happen when it happens/how it's supposed to happen. It's that simple. And slowly, I am steering myself into thinking more positively. Which fatigues my mind and my body when dealing with such intense depression and illogical anxiety. But I'm keepin' on keepin' on. :)

The one thing I find disheartening is that I expected levels of support from sources that I assumed to be givens...no one particular person, just in general. Don't get me wrong. Everyone, including me, has their own life to live. I don't expect to be at the center of anyone's universe- I'm not even at the center of my own world. Anxiety and depression are lonely, misunderstood and invisible illnesses. And it's easy for others, when they're happy and life is good, to develop new routines and ways of life that no longer include Lauren. I can't place blame because I don't even know where I fit in my own life sometimes. I'm trying to figure out who I am, what I am comfortable with and what I like because for so long it was on the back burner as I worked to please friends, family members, bosses, you name it. I spent many years celebrating the life choices of others while receiving very little support as I went through some pretty heavy shit, pardon my French. Had I let people in more, it may have been different. It's just hard to feel so intensely for and love others and not have it reciprocated when you need it most. Sometimes we build up walls unintentionally and whoever breaks through and stays with you is worth having around, 

Some people that I least expected have demonstrated great compassion and understanding and I've been humbled by their prayers and inspired to be more spiritual myself. But I wish more people understood the life of someone who suffers from chronic anxiety. I want hugs and love more than ever now, but even taking a shower or getting through my work load can be painful on some days, so it's hard to be around others. But I'm trying. Please be patient, try to understand what I (and so many others) deal with and don't forget about me or give up on me. 

Time for a redirect

For anyone that is a Facebook friend of mine, you may have noticed over the last fw days that I am working to make a conscious effort to redirect my ways of thinking. I am wired naturally to be a realist at best and focus on the what-ifs. Those always lead to the play-out of worst-case scenarios in my head, and then the anxiety/depression/panic/you name it soon follows.

I have been making an effort to live in the present - rather than focus on what COULD happen IF, I try to think about what IS happening NOW. This has helped prevent me from going into full-blown panic mode on many occasions, but I am not perfect and give myself the grace to have bad, ugly, panicky days. Because I am human.

While that's all good and true, I also think that throwing too much of a pity party when I'm feeling bad is detrimental. I have been obsessing for months wondering WHAT caused my breakdown. WHY do I panic? WHERE am I most prone to panic? WHEN will this hell end? And I am slowly accepting that those thought processes are leading me nowhere except down the road of old painful experiences and over-thinking scenarios I've already grieved, processed and moved on from. It also causes me to feel anxious about things I used to look forward to (vacations, social outings, buying a house someday, etc,). Needless to say, something's gotta give.

So, I am trying to intentionally focus on the things I do like in my life rather than obsess about all of the bad stuff. I really don't want to live my life as a recluse and want to get better. Positive vibes and a sense of spirituality has to help me - it just has to. Medicine has worked wonders, but I need to do some of the work on my own.

My therapy going forward will focus less on the "talk therapy" and dredging up old hurts and will instead help me learn techniques for how to deal with the bad feelings. The feelings will always be there - but I can sowly learn how to control my reaction to those feelings.

That is the goal. More to come at a later date. For anyone else suffering through this too, I feel for you, I really do. I am truly sorry for anyone that has to feel like a prisoner in their own mind.

-L