Depression and Suicide

I grew up watching Mork & Mindy as a young child.  Popeye, Dead Poets Society, Awakenings, Hook, Mrs. Doubtfire, Good Will Hunting and one of my absolute favourites, Patch Adams are all movies I've watched over and over again.

Robin Williams was a genius on stage - his comedy was impeccable. He even inspired me to try stand-up. I would go through one YouTube video after another watching every show of his I could find so I could learn how to be funny and make people laugh.

He has spent his whole life making others smile and feel good...

Over the past 24 hours, I've been seeing countless news feeds explode about his passing. This is to be expected as he had a long, amazing career and was loved and followed by so many. He was extremely talented. It's truly heart wrenching to consider how much pain he was in to feel that taking his life was his only option. As a result, I've seen hundreds open up about their own depression or a loved ones. It's wonderful to see the stigma of mental illness start to fade and how many people are beginning to understand it.

On the flipside, I'm disturbed to still see how frequent certain words popped up - such as "selfish" and "coward". This made me realize how many people still don't understand mental illness/depression. To have such a lack of empathy for another human being who had been suffering for so long is otherwise unimaginable.  To someone who doesn't know any better, I could understand how suicide may appear as an act of selfishness. It would seem that they took their life without any regard for those they left behind. Not to mention, the anguish and pain they have inflicted on their loved ones. It may look like they decided to be a coward instead of coping with their illness. Unfortunately, it's not that simple. In the mind of someone who is trying to deal with their depression, ideas become distorted over time and their reality begins to disintegrate.

I've been there. I've been suicidal. I tried to have some sort of foresight of what my loved ones were going to feel after I was gone. Honestly, I felt that they would be relieved I was at peace and everyone could finally move on without me bringing them more frustration, heartbreak and worry.

Putting into words and describing the incredible amount of hopelessness one has when facing the choice of suicide is impossible. For me, I was so exhausted from the days, weeks, months and eventually years of trying to get better. One day you wake up and the pain just covers you like the most brutally, crippling blanket. It feels like pure Hell to just take another breath. It becomes an all-consuming nightmare. As a result, I ended up trying to take my own life on more than one occasion.

The feeling of waking up and realizing I wasn't dead was horrifying, painful and extremely humiliating. I was hooked up to heart monitors and IV's because I had vomited so much. I was forced to drink charcoal to keep the crap load of drugs I took from entering my blood stream. I've practically fallen off the hospital cot from the shaking. I've had upwards of 20 stitches up my arms and wrists from cutting them. I've been committed to the psych ward for months.

I tried to commit suicide because the pain hurt so much that I felt living another day would not only be torture for myself but for my family to watch me endure. Deep down, I didn't want to die - I just wanted the pain to stop. I wanted everything to stop hurting. I wanted the aliens to leave me alone. I wanted to go to sleep without feeling my soul was going to leave my body and be captured by Satan. I wanted a day without having to do 40 different ridiculous rituals. I wanted my hair to stop falling out from the medications along with 50 other side effects. I wanted to see a light at the end of that tunnel that everyone was telling me about. I waited. ...and waited. ...and waited. ...gradually, over time, with hard work, I came to see it.

While some days can still be challenging, I've at least broken out of the prison I was once in. I feel so much better and happier and I did it with a lot of professional help and family support. My recovery has been a very long road that extends over 20 years. Keep this in mind the next time someone confides in you that they are dealing with depression and you wished they'd just "snap out of it". Recovery doesn't happen overnight, but a suicide can. Depression is a very real, debilitating disease that takes lives. Suicide is not a cowardly action; it's when someone has succumbed to their illness due to wrong treatment and/or lack of support.

Sometimes, just having an open mind, lending an ear and being a good listener can go a long way, too.

I RAN TODAY!

Yes, it's true! I ran today - totally against Doctor and physiotherapist orders but I wanted to live life on the edge. ;-) Sure it was more of a slow jog ...and it was on a treadmill in an air conditioned gym, but HEY, I RAN. I'm so happy I could do backflips! ...Well, maybe not backflips... I could do an awkward fall to the side.

I set out to just walk... maybe about 15 minutes. (Since I had already done 45 minutes on the bike followed by an hour of weights). After 10 minutes, I was getting antsy. I turned the speed up along with my music and it became a truly joyous event. All started to feel right in the world.

Every 5 minutes I would say to myself, "Ok, maybe another 5 minutes".  45 minutes was my maximum. Then it was 44 minutes and Skrillex came on and no one turns Bangarang off mid-song! Then it was Lady Gaga... then some Maroon 5...

Then I ended up going for another 15 minutes!

One hour and 5 miles later... Woohoo!

I'm absolutely beside myself with glee! The runner's high has returned! 

....Ok, Ok, I'm not going to lie - I was in some pain, but I stretched the heck out of my back after. I also put on some Biofreeze and took a Robaxacet, and I'm feeling not too shabby, now. Whatever pain I was in as a result of today's run, was completely worth it! I'm so happy! Hopefully tomorrow I won't be paying for it and hopefully, I can go again very soon! :-) Yay!

Hope, Identity, Change, Failure, Success

Remember when you were a kid and you wanted to be a teacher or an astronaut or a ballet dancer or Batman or G.I. Joe... or... or... or... ?? Well, when I was 6, I wanted to be a breakdancer - but I couldn't do the "worm". So, I started watching video after video and studied Michael Jackson's choreography. Turns out, I could do the 'popping and locking' pretty well. Actually, I still can but when a nearly 40 year old white woman starts breaking into boogaloo, it makes everyone feel uncomfortable.

As time went on, I realized in order to be a professional dancer you sort of needed years of training and by about 10 years old, I was already too old. So I changed my dream to being an artist. That was short lived. I like drawing but after 400 people telling me I was going to be a "starving artist" for the rest of my life and that "I still needed a trade", to fall back on. I assumed that they felt my art must suck and by "trade" they meant I had to become a plumber or a mechanic... so I changed my mind. 

I played bass all through High School then went on to doing music for a few years in college. This was my passion. I wanted to be a Rockstar. I loved playing, being around other musicians, attending concerts, learning about the history - this was truly my calling in life. I can't stress that enough. CALLING. LIFE. Unfortunately, I never finished my diploma because at that point, I was already very ill.

For the next decade, I spent most of my time just trying to keep myself alive and learning to control my illness. Later, as I got more stable, I went on to taking classes at college/university in almost every subject you can think of: History, Political Science, Anthropology, Creative Writing, English, Psychology, Philosophy, Sociology, Mental Health, Marketing, Communications, Computers, Business, Horticulture, Art, Social Work and I'm pretty sure I'm missing a few but that's okay... you get the point. I have a lot of interests. I also did a lot of volunteer work. I liked helping others and giving back to the community, but it was also to help me find my "niche" in life. 

Even after becoming a parent, while greatly rewarding and wonderful, I've felt like there's been something missing. Something that I'm "supposed" to be doing. A feeling that I "should" be somewhere else. I've been in this sort of odd limbo for nearly 20 years. I've barely picked up my guitar during that time. It's actually really painful for me to do so for many reasons. I haven't just lost my technique and focus, but I lost that "hope" I used to have. That "dream big" feeling when I started playing in my teens. When I dropped out of music school, it all fell apart. That was my first major failure. I was crushed, humiliated and angry with myself. It felt like I had lost my identity. I've been asking myself, "What do I do now?" This has been a very long conversation. When I started running, while I wasn't that great at it, it gave me some of that "hope" back. After every race, I looked back and saw how much (and how well), I trained from it and felt a sense of accomplishment. It gave me hope that I was learning, improving and becoming a healthier person in the process. I found my new "niche". I found a new identity. I was a runner.

While in the midst of my mental health recovery years, I worked as a Peer Support Worker. I worked with those who may have been new to their mental illness and needed companionship or support. I learned a lot during that time about what people need in order to lead a healthy, happy life. Aside from the essentials of food, clothing and a roof over their head, everyone needs support. They need a cheerleader in their corner. They needed that "hope".  It could be from a family member, a friend or a professional (counsellor, social worker, doctor, nurse, co-worker/boss...  the water cooler guy, a probation offer, etc). Basically, anyone who is willing to give you a hi-five, listen to you once in a while and support you along the way.

I know essentially, that I want to help people and prior to becoming pregnant with my little one, I started to work towards my journey as a personal trainer. I never got BCRPA'd Personal Trainer status certified but I went through and passed all the courses. I was still new to health and fitness then, and was also overweight, on medications for my illness and very tired all the time. The courses gave me that introduction on how the body worked and the science behind getting fit.

After learning more about the different certifications I could choose from, I decided that maybe I should go through the National Strength and Conditioning Association and do their exam, as they seemed to be the most widely recognized. I ordered the text and quickly became overwhelmed. I had no idea where to even start.

Eventually, I figured that maybe the CanFitPro course would be better because it's quicker and cheaper. I got the books, but instead of doing the personal trainer course, I went ahead and completed their NWS (Nutritional Wellness Specialist) class and certification. 

Then I figured "Hey, maybe I should do ACE's course" and ordered the whole kitten caboodle - every training texts/supply they had. It's been over half a year later and I still haven't thought about writing the exam.

The reason why I haven't officially completed any of the courses is because I've talked myself out of it. The career of a personal trainer can be challenging. It's mostly early mornings and late evening work. It's not stable. Lots of sales and marketing are involved. I would have to keep renewing my insurance and CEU's. ...and while all of this is true, I finally realized that none of those things are the reason why I keep putting it off. I'm actually just scared to death of screwing up, again. I don't want to fail at something that I'm really passionate about and love. Even if I manage to pass the exam, I don't want to study my ass off and then no one wants to train with me. That would suck and isn't an idea that I'd want to commit to. 

So what do I do? I run away and go apply to a program that I don't feel passionate about at all. 

Yes, you read that right. I applied to the Diploma in Accounting program. I applied to it because if I suck and fail - I probably wouldn't care too much. It wasn't something that I was overly excited about to begin with. This is a career that I do not want to do...

 Change is scary and failure is horrifying... but it's also inevitable. Without change and failure, there's no experience or learning. It's just a boring straight line... and I don't want to live a boring straight line and then waking up one day and thinking to myself, "Oh crap. What have I done? Oh. That's right - I've done nothing except walking this safe, boring straight line."

I'm looking at my future next steps - whatever that may be (aside from recovering from this dreadful back injury). I just know I have to take A step. It doesn't matter what it is as long as it gets me one step closer to my passion: helping others, bringing hope and being a healthy/active person in the process. ...and even if I fail at times, that's okay, too. :-)

2 Months!

It's been about 2 months since I've been off of running. TWO MONTHS?! I'm getting antsy. So how have I been getting my cardio in? The most boring piece of machinery ever known to man (at least to me, anyway): the stationary bike. I spend about an hour on it and then I do weights. Again, I have to be careful not to have anything weight-bearing on my lower back. Swimming is another thing I've been doing a lot of this summer. This is not the norm for me as I swim like a brick and I'm not usually someone that hangs out at the pool. Last year I think I swam twice. This year has to be 2 dozen times, at least. It's really relaxing, though (especially the hot tub and the loungers. *wink*)

#loungerpoolselfie

Today I tried a yoga class. I hate yoga. In fact, I am very passionate about hating yoga. I've done some hot yoga (bikram) classes that I don't mind too much. I mean, I like it a bit more than cleaning the cat box. I'd probably like it a lot more if it wasn't 7000 degrees, but I hate every other kind. I have no patience. 

When I did this particular (Hatha) class, I wanted to burst into tears. I felt like this big awkward moose that couldn't do half the poses. I kept staring at the clock wishing that time would speed up and I could get the funk out of there. Apparently, yoga works for back pain, though. So I'm going to force myself to go back. I've tried almost everything and I'm running out of options. I'm (sort of) willing to look like a total dumbass in order to fix my back problem and get running again. 

So far, I've had 4 sessions of physio. She's gone on to using the laser on my spine. It's completely painless and I get to wear these super cool (sarcasm) glasses. I have no idea if it's working or not, yet.

She also tried to put me in this traction machine. As she was strapping me up, I was like, "What the fudge is this machine?" It was supposed to relieve pressure in my spine. 

She had me lay on my back and she put these wide blue belts across my waist. She placed a stool on the bed where my legs hung over. It was weird and awkward... even for me. Then she pulled out the bungee cord "thingy" (I hear that's the technical name for it) in the middle of the machine and tied it to the belt. Slowly the bungee cord would pull and I felt my back being pulled apart. It wasn't painful. It just felt super strange. The physiotherapist placed this red button thing in my hand and told me to press it if I got any pain and then she left the room.

As the cord pulled, my anxiety went up. ...and up. ...and up. Until I couldn't take it anymore. I hit the red button. The thing started beeping uncontrollably. The physiotherapist came back in the room and went immediately to the machine. She then looked at me and said, "What happened?!"  ...."I pressed the button." I replied sheepishly. I felt like a wimp and was embarrassed. I was also very uncomfortable and there's been far too many times in the past where I didn't follow my instincts and then suffered for it later.  ...However, I also know that playing it safe doesn't usually get me anywhere. I realize my fear was a little ridiculous so I may try again in a future session. Read: I went home and went onto the Internet and researched everything I could about this machine and found out it's pretty harmless and the odds of getting hurt is basically nil.

I'm doing epsom salt baths. I'm also taking glucosamine and omega 3 fish oils. I've been applying menthol analgesic gel, daily. I've been getting the physiotherapist to tape my back after every session. I'm doing everything that I'm supposed to be doing. (I have, however, laid off on the pain killers.) I just want to run again - pain free! My next step will most likely be needing an MRI but unfortunately, I will be sitting on a year long wait-list.

I've decided to take a week off of physio and work on all the exercises she gave me and continue with the yoga classes. As I mentioned in the previous post, I was going to list some exercises that the physiotherapist recommended to me. Here are a few:

Exercise Ball Wall Squat

Pelvic Tilt (Lying down)

Cat Stretch

Kneeling Alternate Leg/Arm Reach

Hamstring Stretch

Knee to Chin Stretch

Medicine Ball Squat (I use 8 pounds)