A small step or a giant leap?

I did it! To some, it was a small feat, but for me, it's a gigantic achievement!

I have been volunteering at the SPCA for a few weeks now and loving every minute of it :).

Unfortunately, I was going through a depression last week and did not go in on Tuesday.  In previous jobs, when I missed a day or two of work, I would be so anxious and fearful about going back that I would usually miss more days and be totally terrified when I had to go back.

Well, since missing last week, I was nervous to go back and I think some of that led to my increasing depression toward the end of the week.

But, I talked with Stace and she reassured me that everything would be okay when I went back today.  She was right!  I walked in with my head held high and people were happy to see me and nobody was mad at me like I always fear.

Granted, this is a volunteer job that I only do one day a week.  But, I still get really nervous because in all my other jobs, my co-workers would be mad at me because me not being there would create more work for them.

This is totally different, but I'm so proud of myself for going back and not being terrified!

Like I always say, it's the little things :)

Moments with Martina

I got an idea from someone else to write about someone that helped change the way I see my illnesses.  I immediately thought of my favorite nurse, Martina.

I have been struggling with Depression and Bipolar for most of my life. I have been hospitalized more times than I'd like to remember, but there is really only one hospital I would ever go to.

The reason is because my favorite nurse works there and she always talks with me and treats me with respect.  Her name is Martina and she has helped me through so much in the times that I've been to "her" hospital.

The first time I was hospitalized there in 2001, I just remember that it was one of the worst times in my life, and she just listened.  She really heard what I was saying and didn't give advice unless I wanted her to.
I have since been to "her" hospital many times and usually she is my nurse (I haven't been hospitalized in almost 5 years).  I love to see her smile and I get happy when I know she is coming on shift and will be my nurse.

There was the time that I told her that I thought I was gay and was so scared about what she would say.  She just said "okay" like it was no big deal and told me that she would talk with one of the social workers (who was gay) and ask him about support groups and such.  Next thing I knew, she came to me with lots of information and said that if I needed more, she would help me any way she could.  She told me that it was okay to be gay and that she really didn't think that God had a problem with it (I was afraid that God wouldn't love me anymore).  She reassured me and said that she would be there if I needed anything.

Then there was the time in 2006 when I had tried to end my life and was living in a group home.  I had been in the ICU and then was sent to the psych unit at her hospital.  I was miserable, even though a very healing thing happened to me there. I was going to have a meeting with the director of my group home and I knew that they were going to tell me things I didn't want to hear.  I didn't know exactly what they were going to say, but I talked with Martina about it and she told me to just sit there and listen and accept whatever they were telling me.  Then I went into the meeting and it was bad.  You can't have your car.  You are going to be moved to a very restrictive house.  Someone will give you your medications.  Basically, all my perceived freedoms were being taken away and I felt like I was being punished for attempting to end my life.

After the meeting, I sat and ate my lunch and, through sobs of tears, talked with Martina about it.  I'll never forget that she sat with me and let me cry, but she also was steadfast in her responses to my thinking that now my life was REALLY over.  She said that it was okay to cry now but that I needed to be strong and get through the next few months if I really wanted to get out of the group home.  She told me to just do what I had to do (do whatever they said) and get things in order so I could leave the home for good.  She said that she believed in me and she knew that I would do it in a few months because it's really what I wanted to do. She let me cry, but she also gave me the support and love that I so desperately needed at the time.

A few days later, I gave her a hug as I left the hospital and told her that I wouldn't be back.  The only time I ever went back was in 2010 for a brief "tune up" and I haven't been back since then.

She has always been there for me, though.  She was the first person I called when my wife and I got engaged, and she was the most treasured guest at our wedding.

These moments that she and I have shared have kept me on the straight and narrow for a long time.  I now am living my life with my wife and our family, but I am grateful for her support!

Dear Bipolar, BPD and Anxiety...

(This is my letter to my illnesses, as posted on The Mighty.)

Dear mental illnesses,

You almost took my life.  Several times.  I wanted to leave this world because of you, Depression.   You, Bipolar Disorder, made me feel like crap because you caused my moods to shift so violently that I would be happy and on top of the world in the morning and suicidal by night.

You made me feel like I couldn't handle you, because your control would cause me to believe that I was a piece of trash, unworthy of love and happiness.  I believed you for a long time- too long.

Borderline Personality Disorder, you were such a horrible nemesis that, for so long, I didn't even want to admit that I had you.  I hated you and what you made me feel and do.  You created so much anger in me and I couldn't deal with it until a couple of years ago. You made me feel worthless, fearful, hopeless, dangerous and suicidal. I was out of control and loud and I did not want to listen to anyone or try to do well.  I couldn't. You warped my whole identity and made me feel like less of a person.  I never thought I could overcome you because I never admitted I had you, until a few years ago.

Anxiety, you told me that I would never be happy with another woman.  You would wake me up in a panic nearly every morning with thoughts of wanting to kill myself because of who I am.  You screamed at me that God would never love me if I loved my soul mate.  I couldn't eat.  I felt nauseous and sick because of you overwhelming my thoughts and body with your lies.  You had such a grip on me that I was sick to the very core of my being simply for being me.

But when I met her, my whole life changed.  She loves me like no one else ever has or ever could.  Thanks to her love, and the help of the people I let into my life, I am no longer just surviving, I am thriving.

You all still linger and I will always have to keep you at bay and remember to take care of myself, but I am handling all of you far better than I ever thought possible.  I have learned that love truly does conquer all.  I have learned that you will not defeat me.  You will no longer tell me that I am unworthy or hopeless.

I know now that I can have hope.  I DO have hope.  I am living well with all of you! I am happy and healthy now and I do not wish you well. I will do whatever I need to do to make sure you are out of my life for good.  I will win!

Sincerely not yours,
Megan

I am living proof :)

(This is my story as posted on The Mighty)

"Max is three, is three is seven, is seven is seven, is seven, is seven, is three is seven, is seven, is seven, I believe that faith has brought us here and we should be together babe but we're not, we're not is seven, is seven is seven, is seven, is seven, seven is five, is five is six, is six, is six..."  

This is what it's like to be in my brain for just a few seconds.  I've never been formally diagnosed with OCD, but I truly believe I have it.  I have, however, been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, and Anxiety, though I am coping well now.

I've struggled with mental illness for most of my life, having been formally diagnosed with Major Depression after a suicide attempt at age 14.  It has not been an easy road.  I have attempted to end my life about six times, which led me to needing surgery, having to drink charcoal, and being in the ICU twice on three of those occasions.
I wanted help, but not from the people who wanted to help me.  I felt that they said they wanted to help me, but had already hurt me so much that I didn't want anything to do with them.

After one of the more serious attempts, my family was so scared for my safety that they had me go live in a group home for those with serious mental illness.  I hated it there and I hated my family more for making me live there (although I was 24 at the time, so I technically went voluntarily).  Still I hated them and it.

After living in the group home for two years, I made another serious attempt on my life. I was sent to a psychiatric unit that I had been on many times before, but what happened while I was there was something I had never expected.  There I was, sitting in a chair watching tv, wanting to die still.  All of a sudden, God spoke to me.  I have never heard voices, and I just KNEW it was Him.  He said "You're worth it to me and I love you!"  From that moment on, I was changed forever!

In 2006, at the age of 26, I moved out of the group home, got on Disability, and my housing voucher came through, so I got a one-bedroom apartment of my own.  I started working part-time and seeing a therapist and psychiatrist regularly.
I was still having some issues with the Bipolar, BPD, and Anxiety, especially around an issue that I had been struggling with for a long time.

I knew that I was a lesbian from the time I was nineteen years old.  I just knew.  But the church I went to did not like that.  So, bravely, I decided to leave that church, and in just a short time after that, I met my amazing wife!  She is the most amazing person I've ever met.  She is accepting and loving and is the best partner in life I could have ever asked for!

Our first couple of years were really difficult, but with her help, the help of my therapist and psychiatrist, and the medications, I am happy and healthy today!

My wife and I have been together for over seven years, married for over five, and have two fur-sons that are our children.

I am currently working with NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness) as an In Our Own Voice presenter, where I share my story of living well with mental illnesses.  Recently, I became a volunteer Surgery Tech at the Maryland SPCA, where I help dogs and cats.

I really feel like I have the best life and wouldn't change a thing!  There is hope! You can live well with mental illness! I am living proof!

Loving Life and then...

I wrote this today for The Mighty, but then decided to start blogging again :). So here is the post that was intended for The Mighty... (I hope you stick with me as I navigate the blogging world again...)

I've been doing well- really well.  I've been feeling good and have been my happiest and healthiest self for a long time now.  And I've been loving every moment of it!  I am doing In Our Own Voice presentations, and while I didn't do any in March, I have two scheduled for April.  And that makes me so happy because I get to share my story with people who are struggling with mental illness, know someone who is, or who are in school to work with those people.  It truly is my honor and privilege to give people hope and help. And it really is! I love it!
And, just this month, I started volunteering with the SPCA in surgery and I love every minute of it! It's been my dream to be in the medical field and I get to do that with the SPCA.
So, it has come as quite a big surprise to me that I am now living in the shadows of depression, even if it is a mild one.  It sucks and I hate every moment of it. When I say mild, I mean that thoughts of suicide are no longer part of my depressions.  Thank God for that.  And when I say mild, I mean that I feel like crap- very tired, no energy, don't want to eat, nauseous sometimes, don't want to do anything except lay down and watch tv, feeling hollow in my chest, and sometimes my whole body hurts.  I ask my wife every five minutes if she's mad at me, why am I going through this, why am I so upset and how can I feel better.  She always replies that she's not mad at me, she hates that I'm going through this and if she could take it away, she would.  She loves me and I just have to ride it out.  And I know she's right, but I just HAVE to ask the questions to feel better.  But I don't until the depression rides itself out and I wake up feeling like my normal self.  And again, that's mild.  I used to suffer from everything I just mentioned on a much worse scale, plus twenty other symptoms, including suicidality.
My depressions now are few and far between, but still do happen.  Like, I have been doing great for about three months now with even moods and happy thoughts.  That is a god-send, I must say.  Because depression, even mild ones, are still extremely hard to get through, and often I forget that I always get through them, so my wife has to remind me.  Every. Single. Time.
So, this is just what happens, but it still sucks when it does.  I don't like having Bipolar because of the depressions, but I can't hate it because it has made me the strong, fierce person I am today.  I will get through it, I know.