Dear Menopause,

In my last post I was talking about menopause; how brutally fast it hit me and how I felt I was rubbed from my youth.

It took me two good days of crying to calm down. My flight instinct is usually the first to kick in, and you guessed it right: I couldn’t escape from my ovaries…

So there I was, equipped with an acquired skill of acceptance and with lots of support and encouragement from my family, I had no choice but to start using my good old brain.

I looked at my soon to be 43 years of life and thought about them hard. My childhood wasn’t the happiest time of my life. My early teens were definitely unhappy years. By 16 I had lost my mother and was deeply depressed. I had a few good years from 18 to 24 then bam hormones kicked in and I was not 100 percent. With lots of good will I managed to get through to 29 and then I got pregnant.

Now I know I had postpartum depression, but at the time I didn’t. Motherhood was beautiful, would never have wanted anything else, but I was tired. A few good years from 33 to 36, and then the apocalypse.

Up till my forties I was silently surviving bipolar and I also didn’t know it. My second birth gave me a bigger postpartum depression that was accompanied by a period of change. If you are a regular visitor, you know the rest. If not here is the summary.

I got prescribed antidepressants and soon discovered they made me manic. A couple of years went by – hellish, painful, and dark. From one psychiatrist to the other, from one hospital to the other I went without any hope to feel better.

I suffered so much and so did my family and friends. The only exciting topic in my mind would be imaging my death- the end of suffering.

Finally a cure was in the horizon. I started a new treatment and after this long journey now I am as stable as I can be. I tapered down my old medication and got started on high dose levothyroxine along with Rtms.

Back to the subject at hand.

I feel so lucky and blessed to have had our children in my early 30’s. If I had started therapy with levothyroxine early on in my life, I doubt I would have been able to get pregnant or keep my pregnancy.

I don’t have enough research to back up what I am saying here. But I am quite certain that all hormones are connected, though how exactly I don’t know. For sure my treatment is a life saver. I would have been dead without it.

Yet, there is a price for everything- again this is not backed up by research and it is just a gut feeling. I probably had my perimenopause in my late 30’s and again this too went unnoticed.

Thyroxine protected me – thank you Lord- from the mood swings and depression of this tough period. When I started to have severe migraines and eyesight problems as well as muscle issues I gave it little importance. Then my period stopped and the sonogram said I had a poor egg count. My lab tests put me at post-menopause although am only 42!

I am also happy and fulfilled. I just want to preserve this state as long as I can because now my problem has shifted: I LOVE LIFE!

I might have early aging that I cannot prove to be related to my current therapy, but I AM ALIVE! Doctors do not see a clear link between levothyroxine and early aging. Not sure if it is because no one researched it before, or because they didn’t connect the dots.

I am working hard to preserve my body and mind to be able to live to the fullest. I am not afraid of death – not at all – I just want to live well.

I currently take 5 mg MELATONIN at night to lower my FSH and LH hormones – culprits of many old age diseases – thanks to my dear husband’s brilliant research and mind.

Along with probiotics and multivitamins I take INSTINOL to aid me in this murky period of change. I walk my daily 10 thousand steps and workout 3 times a week.

I eat as clean and lean as I can, wake up early, work hard, and play harder.

Enough with self pity and victimization. I don’t have time. Life is full of joy and has marvelous ways of turning what we first think as negative to be the best thing that ever happened to us. Example: me and my bipolar.

So dear menopause,

Thank you for knocking on my door. Just know dear, although you are welcome, I am not pausing anything now or ever.

I hope my warrior friends are equally fighting with zeal, loving themselves and their graying hairs. Nothing will stop us from being who we are, from being complete and fulfilled.

Let’s keep on shining.

#happily_depressed

On navigating difficult moments…

As it is its habit, life puts in our way unexpected events . Little and not so little challenges that we inevitably have to face…

I have always dreaded facing such a situation; one of fear of the unknown, fear of change, fear of loss.

Nothing makes us grow as much as being out to the test. I was faced with one of these frightening situations recently, and yes my first reaction was definitely more negative than anything. I started to see all what could go wrong, with one horrifying scenario unfolding in my mind after the other.

Fast forward, and I reached the darkest thought that I could ever imagine with all its gruesome details. I was lucky at that particular moment that I noticed how my mind affected my body. My heart was racing, I was crying uncontrollably, I couldn’t breathe properly. I had lost all control.

Luckily, I decided that I needed to calm down. I had to find solutions, to think rationally and I was literally paralyzing myself with all the dread I was feeling.

I decided to try and change how I think and stop myself from breaking into a thousand pieces just because of a possibility. I was not certain of any outcome that was to unfold. So why be in this state now?

I tried to tackle my anxiousness by realizing that there is so much I can do to change events. Yet, I was still in control of my reactions.

I stopped plotting the cascade of catastrophic scenarios. Instead, I started to visualize how life has its ways of sending us gifts that initially look and feel terrifying.

Instead of focusing on all what could go wrong, I asked myself to shift my thoughts to what could actually go right.

Soon, I discovered that I was indeed feeling better. I gained control over my racing thoughts and heartbeats. Once I made this realization, I was surprised that I was no longer making a conscious effort to think this way. It just happened. I shed a few tears of relief and then took a deep breath.

I surrendered to the million possibilities, believing that good things do indeed happen. Adjusting to the present moment made me hopeful and stronger. Isn’t it true that there is no point of living in any past or future?

Now is all what I have, and will always have. This very second as I am writing these words is all there is, was or will ever be. This very moment is hopeful, positive and I relie on this very belief that I will make it to this next moment where nothing else will exist except me being grounded and believing that ultimately I can make a conscious choice to stay in control.

In this very existence, there isn’t any place for fear. Every single moment of my life prepares me for the next. Yes, bad things do happen and sometimes they happen to good people too. This I cannot prevent. Realizing that control is inside me is a game changer.

Let us live to the fullest every moment and embrace our existence. May we always find the power to be hopeful and believe in miracles. For as long as we have this belief, we will find solace in the present moment.

#happilydepressed

On waiting for remission…

Waiting sucks

Waiting sucks. Whether waiting for a bus; your turn in a public restroom; your birthday present; your dessert in a restaurant; or even waiting for yourself to finally fall sleep. Waiting sucks when you did well, when you didn’t do well, or when you didn’t do anything at all.

Waiting is seen essentially as a waste of time. It is the place between two radically different states. Waiting is ambiguous, monotone, and yet interesting,..

The interesting stuff lies between where you were before needing to wait and where you will be after waiting is over. It is like a twilight zone, where we discover things we didn’t know before…

How can waiting be active ?

If waiting were passive, life would be so dull. We wait all life long for things to happen: some of them we want and some we are very keen to avoid. We learn to wait as soon as we are born. We wait to be fed, cleaned and cuddled. We even wait to die…

Waiting changes as we grow. We discover sooner or later that our needs and wants are not instantly met by the world.

Frustration builds up as we face negative experiences where waiting was not just long, but led to an undesirable outcome. We resort to prayer, to superstition, to therapy and sometimes we end up in depression; waiting.

Waiting and expectation go hand in hand. The higher the stakes, the higher is the expectation associated with waiting. Waiting for a bus is unlike waiting for remission. The first is bound to happen (the bus will eventually come no matter how late). Yet, some other waiting is tricky. What happens when you wait for remission? For better health? For a better future? For a full life?

What to do while waiting other than waiting? What can be done before waiting to make waiting more bearable? What can be done to make waiting matter, so that it makes sense?

How can we wait for remission?

I have learned so far that waiting for remission boils down to two main factors. The first, is wanting to get better. (For the sake of simplifying things, we will assume that we actually and truly want to get better). Interestingly, the second factor is accepting not getting better.

It was so confusing to me. The more I wanted to get better, the more frustrated I became. After being frustrated waiting, I gave up hope, which definitely didn’t make waiting any easier or quicker.

Waiting is a skill that sooner or later we better learn to master, especially if we are waiting for something of such great value such as remission.

We could complain or wait in silence, while we are shattered internally with each second bringing us closer to the end of a bottomless void. We can swim in the darkness and sink deeper as the pain never lessens. This would not mean that we are accepting this reality, but rather that we give up. We give up hope, we can’t see any other possible scenario. This is it. And if this is the case, remission will never happen.

Yet, if we surrender, maybe things could change. We surrender to and accept the pain, the guilt, the remorse, the shame, the pity, the ugliness of it all. We accept the status quo while knowing that nothing stays the same forever. We need to know this in on our bones. Like seriously know that nothing ever stays the same forever. It is not over, until it is over. Repeat it, feel it, believe it, know it.

We should never give up hoping to get better. I always say, if I feel better for a minute now, next time I will feel better for two minutes, then three, then an hour and so on. Yes I will get worse, but then I will get better again. Hope cannot be taken out of a person unless they decide to give up. One single minute lived without pain, means more minutes will come. Just wait.

Bottom line

Wait actively. Listen to your soul and body. Don’t undermine your thoughts. You are still creative even if life is putting you down. You still have a mind, even if you are drugged down by the doctors. You know what it is that is really wrong with you. Better still, you surely know what is really good with you. Yes, there is plenty. You are just looking the other way.

Wait while searching. Dig deep, and take it step by step. Work on everything you know how to solve, and leave the rest to time. Work it like a puzzle. Your life is a giant Lego. Do the easy parts first. No one will fix you. You need to fix yourself. There is no perfect scenario. Life is not black or white. Accept being in the grey zone.

Make your bed, shower and eat real food. You can do that. Do your laundry and get a hair cut. Get back to this thing you used to like before. Was it writing , painting, composing, gardening? Pick up something you never had the chance to do before, but always wanted to learn or do. Make waiting count.

Don’t be the same person once waiting is over. You would have lost double the time. Either way you have nothing to lose.

The goal is to rediscover yourself beyond your illness. There is an “I” behind the illness. You are not the illness. Who is it who is waiting for remission? What will s/he do if they were not sick this very second? What would have happened if they hadn’t fallen sick? What is this bloody and agonising state trying to tell me?

Don’t wait for an answer. You already know it.

Think. Cry. Fall. Shout. Rise. Create. Pray. Write. Paint. Run. Sing. Build. Forgive. Love. HEAL

Make every second waiting count.

Forgiveness and recovery

The blog has shifted gears. My writings were sometimes exercises of introspection – reflecting my state of mind during my struggle with depression, anxiety, and bipolar disorder. Other times, I would write about what I thought was wrong with the medical system as it stands today; not seeing the person as a whole or just silencing and over drugging the mentally ill till they slowly lose themselves in an array of side effects and endless adjustments of dosages. I also wrote about misdiagnosis and malpractice, and how our lives could change just by being given one very wrong label or another.

In my last few posts I started sharing with you the lessons taken home. There is no pretentiousness or ‘I know better’ in my words. I try to repeat this one way or another because it is so important!

So here goes…

Today I want to talk to you about a pivotal moment in my recovery.

You know getting better is not linear. If anyone tells you so, then they either don’t know what they are talking about, or they are simply really very optimistic, or just they were super lucky and are the 0.01%.

Recovery has so many elements. Naive, I used to think about it like a finish line. It was actually more of a destination, and to get there you have to take a bumpy ride.

To recover, I of course needed be on the right medication. I was supposed to find stability. Yes little by little I didn’t have anymore mood swings. A small relapse here, a little adjustment there…

I relate to this as trivial compared to what I went through. I didn’t feel depressed or have this huge void eating me up; true. Yet, I felt surprisingly guilty. Probably not surprisingly.

I was not able to feel relief. Why aren’t you happy now? Good question! I was faced with two major problems.

One: the aftermath of what ‘I have done’ to my family witnessing all this suffering. Two: the immense fear of this ordeal happening again. Three: I know I said two but I also had memory issues, self-confidence issues, brain fog, and 20 plus kilograms to lose to fit in my old socks because of all the meds I was taking before finding the right treatment, tapper off a few others, and of course I had to reintegrate into society.

After spending time feeling stagnant in these negative thoughts, I talked to my psychiatrist who suggested that these signs are very well similar to those of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). In brief: the experience of illness is so intense that in itself it becomes traumatic and creates guilt, fear and flashbacks. Are you familiar?

He suggested I undergo a few sessions of EMDR – Eye Movement Desensitisation and Reprocessing therapy. It is non invasive, simple and fast method of psychotherapy. I was skeptical at first but I tried and It worked really well on my trauma. Highly recommend it if you find a qualified therapist.

Relief was not immediate. But at the time I decided that I needed to open a new chapter in my life if I am to recover. Again this does not happen over night. It is a process. You plant the seed.

How can I ask those around me to forget what happened if I am constantly thinking about it? How can I be ‘normal’ if I am living every moment waiting for another attack? How can I expect to be ‘forgiven’ if I cannot forgive myself?

Forgiveness was the magic word. And trust me it is everything but cliché. 

I had no choice. I internalized this and repeated it to myself for the millionth time. Mental illness could happen to anyone at anytime. Mental illness is not a choice. Mental illness teaches you how to be human and humane. This experience showed us all how we are connected and how we love one another and how blessed I am to have my family and loved ones. They also used to tell me the same, but you know guilt…

Before all this, I had to forgive myself for the pain I went through. I decided that I will allow myself the suffering that passed and say it is ok. I don’t judge you. You were hurting and you are fine now. Again, you water the seed.

I gave myself a pat on the back and a big hug for the long road travelled and I said it is ok. I looked at all the things I have learned. How strong I have become. How loved and cared for I was and how things could have turned much much worse.

I looked at my family hoping day in day out that what dwells inside my soul will reflect into my behavior. Little by little, things began to change, and a new normal appeared.

The seed grows into a plant.

My dear reader I decided to be kind to myself because I had suffered enough and I invite you to do the same even if you are not in recovery, or even if you are not mentally ill. We have all suffered one way or another. We deserve to live guilt-free.

Allow yourself the gains you have achieved though little they may seem; for today is a good day and we only hope we replenish the well a little more tomorrow.