Article from a blogger about holidays

Here is a great article on the holidays and the way some of us feel.  (you will probably have to cut and paste the link)

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/robin-obryant/the-weight-of-great-expectations-holidays_b_4392709.html

Cartoon on Depression

This is a great little cartoon to explain depression and how it feels.  Take a few minutes to watch.  (You have to copy and paste link though).


http://www.upworthy.com/what-is-depression-let-this-animation-with-a-dog-shed-light-on-it

Put A Tiara On...

I have been having a lot of good days lately. Here and there I have some small challenges, but it is a wonderful feeling to have happy moods and calm in my life. Those days where I feel like it may be a struggle to get through or even days I feel well, I realized putting on something that makes me feel pretty and look nice is a great way to cheer myself up. Yes, meditation, medicines, vitamin D, endorphins all help too, but let me be a little materialistic here.
A few years ago I rediscovered my love of dresses. I loved them when I worked. When I stopped working I adapted to one of the "Mom Outfits" - the sweatpants/t-shirt/sneakers one.  I wore this almost all of the time and forgot that other comfortable clothes existed too.  After I lost a bit of weight and had to buy new clothes, I discovered dresses and cute shoes again.  I looked around and saw other mom-types wearing these clothes and realized I can too!
The next thing I discovered was how I felt when I put these dresses, skirts and other new clothing choices on -- I felt good, sometimes even great.  Soon, I started wearing a little lip gloss and started paying attention when I dried my hair.  YES - I got it. When you look good, you feel good and vice versa.  I set up a few experiments.  If I felt down and dressed myself up, it lifted my mood.  When I felt good I put on a nice skirt and then smiled a bit more that day.
I found a little tiara one day while shopping.  I remembered I heard someone somewhere say every woman should have a tiara to wear because every woman is a princess, or something like that.  Well, I will take it a step further.  I bought the tiara because I am not a princess, I am a QUEEN.  When I forget this I look at that little tiara and think " I am a Queen!"  no matter what I am wearing that day.  It lifts my spirits when I put that little sparkly thing on.  
So friends, next time you are having some bad days, throw on a cute outfit and put some lip gloss and mascara on.  If you need a bit more to lift yourself up,  then put on that tiara!

My Irish Temper...

Well, the other night my Irish temper got the best of me.  I wanted to give up on this blog.  I posted a writing I spent a week working on and it had a typo - something I make but don't always catch.  I hate typos.  I hate them so much I get pissed off for making them.  I posted the writing on the blog and realized there was a typo too late.  I tried to fix it and re-post, but it was deleted somehow. Goodbye to a week's worth of writing.

I had a few days this week that were a bit trying.  I guess it all came out when this happened.  Did you ever have a time you got angry at something, but that particular something wasn't what you were really angry with?  Last week it was laundry, this week it was the blog.

I shut the blog down, took everything I could off-line and cried.  I cried a lot.  I was so tired from my mistake and the week, I slept the longest I have in months.

I spent some time in the sun and got my walk and workout in.  I thought and daydreamed as some leaves fell on me.  I realized how much it helps me to write and how my writing has received positive comments from those who read this blog.  I decided to open it all back up.  I thought of three other topics I want to write about as I sat outside peacefully with nature.

I hope you continue to read and I hopefully will continue to write.

Embracing My Curves...

When I was 12 years old, I was a size 12 in Girls. By the time I was 14, I grew hips and other things and became a size 7 in Women's. That - at age 14 - is the skinniest I've ever been and is the smallest size I have ever worn.
When I did wear a size 7, my hips rubbed against the sides of the pants because they were so bony and wide.  (True story: My mom once said while looking at an X-ray of my hips that I have" big birthin' hips".  I was only 17.  So I've always been curvy).
Along with my hips came some "breasteses" as I call them. I was a B cup before I knew I even had them!  I remember a few girls in high school asking me to "share" in my gift of a bigger chest. As I got older I continued to grow in all places. I am slightly above average in height. However, since I was in college my weight has been up and down. My curves came back to haunt me. Now I had too many and some in the wrong places. I always exercised and dieted.  I remember doing one of the original Slim Fast powdered shakes about 20+ years ago. It was disgusting. They have come a long way though!
In college it seemed like every young woman I knew had a weight struggle.  No matter how healthy and well we looked, all of us wanted perfection. My friends and I looked at Victoria's Secret models and others in different magazines and on House of Style on MTV (remember that?).  Even though we knew they were anorexic looking and/or somehow genetically gifted to have those bodies, deep down we wanted them too. Well, I personally, never achieved what they represented.
I'm curvy like Marilyn Monroe, Sophia Loren, Kate Winslet, Beyonce, Christina Hendricks, even Sophia Vergara.  I'm sure you could name more too.  All these women are sex symbols. While Victoria's Secret models still look too skinny they are not as anorexic and sick looking as they used to be, at least some aren't.  I recently read an article on Plus Sized Models and how proud they are to be their size.  (Very comforting to a girl like me).  Some of them were models that starved themselves into an eating disorder.  They are now comfortable with their bodies and would never go back to being a size 0. Why do they even make this size?? Zero is NOTHING???
  Why am I writing this post? Well, I am only now, at the age of 40 learning to and maybe, just maybe, accepting my curves. Don't get me wrong I'd love to be a size 7 again, but that was my body when I was 14. When I was very sick years ago, I got to a size 8. I was 23 and very sick though.  I look back at the pictures from my 20's and wish I was that size again. I was in decent shape but no matter how many sit-ups I did or what weird diet I tried, I was never happy with my body. At the time I thought I was fat. Why? Why would I think size 8 or 10 is fat? I did and so did Society (movies, TV magazines, etc). They place skinny models and actresses that have personal trainers and live-in cooks on a pedestal. If I had that, I'd be a small size too.
Now, I look at it and I know I need to improve in some places, but I am beginning to realize this is who I am. I will not be a Victoria's Secret model who can snag Adam Levine, I won't ever be a petite size, I will never be able to buy a cheap bra because cheap bras don't come in size DD and E.  I am just me - curvy - and society and anyone who disagrees need to check themselves!

Team - Partners

If you notice the subtitle of my blog you will see I say "My Partner's Parkinson's".  He and I have been married for 12 years - 12 years this Sunday.  We've been together for 14 years and were friends before that for a year or so.  As we all know, marriage, as well as other long-term relationship, have their ups and downs.  I like to call marriage a roller coaster.  We've been on that ride, especially the past couple years. It's mainly due to dealing with my depressive episodes, my husband not understanding it and other things that are not in our control.
My husband is a great guy and is also a sports aficionado.  He is a team player in our family, the coach, a manager.  I see myself as the co-coach/ manager.  Sometimes one or both of us can't coach the team.  Sometimes we are on the DL for a while.  When this happens, the team cannot play right.  There are just the 3 of us in our little family but as my husband/partner says sometimes our moods not only affect our son, but other family members, and even our pets.  He would like everyone to be a team player because the team does not work with out the help of everyone. He will say to me, "This family does not work without you!" when I get depressed and upset.   It doesn't work without him either.  Since his diagnosis, he has taken the disease on.  He is in great shape, strong and believes exercise is one of the most important things to battle Parkinson's.  Exercise is also very important to battle depression & bi-polarism and other diseases, like arthritis and diabetes.
We are partners in these battles.  That is the way we see it.  Somedays it takes its toll on one or both of us.  We have termed us "Shaky" and "Shakier".  I shake because of a familial tremor and then it's heightened by the medicines I take. Then of course, there is my husband... Oh, names of endearment...  We are partners in this fight and will continue to be for a long time.

That's The Diagnosis? Really?

I see a doctor, a psychiatrist, every few months.  She diagnosed me with severe depression early on in my visits.  Now, she adjusts my meds based on my feelings, mood, energy, sleeping habits and what is going on in my life.  I've been doing this for four years now.
How though?  Psychiatrists diagnose you and give you prescriptions. They ask you A LOT questions abut family, home life, life history, health history, etc.  Sometimes they ask you to fill out worksheets with a quiz or a mood scale on it.  This is how they make a diagnosis. There is no blood test.  There are no X-rays.  No head scans, at least for most patients.  Because the diagnoses for these diseases are based mostly on the patient's feelings, how does one know if the diagnosis is true?  I noticed how the doctor "rules out" other mental illnesses by asking symptoms, recent or past mood swings, or any actions or thoughts out of the ordinary.  There are no PHYSICAL tests for a mental illness.  Just a ruling out and ruling in based on symptoms.  It almost seems just a little unscientific being there is no physical test for it.  But, it is a diagnosed and real disease that some people still don't believe in. Because one's head is being diagnosed does not mean the illness is all in one's mind.

My husband told me he was having tremors in his right hand and some in his right leg.  He made a doctor's appointment because of it.  His primary doctor sent him for an MRI based in his symptoms.  He was informed the MRI was clear - no tumors, no abnormalities.  We both breathed a sigh of relief.  However, his doctor wanted him to follow up with a neurologist because the symptoms were ongoing and it was not clear why the tremors were happening.  My husband also had pain in his right shoulder and he has never had a good sense of smell.  Off to the neurologist we went.
The exam went well, at least that is what I thought until the end.  I sat in on his visit and all the muscle exercises he made him do seemed to be fine.  Then, he asked him to walk down the hall.  He noticed my husbands right arm was not swinging when he walked.  This is a sign of Parkinson's.  Five minutes later we heard his diagnosis, Parkinson's.  We were both shocked.  I immediately protested and said, "But the MRI was clear!!" The doctor then informed us that Parkinson's can't be detected from an MRI, a blood test, and X-ray or anything except for a muscle test and ruling everything else out.  It's a chemical imbalance in the brain.  I never knew this before.  I just thought you could detect it through brain scans and/or blood tests.  Well, needless to say we were stunned for quite a while after that.  It was not what we hoped.  As I learned quickly, Parkinson's is also diagnosed in an almost unscientific way.

So here we were, my husband and I diagnosed over a few years with chemical imbalances in our brains that can't be diagnosed the way most people think a disease needs to be proved to be "real".  Who would have thought?  But the difference between our diagnoses is that one is a familiar disease a major celebrity and many others have had for years.  People know it is a serious disease.  Well, the other is a disease celebrities and many others have had for years but don't like to talk about, but it is a serious disease and it still carries a stigma.

When I started this blog I was recovering from a deep depressive episode.  I wanted to let the world, well, at least a little part of the world know many kinds of people suffer from depression.  My other reason was to let others know the symptoms, the hopelessness it makes one feel and the sadness that is so difficult to escape.
I believe that I have accomplished these goals personally.  You can read my entries and know how I feel as others do feel about this awful disease. Severe Depression is recurring for me.  It doesn't go away no matter what medications I am on, but the meds do allow me to function.
In the year and a half since I started this so many things have happened.  Many more sad than happy.  I cannot go into to too many details because they are private, personal and I just don't feel like discussing it on a public forum like this.
However, the one thing I want to discuss on my blog is being the partner of a someone who has been diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease.   My husband is 46 and one of the sad things that happened last year is at the age of 45, he was told he had Parkinson's.  I would like to share in this forum how he was diagnosed, the symptoms to look out for and how he is fighting this battle head on.  I also want to talk about how little information there seems to be for younger people with this diagnosis.  And, there is even less info for the partners or "caregivers" as we are called.  I have to say though, the best information comes through Michael J. Fox's website and emails.  He is really the face of Parkinson's and being a young man when he was told he had it helps younger people stay informed.
I have changed the name of the blog because, as you will read, my husband and I have something in common - our brain's are a little "off".  The chemicals in our heads do not function properly.  I would like to inform you of what is happening with us both as we fight our diseases together.

Thanks, if you continue to read this blog.    

Ode To My Grays...

As I got closer to 40, you started appearing.
First, just here and there.
I easily plucked you from my head, defying the old wives's tale that I would get seven more grays for every one I pulled. Ha!
Sometimes you are very noticeable.  Sometimes you appear in a small cluster.  I really hate the kinky ones you seem to sprout up every now and then.

I'm not a vain woman, but vanity exists in me somewhere.
I choose to fight you.  Keep you down.  Hide you.
Yes. I color you. HaHa!
I'm not ashamed by you, but I remember my Nana saying she would color her own hair until she was old.  She stopped when she was 70 claiming she was an "old lady" by then (hardly).

You look good on some women.  They can show you off and look attractive, even glamorous.
You always look distinguished on gentlemen.
But, I will not let you take over my head just yet.
Thank God for my hairdresser.  Now, you are lovely shades of copper that match my natural highlights.
And, like Nana, I'll likely hide you until I feel like an old lady too!

Burden

A burden.  That is how I feel when I get really depressed.  My husband gets frustrated with me as do my parents.  My sister and sister in-law have their own problems to deal with I hate to bother them with my own.  My brother, who I only get to talk to every once in a while, understands more because he deals with depression too.  I can vent to him but sometimes I don't want to burden him either.  My good friends also have their own lives and those challenges that go with it to deal with.  I hate bothering people.  I guess that is why I would be a terrible president?!

When you feel like you are a burden to those that you love, those that you count on for support in your "regular" life, it is 100 times more difficult to tell them you are down and depressed and in a dark place.

 I want to run away.  That is my thing.  I want to run.  I want to go far away because maybe that will solve my problems.  I have tried.  More than once.  It doesn't work as far as I know.  So most of the time I am depressed, I stay in bed. I sleep.  I get so tired and lack any energy when I get depressed.  My only savior is my son.  I get out of bed for him.  Even when I am tired and sleepy and in a dark place, my son will come in with some news to tell me.  Still, as much as I KNOW he loves me and as much as I love and adore him, I start to think, maybe I am a burden to him too?  Maybe he's be better off without me. Something though in the darkest of times has held me back from running away--it is him.  My only baby, my only son.  He keeps me here and gives me the will to go on to the next day.  He makes me laugh and God love our children--they really do love us unconditionally!

I don't completely understand my depression.  I am still trying.  I don't understand why I get the way I do.  I get scared.  I get angry. I get misunderstood.  I get panicky.  I get shamed.  I get embarrassed.  Most of all, I just get sad.  I lose sight of the present and the future.  I stay in the mind of the past and the lost.  I am trying SO HARD to overcome it all.  I want my 40's to be better-- to get a hold of it all to conquer all the bad stuff and live happily.  I hope I can.

WRONG!

I do not like getting yelled at.  Getting yelled at means someone probably thinks I am wrong or did something wrong.  Sometimes I think I do everything wrong.  Seriously.  EVERYTHING!  Depression will make you think that.  It will make you think--THINK--you do EVERYTHING WRONG!

Sometimes when you have depression and have had it for a long time and struggle to deal with daily situations, people around you blame you.  They yell at you.  They think this will help "snap" you out of your depressed state.  Guess what?  It doesn't help.  It only hurts.  Please, if you know someone who is depressed, don't yell at them no matter how frustrated you get at them.  It only hurts more.  Hold them. Love them.  Tell them everything will be ok.  Tell them to fight.  Remind them of good times.  Remind them of things to come.  Just hug them.  It helps more than getting mad, frustrated or raising your voice.  

Floating along...

So, imagine you are floating on water--in a pool, in a river, lake, ocean--doesn't matter.  Then, you begin to get tired and start treading in the water.  You're treading and slowly waving your arms and legs.  You're smiling but you are tired and start to lose energy.  Suddenly, without warning, you start to go under.  You struggle to keep treading the water.  You are losing the fight. You struggle to breathe.  You fight, but the water is too much.  You start to swallow the water, you can't breathe anymore and lose your strength.  You go under water.  No matter how hard you fight you can't get to the surface again. No lifeguards are in sight.  No one you know is in sight to help you.  They are all swimming or floating or having a picnic on the beach or just laying there on the sand.  Now imagine that you don't want anyone to help you.  You are on your own.  That is all you can think.  No one can help you because you are in too deep.

Depression is the water.

Let's try this again...

It has been 6 months since I last wrote.  Some people do not like how I share my feelings and thoughts here on my blog. Some think it's too sad to read and then worry about me.  This has stunted me.  It made me not want to write again at all.

Writing for me is like a therapy though.  It helps me.  I have depression. Depression is an illness.  It took me years to deal with that.  It is ok though and that is why I started this blog.  I am going to try to start writing again.  Maybe that will help me because I am in a deep funk.  I am in deep and I want to get out of it.