Videos Back by Popular Demand

 No more anonymity.  I used to put videos on my YouTube channel and people generally liked them because they could connect with me and better understand how my brain works.  I want people to know that I am a real person and these are my real struggles.  It's too easy to separate or dismiss what we read and not empathize or sympathize with a person.  I don't want pity or thoughts and prayers.  That's all total bullshit that does nothing to help the person receiving them.  I want people to be able to connect with the human side of mental health struggles.

Feel free to comment on anything you read, see or hear.  This is an open forum.  Ask questions or simply show support for me or someone you know that is fighting a mental health battle.  I know this is a potential advertisement for negativity.  I accept that as a very real consequence.  However, I'll endure negative comments if just one post helps someone see the light at the end of the tunnel.  That would make it all worth it.

Mental Melt Downs

 I have been experiencing momentary temper tantrums or melt downs over the last several weeks.  They have been over insignificant shit and they continue until my attention is diverted elsewhere or I am distracted by something else.  I have never had these lapses as an adult so I can only assume they are related to the medication or the medication is revealing behaviors that were previously suppressed.

 Some examples I have experienced most recently:

 I am a very sensitive sleeper.  Sensitive to light, sensitive to noise, and sensitive to temperature.  If things aren't perfect, I don't sleep well.  For obvious reasons, summer is a real nightmare.  It's usually too hot to sleep with the windows open and if I can, I have to find a way to drown out any noise and block any light from coming into my room.  I typically start checking the temperature around 7:30 each night so I can start adjusting the AC, if necessary.  Saturday night a couple weeks ago, it was still pretty hot at 9:00.  I had a melt down even though I know it's often too hot for me to sleep.  I was convinced that if I kept looking out the window that the weather and temperature would suddenly change.  I was convinced that the AC wouldn't be enough.  I was also convinced that I wouldn't be able to sleep.  I suspect this irrational response would have continued for several minutes had Ming not been there to talk me down off the ledge.  She was able to distract me and talk me through my irrationality.

 Ming and I were at Costco a few weeks ago.  I had cherries on my list if they had them, which meant I should have been prepared for them to not have them.  Then, we got to the fruit...and there were no cherries...let the melt down begin.  Ming immediately saw my reaction and tried to distract me.  She assured me it wasn't the end of the world, but I wasn't convinced.  I wasn't convinced until I saw the peaches and then nectarines over her shoulder.  I went from about to throw a fit in the store to not caring about cherries at all in the span of about 5 seconds.  Again, this is such a trivial thing but my brain doesn't see it that way.  It sees red and the panic ensues.

 I was making my weekly chili one Sunday, just like I always do.  Except I forgot a couple key ingredients.  I realized it the second I opened the lid on my Instant Pot.  I had forgotten to add spices to the pot before I set it to cook.  I was distraught and was certain it was ruined.  Again, Ming was there to calm me down and convince me that I could add the seasoning in after the fact.  I wasn't convinced.  I "knew" it wouldn't be the same.  I was certain it wouldn't be the same.  I added the seasoning and put the lid back on, hoping it would work.  I was anxious about it until the next day when I had it for dinner.  I obsessed over it.

 I was doing laundry last weekend and was almost done folding it all and pairing up my socks.  Laundry is one of those tasks I find therapeutic.  I become transfixed on folding everything just right.  Pairing up my sock with the right sock on top of the left, never the left on top of the right.  Everything was fine until I got to the last pair of socks.  One was missing.  I spent the next 45 minutes searching for the sock.  I had my flashlight out, I was throwing things, and was literally in tears...over a fucking sock.  I was seconds away from calling Ming to ask (more like accuse) her if she knew where it was.  I was completely irrational.  I "knew" she took it for some reason.  I was convinced she had some sinister plot against me.  In one brief moment of clarity, I looked inside one pair of my compression shorts.  A sock or headband had never ended up inside them, but I figured it was worth a look.  I had found the missing sock inside my compression shorts after 45 minutes.

 I was at the gym last week, during my most recent depressive episode.  I was hearing voices in my head at the time.  I wasn't sure where they were coming from so I kept my distance (they are still new to me).  I was watching people to see if they were talking to me.  They weren't.  The voices really were in my head.  I tried to lift and keep to myself, but the voices persisted until they reached a crescendo.  I had to leave the gym in a hurry before I melted down in front of everyone.  I immediately went out the roll-up door and just started crying.  I was hyperventilating and panicking at the same time.  I just wanted the voices to stop and leave me alone.  It was too much noise in my head.  Ming saw I was in distress and immediately jumped into action to calm me down and comfort me.  She won't always be there to help me.  She can't be my crutch and that worries me.  I am worried that one of these breakdowns will happen at work or somewhere else and she won't be there to help me.  I have to be self-reliant and get these episodes under control.  I can't find a therapist that is available until next year.  I have to believe that I will be okay until then, but there is no guarantee.  I guess I just keep working with my doctor to increase the medication dosage until then.  That seems like a dead end proposition that is only masking the issue.

 I don't know if these incidents are another symptom or just coincidence.  I never had outbursts like them before.  I try to not look for new things to be wrong with me, but they are hard to miss when they are out of character when compared to the last several years.  I am still tying to pinpoint what changed and when.  I can't help but to problem solve myself.  Ultimately, I realize it doesn't matter what changed or when.  I have to deal with the here and now.  Some days are better than others and that's the best I can ask for.  I just wish the bad days weren't as bad as they are.  I suppose I shouldn't complain since I can still function most of the time.  Granted, it's in a limited capacity, but I can still function.

 I am debating adding videos to the blog in place of writing.  I desperately want to put a face with a name or at least a voice to what I am going through.  I truly believe sharing my experience with mental health can help people.  It's hard for people to connect with written words only.  It doesn't feel like it's something real.

Surviving More Depressive Episodes

 I thought I was done with depression once I was medicated.  I was wrong.  I am in the midst of a depressive episode as I type this.  It has been like this since last Thursday.  I think it peaked late Saturday, but I saw very little improvement yesterday or today.  I don't want to be at work today, but at least I wanted to get out of bed.  That's a step forward out of this current episode.  I didn't want to get out of bed on Saturday.  I didn't even want to exist.  I wanted to be invisible again.  It's incredibly difficult to coach when I feel this way.  I am trying to help people when I can't even help myself.  I am trying to make members lives better while I am slowly falling apart on the inside.  Some notice the difference, some don't.  The people close to me see it the second I walk in the door.  I feel and look like a zombie.  I am emotionless. I am not receptive to conversation.  I am much more passive and agreeable.  I don't think I am instinctively disagreeable, but I am skeptical of most people.

 People ask me what depression feels like.  Some people have equated it to the loss of a pet or family members.  I have lost both and those experiences aren't remotely close to how depression feels.  Depression feels like my brain is trying to kill me.  It's death by a thousand cuts, but from the inside.  My brain doesn't want me to get better.  It wants me to give up.  It has conversations in my head that aren't my own.  Not so much hearing voices, but the conversations just aren't centered around my thoughts.  I suppose that is hearing voices to an extent.  I never thought I would be fighting myself to survive each day.

 I used to dismiss people that suffered from depression and killed themselves as selfish and cowardly.  To those people, I sincerely apologize.  Now that I am battling depression, I get it.  I understand why they did what they did.  I understand how they finally had enough.  I understand what drove them to make such an apparently irrational decision.  Unfortunately, it's entirely rational when you just want it to stop.  You want your brain to stop telling you things.  You want your brain back on your side.  You want your brain to function like it's supposed to (however that is).

 I am mentally ill.  I am humiliated.  I am scared of what may come next.  I have to accept the fact that I am not well.  I hate that I am this way.  I have not accepted who I am and who I have become.  I have tried to go back in time and think of when I wasn't sick.  Recent behavior changes are alarming.  The temper tantrums.  The conversations in my head that are not my own.  My brain telling me to stop everything.  My brain is an asshole again and I want it to stop.  I need it to stop, but it won't.  It persists in telling me I am sick and must accept that I can't function without medication.  It tells me that I am less of a man because I need help.  That I am a coward for not solving this problem on my own.  In my gut, I know these things aren't true.  Ming assures me these things aren't true.  I know my gut is right.  I know she is right.  My brain just isn't convinced.  It sees weakness and capitalizes on it at every turn.

 Ming told me yesterday to call her if I ever reached the point where I had enough.  I broke down in tears because it just doesn't work that way.  I wish it did, but depression doesn't work that way.  Depression is irrational.  I want it all to stop more than anything I have wanted in my entire life.  Stop torturing me as I try to survive another day.  Depression doesn't care who it hurts.  It doesn't care about the trail of destruction it leaves.  It is a mental hurricane and acts without compassion or remorse.  The lives it takes are inconsequential.  It will continue its destructive path until it stops by force through medication and treatment or by attrition leading to death.  These facts are true no matter how I look at them.  I am not in control of my illness yet.  I am unstable and uncertain.  I am scared of what symptom of my illness will expose itself next.  It could be tomorrow or a week from now, but I have this feeling of impending doom.  I am fighting for my life in a way I never thought I would have to.  I am fighting to exist in a world that equates depression to sadness or the death of a pet or family member.  I would take those things a thousand times over compared to the hell I am in right now.