apologies

to my friends and family out there who've been feeling neglected...

my dear husband, my sister julie, and my doc will testify to the fact that i've been in quite a funk for the past few weeks. yes, your phone calls and emails have gone unreturned. and no, i'm not proud of that. there have been times recently when i haven't had the energy to dial the phone, let alone engage in conversation.  and here's the deal, i would have engaged in phony, happy conversation with you, and you would have never known that i've felt more hopeless lately than i have since my initial diagnosis in 1997.  it's the pretending that gets me...

pretending is so exhausting. 

pretending that i'm okay.  right now, i'm not okay.  but maybe, i'm getting better.

i finally saw my wonderful doc yesterday, who is so patient and understanding and reassuring with me.  no, i'm not f ' ed up.  yes, i have a brain disease.  no, i'm not going crazy.  yes, it feels like it.  when you're in the fog, you only see the fog.  you don't realize there's a bright sun and beautiful blue sky out there.  you try to take people on faith, that everything will work out...but when everything around you is clouded and skewed, you begin to doubt yourself...your sanity...and the fear becomes all-consuming.

if i could only describe that fear for you...

i prayed for my doctor all day yesterday before my appointment, asking God to give him wisdom and the right words to say.  we have changed my medication, effective immediately.  i had been on lexapro since 2002.  doc said maybe it was time to shake things up a bit, just in case the lexapro had pooped out.  i agreed. (if you could all throw up a little prayer for me and my new drug regimen, i would appreciate it.)

the fear that comes with this disease causes me to doubt my worthiness of god's love and mercy.  in times like these, i find that, like the tax collector in Luke 18:13, i am unable to look to heaven, but instead continually pray, "God, be merciful to me, a sinner."

and i cry in comforted thanksgiving at this piece from brennan manning that i posted a few months ago...

why i love peggy

god is so ridiculously amazing...

peggy doesn't realize this, but her calls to me always come at the right time, which, as it turns out, is actually all about HIS timing.

i was just sharing with her that i may have to change my meds...that things have been "off" for three weeks. her response:

"okay, this is fixable. we can fix this. no problem."

and i told her i love her for that.

'cause i do.

i don't know...

maybe hope isn't such a good thing after all.

may is national mental health month

the following is a great clip from the documentary "no kidding, me too", with dr. chris stewart describing the ridiculous relationship between insurance companies and those seeking to help individuals with brain disease.

an open letter to joe pantoliano

dear joey,

thank you for your documentary. 

love,
jodi

p.s.  wanna grab a coffee sometime and chat?

in his father's footsteps

"We can perhaps remember - even if only for a time - that those who live with us are our brothers; that they share with us the same short moment of life; that they seek - as we do - nothing but the chance to live out their lives in purpose and happiness."  - Robert F. Kennedy, 1966

robert kennedy fought for the poor and disenfranchised, the dispossessed and powerless.  his son, robert f. kennedy, jr. continues the fight.  the younger kennedy's words near the end of the speech below (at the premiere of the "no kidding, me too!" documentary) are eerily reminscent of his father's:

"america is a place where we're supposed to build communities. we’re not going to be judged so much based upon the wealth of our citizens or the size of our armies or the throw-weight of our weapons or the power of our industries, but how we care for the least fortunate members in our society, how strongly and robustly we fight to include all the members of our community, no matter what their disability, and how strongly we avoid the seduction of the notion that we can advance ourselves as a people by leaving our poor brothers and sisters behind. we have to go forward as a community and we have to include the people who are the most vulnerable, the most alienated, in the most pain and agony. our response to that in the past has just been to add on cruelty. and joey’s [pantoliano] up there saying we can’t live that way anymore. that it’s bad not only for the people who suffer this disease but it’s bad for all of us to live in a society that condones that."

how beautifully put.



(mr. kennedy's reference to "joey" is joe pantoliano, mental health advocate and founder of "no kiddding, me too." also, mr. kennedy suffers from the neurological disorder spasmodic dysphonia, which makes speech difficult.)

no kidding, me too

love, love, love this new public service announcement from joe pantoliano's organization, "no kidding, me too!".  hopefully, joey's documentary on mental illness will air in may on pbs.  until then, click here to watch some terrific video excerpts from the documentary and from NKM2 events. 

why i love joey

"mental health problems do not affect three or four out of every five persons, but one out of one.” - dr. william menninger

two weeks ago i had my three-month tune-up. you know...meds checked, confirmation that i'm not talking to pink elephants, that i'm actually sleeping, etc.  the regular stuff.  my check-ups are a breeze when i'm feeling okay.  and i was lucky to be feeling okay that day.  in fact, my doc actually said, and i quote, "you have a lightness about you," meaning that i was not bogged down in the mire...as is typical for november.  i explained that i had recently made the decision to cut very toxic individuals and situations from my life, and that could explain my "lightness". 

he told me it was about time.

okay, so, i've had some shaky moments since my check-up.  headaches.  really weird appetite ~ borderline nausea that turns into ravenous hunger.  inability to focus. racing thoughts.  typical symptoms.  but they seem to be coming and going...as opposed to just coming and staying.  and for that, i am grateful.  yes, this thanksgiving, i am grateful that as of yet, the black dog is not on my heels.  he's poked his head around the corner a couple of times, just to remind me that he hasn't disappeared, and that's okay.  he just needs to keep himself at a reasonable distance.

so, anyways, i love the quote by dr. menninger above.  it's true, whether you choose to believe it or not. 

a few weeks ago, a young man in our community attempted suicide.  i know of him, but don't know him personally.  still, when i found out what happened, i wanted desperately to help.  his pain is real.  his need for help is legitimate.  i'm sure his family feels helpless.  i hope they are not also feeling shame.

a very close friend in my life (who desires anonymity) is trying desperately to get mental health treatment, but keeps being put off by every counseling office that she calls; either they can't see her for another 6 weeks, or worse yet, one office said that if she were on a medical card, they could see her right away.  but because she is a professional, with insurance, she'll just have to wait.  her comment to me, "jodi, i'm literally begging for help, and i can't get it."

of course, the desire for anonymity (those of us with a mental illness usually desire it) is caused by stigma.  stigma kills.  if you haven't read the article about the death of robert enke, a european soccer player who chose to kill himself rather than disclose his clinical depression, then please click here.  his story is devastatingly familiar.

finally, if you haven't had a chance to check out two of my absolute favorite websites, please go to Bring Change 2 Mind and No Kidding, Me Too.  joe pantoliano has been on my hero's list for a long time; now i'm gonna have to add glenn close as well. 

by the way, if you head over to Bring Change 2 Mind, they have these really cool t-shirts, with a diagnosis on some, and then "sister", or "mother, or "combat partner", etc. on the other one.  i'd like to order one that says "depression" when the website opens their shop. 

in reality, shouldn't we all be buying a shirt?  either we have an illness, or we love someone who does. 

perhaps that's the point.

you go, glenn

here's some info from glenn close's new advocacy group, BringChange2Mind.  pretty cool stuff.  make sure you check it out.  in addition to his public service announcement, ron howard shot several other videos worth watching here.  i've included a behind-the-scenes clip of the PSA below.

BringChange2Mind.org is a not-for-profit organization created by Glenn Close, the Child and Adolescent Bipolar Foundation (CABF), Fountain House, and Garen and Shari Staglin of IMHRO (International Mental Health Research Organization).  The idea of a national anti-stigma campaign was born of a partnership between Glenn Close and Fountain House, where Glenn volunteered in order to learn about mental illness, which both her sister and nephew suffer from.

BringChange2Mind's mission is two-fold:

1. Provide people with misconceptions about mental illness quick and easy access to information that combats stigma.
2. Provide people with mental illness, and those who know them, quick and easy access to information about support.

Ron Howard generously donated his time in directing our first PSA that features Glenn Close and her sister, Jessie Close. John Mayer generously donated his song, Say, which serves as an anthem for this movement.

Our campaign has the support of major mental health organizations, including Active Minds, the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFSP), International Mental Health Research Organization (IMHRO), the Jed Foundation, Mental Health America (MHA), National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI), NARSAD, National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH), and the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA).

i've been singing this song all day

catharsis required (Rated PG-13)

my first thought as to how to start this blog entry was: damn it all to hell.

my second thought about this blog entry was: you can't be honest here. you'll just sound whiny.

and now my final thought is: damn it all to hell, i'm writing anyways.

i admit it. i'm on a slippery slope. i'm so tired. i'm so very tired. i need to stay busy, and yet i need to rest. if i don't stay busy ~ stay engaged ~ then i will disengage. and i can't disengage for fear that it will lead to me not being able to get out of bed.

i admit it. i've been stretched too thin. partly by my own doing, and partly by what i feel is expected of me from others. still, i look around at other women who do more than i do, and THEY aren't coming apart at the seams. why am i so damn weak?

i admit it. the dog is peaking his head around the corner at me while i type this. and yet, when or if you see me out and about, you won't realize that he is on my heels.

i admit it. i feel that i have no right to ask God for help with this. i suck at being a christian. i don't pray like i should, i don't put my heart into worship like i should, and i don't spend enough time with Him. steve spoke about our Father, Abba, this weekend, but steve...i still don't feel worthy.

i admit it. i feel like leo just doesn't get it sometimes. but how could he? he hasn't been to the moon...

years ago, leo and i were hooked on the tv show "thirtysomething". there was an episode when one of the characters, nancy, was dealing with her ovarian cancer diagnosis, and her friends were trying to understand all that she was feeling. and nancy explained, "it's like i've been to the moon. i can describe it for you, how beautiful and dark and different it is, but you'll never fully comprehend. you haven't been to the moon."

i admit. today is one of those days when i wish i had never been to the moon.

new stuff

i've added some new resources and articles for depression and mental illness on the side bar. several of the interviews with terry bradshaw and philip burguieres are fantastic. in fact, i think that philip burguieres (as well as his friend, john sage) are my new personal heroes.

below is the trailer for the upcoming film, "hope's messengers", by joe pantoliano of "no kidding, me too!". i sincerely hope it plays somewhere close...

elephant stampede at 3:00 am

(disclaimer: if you are offended by the use of profanity, or think that a Christian girl like me is doomed to hell by swearing, you may not want to read this blog entry. it contains raw emotion, as i am in the middle of dealing with the dog.)

earlier today i had to swallow my pride, yet again, and admit to myself that i was in trouble. the dog was back. shit.

for the past few days i've felt "off". i admitted this to phyllis saturday evening when i knocked on her door at 9:00 pm. as i've previously stated, when this disease comes calling for no apparent reason, it not only pisses me off, but it literally scares the hell out of me. so after talking to leo this morning, and with his encouragement, i called my doc.

i love my doc.

dr. k. agreed to see me at the end of the day, after all of his patients were gone. his nurse escorted me into an exam room, then sweetly asked, "so jodi, how's your anxiety?" and i started to cry. uncontrollably. my face completely awash in tears. she was speechless, and so was i.

my doc gets me. when i swear and rant and rage against this disease, he lets me. he validates every feeling i have and reminds me that i am not crazy. he also gently reminds me that although cognitively and intellectually i understand the chemical process affecting me, that does not mean i am immune to feeling what i am feeling.

last night, around 2:30, i awoke to such intense panic, i thought seriously about putting on my shoes and walking out the door. i had to get away...away from house...away from my mind...away from this body. the maddening thing about clinical depression is that you are literally stuck. there is no escape. there is no where to run to...no where to hide...you want to claw your way out of your own skin. but you can't.

my doc talked to me about my insistence on trying to control this thing...this thing that can be tamed but never fully controlled. we talked about my reticence in acknowledging this beast of a dog when he chooses to reappear.

"jodi, it's better to acknowledge the presence of the elephant in the room, than to continue to pretend it's not there. the pretending won't make it go away any faster". amen, doc k. last night wasn't just the appearance of an elephant...it was a fucking elephant stampede.

there is nothing lonelier or more desolate or move devastatingly hopeless than facing this disease in the middle of the night. why didn't i call anyone? i know that many of you reading this will ask me that question. bottom line: i don't want to bother you. you all have to get up and go to work. i also told dr. k. that i didn't want to call anyone at 3:00 am because that would be like admitting defeat...admitting that the dog had kicked my ass and won. he said it would mean just the opposite, that it would mean i was being proactive in getting better. i conceded him that point.

so hear i am, nervously facing the night. dr. k. gave me two homework assingments: first, i am not to fight with the dog; just realize that for right now, it's here and that it will eventually go away. secondly, i have to share my struggle with a friend. i spent the evening with my sister who knows, and now i've told all of you. so that part of my assignment is finished.

as far as not fighting with the dog goes ~ hmmm. i'm going to have to work really hard on that one...

we pay for not caring about those who are not properly nourished

pbs aired an amazing documentary on depression last night. (my post title is a quote by terrie williams, who is interviewed in the special. for more information, click on the documentary link; pbs has provided video clips and transcripts of the show on its site.)

those of you who know me, truly know me, understand that my personal experiences with and on-going treatment for clinical depression define my "calling". i am not extraordinary. i just tell my story, as i believe god wants me to, and pray that it connects with any other soul that may be suffering. because, none of us should ever have to suffer alone.

to me it's ironic, for a couple of reasons, that the pbs special aired this week. my first episode of depression happened in may 1989, a week before my college graduation. i didn't know what it was. i vividly remember driving home for the weekend, going up to my bedroom, kneeling on the right side of the bed, and literally knocking on the side of my head the way you do when you have water in your ears. my brain felt full. something was wrong. my mind was racing. i couldn't tell a soul, mainly because i had no idea what was happening. and if i couldn't adequately define it, i certainly couldn't get help for it. a few days later, it dissipated and was gone. i chalked it up to the stress of graduation, the uncertainty of my future, and being madly in love for the first time in my life.

after 8 more years of on-again and off-again silent suffering, i got help.

some of you know the story...after weeks of not sleeping or eating, yet not missing work or telling my husband, i paced my house. from one end to the other, stopping every now and then to peer at myself in the mirror, horrified. finally, i looked at my husband and said, "you need to take me to the hospital". he was clueless. i called adena, and told the e.r., "i'm losing it, i'm on my way, and you need to have somebody ready for me." thus began my recovery.

this week, a friend (whom i can't name for fear that the ever-present "depression-stigma" may affect her professionally) confided in me that she was suffering terribly. jane (not her real name) said that she remembered me explaining how i initially got help, and so, after suffering in silence for the past several months, she left work and drove herself straight to a hospital. also like me, she described how she didn't want to intentionally kill herself, but if she had been in a car accident on the way to the e.r, that would've been okay.

her family's responses to her diagnosis have been somewhat typical: "you need to lean more on god," "you're apparently not a good christian," and the good old-fashioned, "what have you got to be said about? shake it off. "

(*sigh*)

andrew solomon, author of the noonday demon, provides some of the most amazing dialogue on depression in the pbs special:

It's a poverty of the English language that we only have that one word, depression, that's used to describe how a little kid feels when it rains on the day of his baseball game, and it's also used to describe why people spend their lives in mental hospitals and end up killing themselves. But clinical depression really has to do with the feeling that you can't do anything, that everything is unbelievably difficult, that life is completely terrifying, and a feeling of this free-floating despair, which is overpowering and horrifying.

interestingly, i learned from the documentary that scientists have identified the positive biological effect that talk therapy produces in the brain. i mean, we all know that there is power in verbalizing our hurts and insecurities and fears with someone we feel safe with it. but there are also real, physiological benefits:

"New evidence shows that the act of talking, like medication, also produces changes in the brain, impacting a group of regions including the frontal area and the hippocampus, which is associated with learning and memory."

so talking is good. don't stay in the dark. no one has to suffer alone.

philip burguries, chairman and ceo of a fortune 100 company and vice-chairman of the houston texans, recounted his initial diagnosis and subsequent stay in a mental hospital by tearfully sharing the story of a woman he met while in treatment:

Safe in a hospital, he met another patient who encouraged him to speak out. She looked me right in the eye. And she said, "Philip, I'm not gonna make it. But you are." And then she said, "I want you to promise me something. When you make it, I want you to promise me that you'll tell your story, because you can help other people." Philip took his story public in Houston before a group of business leaders. This action inspired executives the world over to seek his advice about their own battles with depression.

we have the ability to nourish each other...to sustain one another with love and patience and understanding and education and grace and honesty and vulnerability...and perhaps most importantly, with availability.

jesus said, "go tell your story."

because no one should ever have to suffer alone.

the other side

for those of you who checked out heather's entry at the dooce...you may be interested in reading her husband jon's blog on living with a wife who has a mental illness. good stuff. you gotta love them both for their honesty and vulnerability.

please, please, please visit the dooce

even if you get tired of hearing me tell my story, you still MUST read this blog entry by heather armstrong over at the dooce. so many of you have shared your own experiences with depression, anxiety, ocd, addiction, and other mental illnesses with me. if you're still afraid of seeking help, or afraid of what others will think of you ~ you may find just the encouragement you need after reading heather's story.

on a lighter note, i loved this part of heather's entry...

I was recently at lunch with a few friends, one who had just been diagnosed with OCD that manifests itself in a need to straighten up everything around her, and I was all really? That's considered OCD? Because I thought that was just considered BEING ALIVE. And because she hasn't ever read this website she asked if I had ever been treated for a diagnosis abbreviated with capital letters. I looked across the table at my other friend, someone who is very familiar with what I have written here, and she almost gagged on an ice cube. I nodded and then explained that I'm in ongoing therapy for what's called C-R-A-Z-Y.

after reading that, i think perhaps i need to change my own blog label/tag from "depression" to "C-R-A-Z-Y".

'cause if we're all honest, we're all a little C-R-A-Z-Y at times, don't you think?

if you or someone you know...

...has read my blog entries on depression, please note: i have found some excellent new articles regarding the disease and have posted them in the sidebar (list of depression articles and resources.) one piece in particular, is an excellent source of information for men.

i was also reading today about joe pantoliano's depression organization, "no kidding, me too." joe was one of the stars of "the sopranos". his group's mission statement includes the following:

Our goal is to educate the public about the wonderful possibilities that exist when we break down the societal barriers which hold us all back because we treat those afflicted with mental illness differently – we label them and isolate them. What we passionately want to accomplish is to relieve the weight of millions of people who suffer this isolation.

There is an oft-quoted statistic that for every person who is diagnosed with mental illness, eleven loved ones are affected. The immediate short-term result is that the mentally ill person becomes isolated from the outside world because they are deemed unable to “handle” it. And isolation breeds isolation which creates the stigma and discrimination we need to eliminate. The brain is an organ – just like the heart, liver and kidneys – and we need to encourage everyone to treat it as such from both a medical and social perspective.

way to go, joe.

"I'm sure that if you knew, you'd try to help in one way or another." - Mike Wallace

"People who don't know, who say it's (depression) self-indulgence, sound callous, but it's not callousness born of indifference; I think it's callousness born of ignorance. That kind of ignorance we've got to get rid of, and little by little I suppose, we will. You say to them, 'It's a pity you don't know. I'm sure that if you knew, I'm sure that if you really knew, not only wouldn't you say that, you'd try to help in one way or another." - Mike Wallace, On the Edge of Darkness

about ten years ago, i found this quote on the internet. mike wallace had decided to become vulnerable and go public about his battle with depression. as a result, i immediately purchased "on the edge of darkness" from amazon. it's become my bible, of sorts.

a few days ago, leo shared with me that a notre dame acquaintance had committed suicide. only 29 years old with a successful career and a baby due in november, this gentleman chose to end his life. i've known my husband for over 15 years, and this is at least the third suicide that has impacted him since we've been together. last night, he admitted to me that he is "thrown" by all of this.

i didn't respond to his comment. (perhaps this is my response, instead?) the truth is, mike wallace's words hold true: "if you knew, if you really knew..." one can't understand until he knows, really knows what the disease is like. unfortunately, the only way to know it is to actually live it.

when i was first diagnosed with depression in 1997, leo was completely unaware that i had been living in hell. i hadn't slept in weeks, although i was lying beside him every night. i was hiding food or throwing it in the trash to make it appear that i was eating. i was still going to work every day, even though my mind was racing with destructive thoughts.

i never actually contemplated intentional suicide. i do remember, however, driving on 220 west in freezing cold temperatures, snow flurries brushing off the windshield, and thinking... "god, i don't think i could do it (suicide), but if you wanted to make my car slide off the side of the road and crash into that telephone pole, it would be okay. at least i could rest."

if you don't know, you don't understand.

suicide is not a pointless or random act. to people who think about ending their own lives, suicide represents an answer to an otherwise unsolvable problem. it is a choice that is somehow preferable to the continued emotional distress which the person fears more than death. those in a suicidal frame of mind have tunnel vision; there is no solution, no way out, no light at the end of the tunnel. they are inundated with an overwhelming sense of hopelessness about the future. they are convinced that absolutely nothing can be done to improve their lives.

can you imagine this kind of existence? how horrifying.

i didn't know the young man who died this past week. and i can't even begin to wrap myself around the pain that his family is going through. but i do have an inkling of the amount of distress that he must have endured to bring him to this point. and i feel so sorry for him.

there are those who would call me selfish in my feelings for this gentleman; how could i feel sorry for a man who has inflicted such torturous emotion upon his loved ones? please understand, in feeling sorry for him, i am not discounting the pain that has been innocently thrust upon his parents and wife. it's just that...

if you don't know, you don't understand.

so, what is the answer?

depression is still, what i call, "a bastard disease". it's the dirty little secret affecting every family that no one wants to talk about. instead, denial causes the disease to manifest itself in substance abuse and alcoholism, in divorce and mid-life crises, in reclusiveness and loss of relationship. so, we have to get it out of the closet.

we have to disconnect the disease from shame.

shame causes those who suffer to hide. shame causes those who suffer to self-medicate. shame causes those who suffer to take their own lives.

i'm one of the lucky ones. medication and therapy have worked for me, thank God. i have not lost friends or co-workers as a result of my honesty about my disease. God gave me enough courage to ask for help. it took a great amount of suffering in silence to bring me to my knees, but i thank Him every day for the gift of my treatment.

this is not to say that i have depression licked. this is not to say that i am not terrified at the thought that someday my disease will take a ravenous turn for the worse. that for some inexplicable reason, my meds will cease to work, and i will find myself in a hole so deep that there seems no way out. such thoughts occupy the deepest recesses of mind daily.

for now, i try to be both helpful and hopeful. and i earnestly pray, that someday, there will be a magical key that unlocks a cure for all who suffer. no individual should have to endure such hopelessness, and no family should have to endure such tragic loss.

dancing with the dog

those of you familiar with my blog, or even my life, know that i refer to my battle with depression as the "black dog". there are times when i feel that the dog and i have come to an understanding; i realize that when he is not with me, he is, in actuality, simply living in another room, waiting for his cue to come and join me.

for me, the key word in that last sentence is "cue".

depression is much easier to understand when it has been activated (or cued) by a particular event. when there appears to be no cue, and the dog comes running in anyways...well, that's when i tend to doubt my sanity. seriously.

the dog came to play a couple of weeks ago. for no good reason. he was ever-present for over a week, and then slowly started to retreat for increasing amounts of time, until he was no longer around.

i didn't tell anyone. not leo. not my dearest friends. no one.

my concentration was blown, my sleep was erratic, my mind was on over-drive, my anxiety was physically manifesting itself. so i doubled my meds, and i still kept the secret. (my acting skills are extremely good.)

why am i still hiding the dog from the people i love and trust?

maybe this public confesson of a private dance with the dog will help me the next time.

maybe next time, i'll ask one of you to join me in the dance.