Exemplifying the Word "Resilient"

By definition, the word "resilient" refers to a person who is able to withstand or recover quickly from difficult conditions.  After being bent, stretched or broken, the person is able to spring back, rebound and readily recover.  To me, there are two people in my life who exemplify this word, and they are my husband and my daughter.


My partner for life, my best friend, my husband, he shows grace through his actions.  He embraces strength as he guides our family through some of the hardest seasons of our lives.  My husband has been a part of my life since I was initially diagnosed with Major Depression, and he married me just months before my diagnosis changed to Bipolar Disorder.  Without complaint, he takes time off work to drive me two hours every few months to see my surgeon.  And throughout my various illness battles, he never has animosity towards the situation.  Instead, he handles it with precise direction towards helping me remain healthy.  

When I think about my husband, I recall various situations where he exhibited resilience.  For example, while I was resting during COVID quarantine, he spent over 4 hours rearranging our bedroom.  He did this because he wanted me to have a new start as I healed and recovered from this experience.  As my partner, he keeps his stresses and worries to himself in order to protect me from the emotional battles he withstands.  Amongst the chaos, he makes it a point to have hobbies that give him a break so that he can recharge and rejuvenate his emotional self.  

Secondly, my daughter is also resilient in many ways.  She has grown up with a Mommy who is sick, and has learned about my health issues at a very young age.  Throughout this process, my daughter struggles with feelings of anger, sadness and worry.  Even though she is scared that something bad could happen to me, she does not allow herself to live within the confines of those feelings.  Instead, she bounces back from negativity and asks poignant questions about my health.  This helps her learn more about my illnesses and provides her a safe space to feel positive emotions related to my healing and recovery.  

Unfortunately, my daughter has found me under a blanket in tears, she was witness to our cat dying of cancer, and she missed her winter concert because we had to call the paramedics for me.  However, she perseveres through all of the challenges that life has thrown her direction.  She is able to look to her own future without fear of meeting my needs in the present moment.  My daughter goes to school and sporting activities with a huge smile on her face, excelling as a brave and intelligent child.   

When I reflect on how much I have overcome, I think back on how much my husband and daughter have believed in me and supported me.  I am blessed by their presence in my life and love how we journey through life together.  I lean into how far the 3 of us have come and I look forward to how much life we still have yet to live.  And I proudly wear high heels not only for myself but for my husband and daughter who love and support me day in and day out.  

Love Note: With all my heart, I genuinely request that due to the content written, please seek the guidance of professional help should you feel you need it.

Be A Stiletto In A Room Full of Flats

Have you ever heard of the saying, "you opened a can of worms"?  Well I suppose I did that with my last post about hospitalizations.  I alluded to the fact that I have been inpatient at a psychiatric ward three times.  I also explained that I have gone to the Emergency Department ("ED") two other times.  Yet in my blog, I only discussed my first hospital stay and I have, since that time, been asked to explain my other experiences.


As you are all now aware, my first experience at a psychiatric ward was in college.  However, the second incident took place after suicidal thoughts consumed my mind and my partner took me to the ED.  This particular ED staff made sure I felt safe at home and provided me with resources for a psychiatrist and a psychotherapist.  That afternoon my partner made phone calls and the next day I saw two new doctors who gave me hope for the future.


Four years and ten months later, I had a new job and there was a "zen room" at the office.  For two days, I went to that room and slept on a reclining chair.  By day three, my co-workers went looking for me and found me asleep in the zen room.  I subsequently spent the next week in the hospital with new doctors who changed my medications.  This was precisely when my diagnosis was updated from Major Depression to Bipolar Disorder.  

My third hospitalization was due to unfortunate circumstances at home.  The situation unfolded into ugly events, and my brain could not process how to handle this very tough emotional time.  I was discharged with a much healthier mindset and the ability to cope with the emotional stressors at home.  


Memorial Day weekend of 2020 was beyond a nightmare for my mental health.  At my job, I was reporting the amount of COVID-related deaths per day.  This was precisely when my brain shut down and my medications stopped working.  Before I could take the pills that lurked in the distance, I called my mom from my closet crying and she contacted my husband who took me to the ED.  While staring at the blank white walls, the doctors came up with a home-care plan to keep me safe and change my medications to a new cocktail that would prove to positively change the next four years of my life.  


I explain my story not for sympathy but for understanding.  I write to all of you in grave detail not for pity but for hope.  And I share my past with you because I know a different future lies ahead.  I have grown emotionally and psychologically stronger and wiser over the years.  And above all, I have made a conscious decision to "Be a Stiletto In a Room Full of Flats" and therefore I put my high heels on every day. 

Love Note: With all my heart, I genuinely request that due to the content written, please seek the guidance of professional help should you feel you need it.

Everything Will Fall Into Place

Someone recently asked me a very genuine and real question about my health.  They inquired as to whether or not my mental health was ever the cause of an in-patient hospital stay.  The short answer to their question is "yes".  I have been admitted to a psychiatric ward 3 times and each time I stayed for a minimum of a week.  There were 2 other instances where I went to the Emergency Department and my psychiatrist was contacted immediately, my medications changed, and I was discharged without an in-patient stay.

 
I knew I suffered from depression at a young age.  Yet it was not until college that the depression worsened.  While pursuing my undergraduate degree, I was first admitted to the hospital.  

At the time, I had given my boyfriend two options, "blue or red" because all I wanted to do was sleep and not feel anything.  I knew he was in a dorm room with another girl and there was nothing I could do to change his mind for him to come see me instead.  He texted me back "blue" and I immediately took 4 blue pills.  The next day, he took me to a local hospital where they admitted me to the psychiatric ward for one week.  

Upon discharge from this hospital stay, my University would not let me step foot back onto campus without a doctor's note because I was considered a "potential harm to myself and others".  Therefore, I went home for a week, obtained a note from my new psychiatrist, went back to campus and subsequently lost my on-campus job.  

The following summer I stopped taking all my mental health medications and moved across the country.  Before I moved, my psychiatrist said "you think that by leaving you can run from your depression but that will not work".  And he was most unfortunately right.  

While the circumstances that lead me to the psychiatrists office were based on a response to an unfortunate relationship experience, the illness itself was not situational.  Therefore, when I moved, my mental health disorder moved with me.  And I knew then that this was going to be a long-term battle.  I realized it would be a journey that I could never "run away" from because my health was not situational, but rather it was the condition of the chemical imbalance in my brain.

When I reflect on that young woman from over 20 years ago, it pains me to remember the ugly parts of this illness.  And yet I choose to offer myself forgiveness and grace for all that life has thrown my direction.  I am reminded that sometimes it is best to just take life day by day, hour by hour or even minute by minute.  I know that I will still be okay, that I will make it through each challenge and with my high heels on my feet, everything will fall into place... sometimes it just takes time.  

Love Note: With all my heart, I genuinely request that due to the content written, please seek the guidance of professional help should you feel you need it.