Category Archives: depression

Here Now

September 20, 2011

I was making his lunch, putting away the dishes, setting up coffee for morning. Simple tasks. I looked from the kitchen to the family room and saw my son and my husband sitting close together on the couch watching Monday Night Football while eating ice cream, the dog asleep at their feet. Simple things. Beautiful things.

In a moment I was flung back in time, 15 years ago. At the young age of 24 in my one bedroom apartment that was too close to the Minneapolis airport. I would miss ten minutes of “Friends” each Thursday whenever the flight pattern changed to directly over my roof.

At the young age of 24 something gave in my brain. A connection blew.  A neurotransmitter failed to connect to its buddy on the other side.

At 23 I was happy, carefree, boy-crazy. At 24 I was in a deep depression accompanied by the highest general anxiety. Everything scared me. My stomach was in such knots I couldn’t eat so I began to drink Ensure in order to get some nutrients. Thoughts terrified me. I questioned everything. “Why are we here? What is the point of all of this?”

I was miserable. I felt as if I had no one. For the first time in my life I was really alone.

I looked in the mirror and thought, “How can I possibly go on? How do people live? I don’t think I can do this.” I didn’t have a “plan”. I didn’t have the energy.

I sat at my hand-me-down dining room table and wrote out bills while thinking, “Who cares about the phone bill when one day I won’t be here.”

I summoned the strength and courage to call home. Even though my dad and I never had deep conversations, those days all I had was deep. I told him all my fears and sadness while he said, “Sweetheart, you may not believe me but someday I promise you, you’ll have a home with a husband and a child and even a dog. This will happen to you. You won’t always feel this way. This will pass. You just have to believe me. Don’t think of right now. Think of when you’re 40. You’ll have it all. I promise.”

I held onto that dream like a child with a dandelion for her mother.

I somehow managed through… clutching my dandelion.

Back in my kitchen, in the present, I shuddered off the thought and smiled as I wiped down the counters and looked again at my family. I’m currently 39.

 

*I’m taking part in Heather of the EO’s Just Write. Take a minute to go and read Heather’s words. They are really good ones.

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depression, Just Write, my serious side

The Year I Don’t Hate January

January 5, 2011

Normally this is my least favorite time of the year.

The holidays are over, the snow is dirty, the mail is no longer interesting, there isn’t a day off until late May and winters in Wisconsin are much like Paula Abdul. THEY NEVER GO AWAY.

But this year, oh this year is just a bunch of goodness in the first quarter of 2011.

In a little over a week I’m headed to Chicago for a bachlorette party of sorts. “Of sorts” because I’m going with just my cousin and my BFF Darcy. My little but very mighty wedding party. I decided to forgo the unoriginal (and ridiculous for anyone over 35) dance club while being donned with many a plastic penis and fake veil, for a weekend of good shopping, great food, delicious wine and two of my favorite women on the planet. I think I made a wise choice, no? Plastic penis just isn’t my color.

If that isn’t enough to make a girl giddy, in February I will be showered with two showers. One thrown by Darcy and my mom here in Madison and one in Oconomowoc with Matt’s mom and sisters. Since Matt’s family is close to the population of a small town, they decided to celebrate with me on their turf. Sounds great to me. Will travel for presents.

And then there’s March. Where it’s my 39th birthday and a week long trip to Jamaica. Oh and I guess I shouldn’t forget that third weekend in March where I’ll get to see my boy in a tux while Matt does me the honor of becoming Mr. Becky Mikkimoto.

Back in September, when I was dealing with a mind that was AWOL, the thought of making it through the day let alone my wedding sent adrenaline mixed with dread rushing through my veins. I had no idea how I was going to pull it off and the whole notion scared the hell out of me. Not ever questioning my love for Matt, just the wedding itself.

But now! Now that I’m happy, sane and in a really good place, I CAN. NOT. WAIT! I can honestly say I’m not nervous, not freaking out, just happy. And down right excited!

If things go wrong, if something is forgotten, if someone can’t come, it’s all OK because I’m marrying the best man I know, regardless of what happens around us.

So my dear readers, if I’m annoyingly euphoric in the next several weeks, during this usual worst time of the year, won’t you forgive me?

I promise if I say anything about winter being beautiful you have my permission to punch me in the ovary.

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depression, family, friends, thats one way to end a post, wedding

Good Change Is Still Change

October 12, 2010

Recently with the help of those close to me (and by “help” I mean my mother and my cousin screaming “BECKY! THIS IS WHAT’S GOING ON WITH YOU!” The women in my family are bossy and loud.) I have realized that this “stuff” I’m going through is due to the fact that nothing in my life is the same as it was a year ago. Wait. Make that seven months ago.

I have been single and actively dating for twenty years. That’s two decades. I’ve been looking for “The One” longer than Justin Bieber has been on this planet. It was a way of life. It was, sometimes, how I defined myself. “He thinks I’m pretty.” “He thinks I’m a freak.”

I dreamed of finding someone like Matt for as long as I thought boys weren’t disgusting. And I never dreamed it could be this good. Now, I don’t have to date anymore. Look at other men. Scour dating sites. Figure out what I’m going to wear on Saturday night. I have him. I’m done with that chapter.

What do I do with that part of myself?

Along with finding Matt and getting married, comes the huge fact and realization I’m no longer a single parent. I’m no longer a single mom. That fact makes me happy to no end and yet, makes me wonder who I am?

Even when in other relationships, men I lived with, these guys were never fathers to my son. They knew it. I knew it.

But now I found a man, a husband and a father for my son. He happily takes him to his sporting events. He picks him up from my parents house during the week. They go to dinner together and rent movies. They play football in the park. They have their own life.

I’m no longer two parents for my kid. That huge, yet familiar and comfortable, responsibility has now been elevated. Again, this is wonderful but big. A massive change.

With that life partner of mine also comes also financial stability. I’m not going to get into details but lets just say that past decade raising Ben on my own, always wanting to live in a nice place for him, make sure he didn’t go without, was hard. Very hard.

I was proud and didn’t want to ask for help.

There were times when I was really broke. When we had $20 until payday and needed groceries. (p.s. I can say now that I really only had $21 until pay day. It wasn’t a game.) I worried about money all the time. All the time.

I’m hardly saying I’m rich now but that constant worry is gone. I don’t hunt down the best gas prices, I don’t check my bank balance several times a day. It’s not who I am anymore. This is a wonderful thing. I dreamed of being like this. However it’s new. A new different feeling. Not my normal “me”.

I am now diabetic. I will always have to watch what I eat. I will always wonder what my blood sugars are. Even when I’m off medication it will always be in my chart. It will always be part of my identity.

Diabetes has turned my life around when nothing else would. I no longer look to food for comfort. It doesn’t consume my every other thought. It’s energy and fuel. I’ve lost 30 pounds. My body doesn’t look the same. I exercise now because I love it and for mental health. Not because I “have” to. I love this but again, it’s change. And not my normal “me”.

Yes, these are all WONDERFUL changes. My tag-line is indeed correct. I’m truly living in my happily ever after. And I’m grateful for it all.

But for a girl who craves routine and organization lots of change, multiple changes all in the span of a few months is very unsettling. When your basic identity is drastically changed, you go through “stuff” until it feels right. Until you can sit with this new self and recognize her.

Even though the change is good, hoped for, and yearned for it’s still change.

No wonder I wasn’t sleeping…

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changes, depression, diabetes, ENGAGED, family, life lessons

On the Other Side

September 23, 2010

Obviously something has been up with me. If the past two posts haven’t clued you in, my silence and lack of blogging sure should have.

Now that I’m happily on the other side of this nightmare I can piece it all together and want to share it with you, as I have shared in the past.

A month after I was diagnosed with diabetes, I was feeling so great. I had energy for the first time in months, I was working out for the first time in years, I just felt amazing. I wrote on April 6th “my mood is so good I have even tapered off and ended my anti depressant.”

Oh dear.

Slowly and subtly over the summer I realized that plan in April wasn’t a great idea. I deserve to be at my very best and all those close to me can tell you, I wasn’t.

So right before Labor Day I called up my doctor and said, “Hey, can you prescribe that little pill for me again?” In addition, with diabetes comes depression so she was happy to and thought it was a good idea.

I started it on Tuesday the 7th.

Thursday the 9th I was up all night with heart palpitations and panic attacks. ALL NIGHT. I thought it was a one time deal. I was just stressed. It freaked me out but I just assumed it would go away.

Until I didn’t sleep on Saturday night, or Monday night, or the following Saturday night or Sunday night.

Here’s the thing. I sleep. That’s my gig. Ask anyone who has known me for more than a week. Becky sleeps. Throughout all stress, pain, fear, I still sleep.

This also wasn’t just “Oh I didn’t sleep last night.” Which really means I fell asleep at 3 am. I was awake. All night. I truly thought I had forgotten how to sleep and would never again.  (p.s. if you ever have insomnia never Google “Massive Sleep Deprivation Side Effects”. In fact stay far away from the Google.)

Matt’s alarm is set for 5 am.  Normally I never hear it.  One particular morning as I heard it and realized I had yet another sleepless night, I said in a quiet exhausted voice, “Fuck.”  To which poor scared confused Matt said, “NO!”

Me not sleeping was scaring all of us. I tried to be very brave for Ben even though I was absolutely terrified and so sleep deprived it took me 20 minutes to figure out how to make a sandwich for him.

Every day as evening approached I would start to panic. “Will I sleep tonight?” And let me just say, that doesn’t help.

By Monday morning I was insane. Depressed, anxious, sick. (Silver lining: a great way to drop five pounds fast) I would never wish sleep deprivation on my worst enemy. I would be asked “Are you still walking? Exercise helps.” To a woman who didn’t have the energy or the stability to do laundry or even brush her teeth, exercise was a pipe dream.

With the help of many hours on the phone with my mother, my best friend Darcy, and my cousin Amy (not a surprise those two are standing up for me in the wedding) I called my doctor on Monday morning and yelled from the mountain tops, “SOMETHING IS WRONG! HELP ME! PLEASE!”

Turns out, even though this one anti-depressant worked perfectly for years, I have a new body now. I have a new chemical make up and side effects that were never there before reared their ugly head this time around.

My doctor promptly switched me to a new medication at a lower dose and after a week I have finally gotten my life back. I still have some anxiety before sleep but as each night I sleep like the old Becky, I feel safer and better. To say I’m grateful is an understatement.

I purposely am not saying which drugs these are because everyone is different and from searching the message boards (BAD IDEA!) it’s not the medication. It’s how it reacts with each individual.

I wanted to write this very personal post in hopes that it may help someone who is going through the same thing or knows someone who is.

I also wanted to share the importance of being your own advocate. SCREAM for help! Beg for it. Don’t give up. No one has to suffer. I am so thankful I yelled. And yelled loud.

Again, I normally don’t get this personal but I felt this was important. This blog is mine, it’s my voice and honesty is something I have always prided myself on. With that said, please be gentle in your comments.

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depression, diabetes, hope, life lessons, sleep
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