Happy Easter. . .

Happy Easter!  Or perhaps I should say "inappropriately Happy Easter!!  Lately, I've taken to being "inappropriately happy". I didn't even know you could be inappropriately happy - at least not until I looked up the side effects for the new medication I am on for the as yet undecided typed of arthritis I have been struggling with.  (The current thought is now Rheumatoid Arthritis- I see the rheumatologist in a few weeks - I am holding out for a weird virus or temporary something rare - rather than chronic auto immune disease)

Let's ponder that for a moment, shall we. . .  I feel like complete crap-joint pain, swelling, stiffness, fatigue beyond belief - and then I start a new medication that makes me feel, well, HUMAN, for the first time in weeks, and apparently I should be aware -  I can become inappropriately happy, as a result of taking this drug!  Thank you Captain Obvious!  This is not the side effect I am worried about, but good to let me know.  Just in case I need to dial down the happiness if it gets really out of control.

I am feeling better, I know it's somewhat temporary due primarily to the prednisone I am taking. That sh*t is powerful - and also destructive.  It eats away at bones, impairs sleep, raises blood pressure, and makes you cranky.  But, wow - it really works.  And at this point, I will take it.  Anything to have some semblance of my life back.

I am (very grudgingly) making some changes in my life.  Working less, sleeping more, practicing meditation -emphasis on the practice - "quieting my mind" may just be the hardest thing I am asked to do in a day.  I cannot put on a ball glove, which causes me a great deal of grief and sadness, but I am blessed by amazing parents who run my practices, while still allowing me to "motivate" the girls on my team with a few well placed shouts.  Running is out, and I am trying to appreciate what walking can do for my body.  I am starting  some water based exercise next week, and hoping yoga will also become a part of my regular routine.  Baby steps, really, since I still am oh-so-tired, nor completely pain free.  Life is different.

I am lucky - I have a great GP now, and a relatively quick referral to a specialist ( nothing to sneeze at in long wait time BC), and incredibly supportive circle of family, friends, church family, and colleagues.  That makes this all manageable - this is why I am inappropriately happy - and not miserable, at least most of the time.

 So a very Happy Easter to everyone - it is after all, a time for new life, renewal and hope.

And I will take that every time.

Let's talk. . .

Typically, I try to be somewhat funny and irreverent, and just a little cheeky when I am blogging.  It is a fairly honed skill I have developed over the years - a bit of a stereotype, actually.  You know, the fat funny girl, the one everyone finds hilarious, the one who often does not ever reveal what is actually going on inside.  I like that part of me - it keeps me safe when I don't want to "go there", and plus it is a bit of a bonus that when you are somewhat funny, people like to be around you.  And I really like people around me.

But today I want to be serious.  Partly for me, partly for the many, many people who live with mental illness in this country, and around the world.  Here in Canada, tomorrow, February 12th is "Let's Talk" day, sponsored by Bell.  It is a day to talk openly about mental illness, to try to reduce the stigma associated with mental illness, and to assist people to access resources for diagnosis, treatment and support.  I think it is a very important initiative, for very personal reasons.

You see, I have a mental illness.  Yup, it's true.  The fat, funny gal with the big laugh, and bigger butt.  I have lived with depression for many years, beginning when I was first diagnosed in 1st year university, up to today.  Almost 30 years. Two thirds of my life.

Some of you know this about me.  Most people don't.  There is really no need for me to announce the fact to everyone I meet - "Hi I'm Jacquelin and I live with a mental illness, let's be friends!"  But today I want to share this part of who I am, because I believe it is really, really important that we talk about mental illness, that we are honest about our experiences, and that we seek solutions together.  It is not the end of the world for me to have depression, but at times in my life it has sure felt like it.  I am hoping that by sharing my story, I can break down some of the stigma about who gets a mental illness and what that looks like.

So what does it mean to live with depression?  For me it has meant lots of sadness, lots of dark days, lots of therapy, and lots of love and laughter.  Sometimes, life has seemed so dark that I thought I would never survive, I didn't want to.  There have been moments of absolute profound joy, like when each of my beautiful children were born.  There has been an ocean of tears, hours of talking and thinking and listening with  a therapist, and a virtual pharmacy of antidepressants to figure out what would work for me at any given time in my life.  It has been incredibly difficult at times, and I have been blessed with family and friends and a partner who have chosen to love me in spite of the challenges that living with a depressed person present.  Let's face it - mental illness is not for the faint of heart.  Anyone who thinks that it is an "easy" out has absolutely no clue what it means to deal with mental health concerns on a daily basis, year in, year out.

Despite the challenges, I am lucky.  I have had access to therapy, and medication when I needed it, and a circle of supportive people who have loved me in spite of how crazy I have felt ( and acted).  Sometimes I wish I didn't have to still take anti depressants every day.  I sometimes feel like I want to be "normal", whatever that is, and who defines what that is, anyway?  But like an insulin dependent diabetic, I have a chemical imbalance in my body that requires me to manage it with medication.  It is not an easy way out, or me failing to deal with my problems.  It is what helps me to be a healthy mom, wife, friend, sister, daughter, worker, and coach.  And I am all of those things and much, much more.  So much more than a diagnosis.

So, my secret is out.  Never really was a secret, but it wasn't something I felt comfortable sharing widely.  But talking about mental illness is the thing that ultimately is going to help me, and many others like me, and their families and friends.  Mental illness is not a character flaw, nor is it a disability.  It is simply one piece of the complicated puzzle that makes up me.  I am ok with that.  And I hope you will be, too.
For more information on depression and other mental illnesses, please check out the following links:

http://letstalk.bell.ca/en/the-facts

http://www.cmha.ca/

For info about mental health and children and youth:

http://keltymentalhealth.ca/