Wednesday, May 23, 2012

what doesn't kill you makes you stronger...


What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, stronger
Just me, myself and I
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger
Stand a little taller
Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone


So where am I at? I finally got in to see the psych doc this week and it did not go well. As in she wanted to hospitalize me but since I have a strong support system she decided to try Cymbalta and send me home...last ditch effort. what I've read about cymbalta says its usually a last resort med because its so strong. I'm still on prozac just on 40mg instead of 80mg.

I'm not suicidal not at the very least. Do I want to hurt myself? Yes I am struggling with the urges to cut but I have no desire (I might say I'm too depressed to) kill myself

I know if the Cymbalta doesn't work that I will be going inpatient. I see the psych again next week as well as my therapist

I'm trying to keep that song in my head...what doesn't kill me will make me stronger though some days I'm not so sure its not going to kill me

  when I was released from the hospital back in march I thought I was through with the toughest time in my life. Apparently I was wrong. I was naive enough to think that I was set on meds, doing good and that would be it for awhile. I never imagined two months later I would be back where I was

I'm frustrated. I've cried my share, I've had days where I couldn't make myself get out of bed. I've had days where I bounce from one thing to another unable to concentrate and never finishing anything

I am hoping, praying cymbalta is my miracle drug.! Trying to stay positive but its really hard at times!!!!!

Sunday, May 20, 2012

when you're going through hell...keep on going

So heres my update. Not much different than my last one

In my therapy session I found out my diagnosis is still labeled as Major Depressive Disorder with  Generalized Anxiety Disorder and PTSD. But they are treating me like someone with bipolar and have used words like "mania". Really I think they don't want to label it for many reasons but as long as the meds and therapy are working!

which is another matter. ARE they working? It seemed like it and now I don't know. I can't get in to see the psych until July (so much for going back in 4 weeks like she wanted). But really things have been a downhill slide. I''m on Geodon, Seroquel, Lamictal, Prozac and Buspar with Xanax as needed. Enough to sedate a horse yet I can't stay still (therapist said thats a hallmark feature of depression..usually you either cant or wont get out of bed or you can't focus and can't sit still) or sleep. I take that back...I sleep pretty good at night but all day I'm bouncing from one task to another without finishing anything. will be calling the therapist tomorrow and begging her to atleast talk to the psych. I just don't want another hospital stay

I really think the therapy is working. Now Ive spent the better part of ten years in therapy...I thought I had learned everything there is but this therapist has new insight and some different ways of doing things that has helped. we've really clicked IMO and she's not afraid to push me!

Happier subjects...Abby is almost 5 months old and is approx 35 pounds. Not too big for a golden retriever. Her loves are playing fetch, chewing bones and digging holes (holes big enough for her to fall in!). She loves to stay in with me all day and go golf cart riding. She looks totally different than Ellie and acts totally different. She's calmer while Ellie was a free spirit

Sunday, May 13, 2012

things have got to get better.

They sa when you hit the bottom that things can only get better. Well Lord don't tell me I haven't bottom cause I don't how much I can take!

These last few months I have been at my lowest point EVER! I'm going to be perfectly honest and open and say that my doctor saved my life by hospitalizing me. Seriously

Things are getting better. its just a slow process. i have therapy every week or two and I should be havin a psych visit but since the doctor is so packed I'm on the waiting list

Its a slow slow process. I wish the medicine took all my problems away, I really do. I wish therapy was an instant success.

And truthfully maybe I have been dissapointed because those things arent true. I should know better having had 8 years of therapy prior to all this and having been on meds since I was a teenager. We can dream though right?

I have found a simple solution to my sleep problems...BENEDRYL! I take it, sleep like a baby and can get my butt out of bed in the morning. who would have thought something so simple?

In other news we made Great Strides yesterday and I walked a mile! It was the annual Myrtle Beach Great Strides for CF walk. Over $20,000 was raised total and 20 teams came out to walk. The CF community is awesome!

So that is where I'm at. Better but not all the way...I still have a long journey ahead of me!!

Friday, May 4, 2012

tales from the psych ward

So I know I've been asked questions and I know there are people curious...so here is bekah's tales from the psych ward

Now this is only my experience with one hospital. I was in one where its purely psych patients and not part of a bigger hospital like MUSC. The hospital I was at had 3 adult programs....adult dual diagnosis (patients not only struggling with mental illness but also drug abuse), Adult acute care (schizo, bipolar, suicide attempts pretty much anything goes there) and higher ground (so severely depressed they can't function but realize their need for help). I was higher ground....the only higher ground patient at that time and housed on the "short hall" aka adult acute care ward.

When you first get there you are "line of sight"...you can't be out of sight of a staff member even when sleeping. When you take a shower the bathroom door has to be part the way open. Pretty much no privacy. If you behave then after 24 hours you are removed from LOS and can go anywhere on the adult units by yourself but have to check on every 15 minutes. The adult units are all housed in one building seperated into "long hall" (dual diagnosis) and "short hall" (acute care). Higher grounds get put wherever there is a bed. I spent my first night on the dual diagnosis side. (actually everyone kept trying to send me to RTF...the kid/teen program cause I look so young). The buldings are locked units and you cannot get in or out without a staff member and their badge

I admit I only stayed off of line of sight for 48hrs my whole 8 day stay. I kept having freak outs and with a history of self injury they really watched me closely. In some ways thats not a bad thing...I got way more attention but I also had no privacy. Especially with the fact I had 3 roommates.

With the exception of one other girl everyone was 40+ on the short hall.

I admit there were times you would forget you were in a psych hospital...like at night when everyone was gathered in the group room watching TV and laughing and talking. One night we were WILD! Watching the voice and having paper airplane contests while standing and jumping on the furniture

You would be surprised how normal most of the people were. Just regular folks like me and you.

Like everywhere I had favorite staff members and the staff members have favorites.

You had your choice of wearing your own clothing (no shoe strings, belts, or drawstrings) or wearing a hideous outfit of green scrubs that they provide. I chose my own clothing! I might have been a pysch patient but darnit I was going to be a well dressed one! I even wore my beloved converse sans laces

Your days are made up of group therapy (numerous sessions through the day), recreational therapy (can be anything from playing uno to going outside to pet therapy), psych visits (everyone sees their psych everyday) and if needed individual therapy.

Unlike a regular hospital you are expected to get dressed, go through your morning routine, eat meals with the group in the cafeteria, socialize etc. You have a regular bed...not a hospital bed. You are allowed no electronics but can have books, coloring books etc. I think I colored more pictures there than I have in ages!

to be continued...

Thursday, May 3, 2012

From my journal

Was going through my old journals and decided to post some of my writing from it:

I'm not made to walk. I was made to fly. Made to be a beyootiful butterfly. To have all the colors of the rainbow in my wings. To soar. Struggling to break out of my coccoon. For my maker to glimpse me  as the new creation I am. I was not made to stay a caterpillar. Abba has made me a new creation
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This world is not my home. I was made for better things. I'm just passing through, visiting this old world. I'll never fit in because this was not meant to be my home. One day I will have wings and soar. My lungs will and my heart will beat without  help. Not only will I fly but I'll run too!
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I fall down
And its tempting
Not to get back up]
But then I hear
A whisper from God
Telling me the race
Isn't over yet
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Young woman sitting on a street corner. Head in her hands, tears streaming down her face, heart broken. Lots of people passed her by but noone acted like they saw her. Suddenly she felt someone standing behind her and she turned around to look. She gasped as she realized who it was. Jesus! You're Jesus, she stammered. Yes I am...I know you are too tired to go on so I came to help. Don't you know my burden is light. Come on I'll carry you

Next thing she knew she was on Jesus's back. Her dirty grimy self on his clean white robe. He just laughed and said it could be washed, She held on tight, arms around His neck with her eyes shut tight and a smile on her face. She thanked Him and He said....I love you and I am always with you. All you have to do is call my name and grab hold of me
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All alone or atleast thats how it feels
Broken hearted, scared to death
Then I realize I am never alone
Jesus is waiting to heal my heart
Waiting for me to come
cast my cares on Him
He reaches out His hand
And says come Beloved
So all those days I thought
That I was all alone
I wasn't. All those tears I cried
Jesus saw and counted
All those sleepless nights
He was there
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Who is that girl in the mirror? Where did the sparkle in her eyes go? That infectious smile is gone. Her eyes are flat with tears. The smile replaced with a frown. So much taken from her in one night. A few hours and one man changed her life forever. Sure she's alive but he might as well have killed her. He took her spirit, her light. Can she get them back?
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TO be continued!