I haven't blogged since early october...A LOT has happened since then! I've had a suicide attempt which led to 3 1/2 hospital stay to get me stable and a 12 day psych hospital stay at MUSC. I just got discharged last wednesday after an 8 day stay at MUSC. I have to yet to unpack...I think subconsciously I think I'm going to admitted again when I go to my appointment next week

Let me just say if you've never had the pleasure of being in a psychiatric hospital you are missing a very interesting and vital experience lol. Really though I could write a book about it and not have to make up anything...just change a few names and voila.

I'm being seen at MUSC weekly as an outpatient now too and hopefully will get into a dbt (dialectal behaviour therapy) group which also meets once a week.

I actually have a diagnosis that makes since! Borderline personality disorder. The best description I have read of BPD is like...The difference is in the intensity of how they feel those emotions. Marsha Linehan, PhD, the founder of dialectical behavioral therapy (DBT), compares those with BPD to third-degree burn victims: “Lacking emotional skin, they feel agony at the slightest touch or movement.” What might just be a small slight for you might mean off-the-charts upset for your partner.

Anyway BPD is one of the most severe mental illnesses and used to be thought to be almost untreatable. Nowadays with intensive individual and group therapy particularly DBT and medications is it manageable and even possible for it to go into remission. But it takes a lot of hard work, commitment from the patient and patient's family etc. So now I will be getting the correct kind of therapy  etc which hopefully will help. In some ways I feel way more hopeful having this diagnosis but in other ways I feel like I can't do this! It was easier when depression or bipolar were being considered because they are all chemical in most cases so medication is the main treatment...with BPD therapy is the main treatment which means I have to put in a whole lot more work! Medications help control symptoms of BPD but do not treat the underlying cause.

Unfortunatly I have started cutting again and have done it a lot....I know better...I know better coping skills etc but cutting gives QUICK relief with very little effort so of course when I am overwhelmed with all these intense and painful feelings I want to cut. Its easy to list coping skills, to try other coping skills and relaxation exercises...especially during a hospital stay or therapy session but a whole lot harder at home when everything around you and inside you is crumbling and falling apart.

For right now I am trying to take it just a day at a time...sometimes its more like an hour at a time! I am very thankful for MUSC and their doctors...I'm a lot better off now than I was this time last year...I'm so thrilled to have a concrete diagnosis and some hope that things can get better! MUSC has also done wonders with my medicine and getting me on the right doses and right drugs and I actually feel like my psychiatrist cares about me.

scars

Its no secret that this last year has been hell for me. I can say that I have hit rock bottom and survived.

I survived but unfortunatly am left with the scars....physical and emotional and spiritually. My left wrist is very scarred from cutting (my upper arm has been for years....this last year is the first time I have ever cut my wrists). I don't know that they are so noticeable to anyone but me...but I know they are there and have to look at them every day

I will be perfectly honest that there were times that I found myself sitting on the floor with bottles of pills trying to work up the nerve to take them all. Right before my hospitalization I went to cut my wrists in an attempt to kill myself and chickened out cutting just enough to bleed.

As for the emotional scars. I have been through hell. I have seen and experienced things that noone should have to experience! What I've shared about my journey over the last year is just a tiny part of what has happened. I thought being raped was the worst thing that could ever happen...and it still is but some  of my experiences rival it.  I also have to live with what this year has done to my family. Its not just me that has suffered...my whole family...parents, grandparents, brother and SIL...they have all suffered with me...watching my pain and being totally unable to help. I can't imagine my parents pain.

As for spiritual pain....I believe in God and Jesus and always will but I admit this last year has brought up some doubts and questions. My views have drastically changed on a lot of things. Sometimes I wonder if God can love someone like me....I look at my scarred wrists and wonder if He can still love me or I am unloveable. I don't feel "good enough" to be a Christian. Then I wonder WHY. WHY me? Depression, CF, rape, PTSD, going through hell this last year. Why me? One of those things would have been plenty. I always come back to the big God question...Why is there such suffering in this world...if God loves us then when why does He sit back and watch all this crap happen to us? Why doesn't He stop it? I'm probably not putting all this into words very well. Its not that I think I don't deserve this but other people do...I don't think anyone deserves to suffer. I just wonder. My parents watch me suffer and wish they do something, ANYTHING to stop the pain. Well God must feel the same...except He CAN do something about it and doesn't. Thats what I struggle with. What good has this last year accomplished? Nothing that I can see. I don't see how God can work...rape, depression, a fatal illness and a nervous breakdown for good. Was He watching during the rape or did He turn His head from me? So I guess my issue is with Him being all knowing and Him having plans for us. THese are the plans He has for me? Which then leads me to think that maybe I am not good enough and thats why these things happen to me. Where was He during my 8 days of psychiatric hospitalization? So yes all this has shaken my faith. Nothing will ever make me not believe in God or Jesus...its just questioning His goodness, His plans and His allknowingness

I am not the person I was a year ago..for better or worse. I'm more jaded and cynical. More suspicious of people. I'm a lot more lonely...people drop you like flies when they find out you're "crazy". Seriously this last year has been THE loneliest time of my life. Things are turning around and I can say that yes I am happy and enjoying life. I have not cut in 3 months. I no longer think about it or about suicide. I live in fear of going through another season of life like that. I know I will battle these demons probably for the rest of my life. It terrifies me to think of being that depressed again. I was told the month before and after the anniversary of something like the rape is the worst. Hopefully this year it won't be like last year. Which that was one of many things going on last year

Life lately...

First off...happy 9 months to my sweet puppy abby! I don't know what I would have done without her! Its hard to believe its been almost a year since we lost ellie and I never thought I could love another dog like I loved her...abby has proven me wrong!

Second....I thought the time would never come when I could say this but I am really, truly HAPPY! 6, 7, 8 months ago I would have never thought it was possible to feel this good and I never ever thought I would be happy again! I'm laughing and joking and enjoying life. I've learned life is never perfect and lots of times not easy but thats normal. Noone is happy 24/7 and its okay to be sad sometimes

6 months ago I was on: cymbalta, prozac, seroquel, geodon, lamictal, buspar, xanax and ambien. Now I am on: Prozac, Wellbutrin and Seroquel. I sleep all night and am alert and not zombie like during the day.

I am starting to see that my "breakdown" in march had several factors. I believe losing Ellie started it all. My physical health wasn't good and I was on steroids long term which did not help. My dad was really sick and noone could figure out why. Add a new puppy to the mix and no sleep plus the anniversary of the rape...and it was a recipe for disaster.

WHen we got abby our yard was not fenced in like it is now. She was a wild puppy that didn't like to sleep. When we got Ellie my mom was still just working part time and able to help a lot. Not so with abby. I would say I really didn't bond with abby until I got back from my stay at the light house. By then our yard was fenced in which meant I didn't have to watch her every second and meant if she woke up at 4am then I could just put her out the back door

I'm learning to accept the things that I cannot change. I cannot change that I was born with CF and am dealing with a progressive and ultimately fatal illness....I can however change my outlook and my determination to live life to the fullest. I can't change that I was raped....I can however change from being a victim to a survivor...to someone who is thriving. I cannot change that thanks to CF my life will never be "normal" and that I may never be able to do the things other people my age do (work, have kids etc) but I can make the most of my life and embrace what I CAN do! I cannot change that I have depression but I can take my medication diligently and do everything possible to make it less likely that I will ever go through something like that again

I hope and pray that I NEVER EVER go through a time in my life like I did back in March! Now that I am on the otherside of it I do wonder how I survived. It really is a miracle I am still here

Lately I have spent my life swimming, enjoying my family, spending time with family and friends, loving on my Abby and taking care of myself physically and emotionally. Today for instance...went to the beach with my uncle and his wife, came home and went to the pool, came home and took a nap and went back to the pool with my mom. Had pizza and watched NCIS..."girls night" with my mom.  Six months ago...getting out of bed was a chore! I still have physical limitations..I always will and as my CF progresses I will have more... but I'm learning to work around them and learning when to push myself and when not to. Like last week I was really sick so I spent most of the week in bed and doing treatments instead of pushing myself. As a result I got better a lot faster

from my journal....

So afraid this mask I wear
Can be seen through
Don't want people to know
How vulnerable I am
Not so tough
I'm scared to death
..................................................

Do not worry
For God is there
Through the darkest night
And hardest fight
God is there
....................................................

The waves wash over the sand
As your forgiveness washes over me
The ocean water comes over me and cleanses
As you overshadow and cleanse me
Oh Lord how I love you
I will bow down to you forever
For I am your beloved
And you are my saviour
.....................................................

Nebulizers, vests, machines oh my
How my life depends on you
Enzymes, antibiotics and zantac too
I swallow you day in and day out
This my ode to you

......................................................

The world says I'm nothing
God says I'm everything
The world says I'm crazy
God says He made me
and He doesn't make mistakes
The world tells me what is impossible
God tells me what is possible
The world says I will never
Amount to anything
God says He has plans for me
The world says I am weak
God gives me strength
The world knocks me down
God picks me back up

I'm a butterfly

Right now I feel closer to a butterfly than ever

Keep in mind when its time to break out of the cocoon the butterfly must do it alone. It anyone or anything attempts to help it...well the butterfly will never fly and most likely die because its breaking out the cocoon that strengthens the butterfly's wings and allows it to fly. It has to struggle on its own. Noone else can break that butterfly out of its cocoon.

I'm in a similar place right now. It comes down to me. No matter how much it pains my family they can't do this for me...I have to do it alone with God. My therapist can give me advice until she's blue in the face but its up to me to apply it to my life. I'm on a journey that only I can walk

If I want to be able to fly then I have to do this. I have to do things that are uncomfortable. My loved ones have to watch me struggle and do nothing but cheer me on. I have to take those steps so that one day my wings will be strong and I can fly.

Right now I feel like I'm trying to break out my cocoon. I have no idea how long it will take. Did you know some butterflies stay in their cocoon merely weeks while some spend whole seasons in one? I don't know how long it will take me to break out and I can only pray that when I do my wings are ready to fly

Its a hard thing. I feel like a caterpillar. Like I'm crawling along and its so hard to imagine myself as a buttefly...no longer crawling but flying!  Sometimes this cocoon feels like its suffocating me

I want easy and fast answers and thats not the way this works. Sure easy and fast might help now but it would cripple me later...I wouldn't be able to fly because there would be no struggle. So here I am on a long and lonely road. Everytime I think I'm not going to make it, I think about the butterfly and about how its struggle is what makes it strong enough to fly. That it a powerful metaphor for my life right now.

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!!!!!

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

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!!

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...

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
.................................................................................................................................................................

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!
.................................................................................................................................................................

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
..................................................................................................................................................................

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
....................................................................................................................................................................

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
...................................................................................................................................................................

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?
....................................................................................................................................................................

TO be continued!

Poetry

Here are some poems...recent and from a ways back

Lifeless eyes
Haunting memories
Hurting Heart
Thats all thats left
But lord I give you
These pieces
I know you can make
me whole again
Hold me tight
lord take these broken pieces
causes thats all I have left to give

Hold on tight
sometimes thats all
we can do
hold on tight
when everything
is shattering
when the pieces
don't fall into place
and 2+2 doesnt =4
Hold tight
never let go
of the hand
who holds
the world

Darkness comes
she no longer sees in color
her world is dark
shadows loom in her mind
ghosts of the past haunt
memories of yesterday
hold her prisoner

Scaredy cat
looks too much
before she leaps
Sometimes daring
not to leap at all
She's too cautious
too unsure of herself
too afraid to try
She wishes she could
just jump right in
no worrying about the ifs

Mirror Mirror on the wall she sighs
Will I ever be pretty enough she cries
Or good enough for this cruel world
Mirror Mirror on the wall she cries
Help the world to see the real me
The one locked down below the surface
Cause I'm more than what they see

and life goes on

Maybe I was naive. Maybe I was just plain stupid or maybe I was just kidding myself I imagined after this hospitalization that I would come home perfectly controlled on meds and that my life would get right back to normal.

I didn't know it was to be a struggle of finding the right doseages, a neverending cycle of appointments with a psychiatrist, therapist and rape recovery counselor. I didn't know it was going to be a hard adjustment coming from a structured hospital setting to a self admitted unstructured family life. I didn't know I wasn't going to be as good as new. Nope that was just the start of this journey

 Tuesday I turn 27 and this is the first year I have not been excited over my birthday. Yes I like my two pairs of converse, lounge chair and two DSi games (and yes that was really my wish list). Yes I will eat cake (yes I will get excited over cake :-). But am I excited? No. I just cannot work up much enthusiasm over

There are three times in my life that I would say have been the hardest ever. 1) the rape, 2) being diagnosed with cystic fibrosis and hearing the words "fatal" 3) these last few months.

We got more bad news a few weeks ago. I had a severe asthma attack and had to have a steroid shot and was put on prednisone. Had what the psych called a severe manic episode on them and we are having to search high and low for an alternative. My lungs need them but my brain can't handle them putting us in a very hard place. Just what I needed

I guess like it or not Life goes on I do know God must have some awesome plans for my life as many times as I've come close to not only dying but to taking my own life. I take no credit for still being here...its all God!

 I know this post is brutally honest and maybe theres a reason for that. I think a lot people thought like I did. That this hospital stay "cured" me or that I came home a new person. I wish, I really wish but alas that was just the start of the journey For now I am seeing psychiatrist every 4 weeks, rape counselor and therapist once a week. Lots of appointments for lungs too to see what plan we can come up with that does not involve steroids. We're also working on making my days more structured and consistent

Life goes on....

one big leap for bekah

Today I took a very big step

I saw a counselor at the family justice center here (think rape crisis center but with more long term counseling). It went very well and I really liked her. This is huge because I have put off professional help since the rape but with recent events I think this is something I need to face and finally deal with and move forward from. No more victim for me

Friday I meet my counselor at the mental health center so we will see how that goes. I've already met m psychiatrist there and loved her. Now have to meet counselor and caseworker.

So slowly but surely things are happening for me. Little steps at a time but nonetheless steps forward

My new passion

Raising awareness for cystic fibrosis is one of my top passions in addition to raising funds for research. My new passion is raising awareness for mental illness

I read a quote that really applies to this: True character is how you treat those who can do nothing for you

I challenge everyone, especially nurses and those in health care professions to remember that every person with depression,bipolar,schizophrenia etc is someones loved one...someones daughter, son, sister, brother, mother, father, or grandchild. That person is loved and valued by someone. Every patient experiencing a psychotic episode has someone who cares about them. How would you want them treated if it was your loved one? Or if it was yourself? You would compassion, respect and most of all people to keep you safe...not to make it worse

Everyone deserves to be treated with respect and be kept safe whether they suffer from any illness or are perfectly healthy

People with mental illness are first and foremost PEOPLE! And deserve to be treated as such. Most people with mental illness have high IQs and are very intelligent and creative people....those seem to be common traits among those who suffer depression, bipolar etc. So mental illness does not equal dymb. It also does not equal crazy. I like to say there is mental illness and then there is just plain crazy...one can be treated and one can't! But no matter what a person is a person no matter how small!

it really is an illness....

Being home hasn't been all sunshine and roses. The adjustment from an extremely controlled enviroment where I was literally NEVER alone and was watched 24/7 for most of the days I was there to home where though I have a tight knit family noone can be with me 24/7. The enviroment is not controlled...there are pill bottles, knives, razors and assorted sharp objects. I'm in charge of my medication...noone is there to make me take it or remind me to take it

I was also with people who were like me and people who understood people like me. I've been blessed with a wonderfully supportive family and friends but there are always people who don't get it.

Depression is an illness! Serotonin is as real as insulin and I don't see anyone denying that diabetes is an illness! Yes there are non medicine ways to treat depression just like diet can treat diabetes or airway clearance can help CF but anyone with true depression is going to need meds too

Its taken me a long time to come to terms with the fact that I am not a freak, a loser, weak, not Christian enough etc. Yes I've heard all those things at one time or another. I am sick. Just like CF makes me sick, depression makes me sick. If my serotonin levels were anywhere near normal I would be dead from serotonin overload syndrome from all the meds I'm on...thats proof enough for me that it is a chemical imbalance.

Yes other factors play in and can worsen depression but at its core its a chemical imbalance.

And a lot of people don't get that. I'm not weak, I'm not a bad Christian, I'm not a freak. I am sick. I can't help it. I can try my hardest to make improvements, work hard in therapy but nothing can cure the imbalance of chemicals.

I've become an outspoken voice for depression and other mental illness because I hate to see others go without treatment due to lack of support or the stigma associated with it. I am very outspoken about my battles, mostly in hopes that other people will see they aren't alone and that maybe just maybe I will inspire one person to get the help they need

depression is a beast...

I've been through a lot with my lungs. I've struggled to breathe, gasped for air, coughed until I puked and have been at times unable to walk to the bathroom without becoming extremely short of breath. I've spent hours hooked to a nebulizer and vest machine. I've been hooked to oxygen..

All that to say that I would take cystic fibrosis over depression any day of the week

The suffocating feeling that everyone around you would be better off without you. Being in so much pain inside that hurting yourself is the only thing that relieves it. Wanting to die so that you aren't trapped in your mind. And then I see how I upset my family and feel 1000x worse and add guilt to the list of my emotions

I've suffered from depression since my teen years. Anxiety too. I started cutting when I was barely a teenager. I started my first anti-depressant...Paxil...at age 18. I've taken Paxil, Prozac, Zoloft, Effexor, Wellbutrin, celexa, lexapro etc. Unfortunatly my depression is extremely hard to treat and the only SSRI that I even marginally respond to is prozac..I'm maxed out on it at 80mg

If you've never suffered from depression...then thank God! It truly is one of the worst things I have dealt with. Making it even worse is there is so little help out there outpatient wise for mental illnesses. Things like art therapy, recreational therapy and pet therapy exist only in hospitals. Outpatient the most offered is medication management and talk therapy.

Noone will come out and say it but I'm being treated like someone with bipolar depression...noone will diagnose me as such officially but its been mentioned

Sometimes I feel like I'm drowning...I feel like I have cement blocks strapped on me and just can't surface. I fight and fight but can't come back up for air. Thats what depression feels like to me

Its hard to ask for help. Really hard. Sometimes it seems easier to kill yourself than ask for help.

My new combo of meds is working though and I am feeling the best I have felt in probably a year. I'm enjoying life, I'm laughing, I don't have thoughts of wanting to die or hurt myself. I'm actually happy for once that I am alive! This to me is a miracle!

home sweet home!

Its not secret to those of you who are friends with me on facebook that I just spent 8 days inpatient for depression treatment.

It started with a doctor's visit. Let me just say I knew going to that doctor's appointment what was going to happen. I seriously wanted to die, wanted to hurt myself. I knew I needed to be somewhere where I could watched 24/7. Anyway my doctor sent me across the street to the WCH ER where I stayed for 14 hours. It took that long for the pysch eval and placement. I was placed at a facility called the lighthouse

I have nothing but good things to say about that facility and the staff! My doctor and therapist were awesome, the mental health techs, nurses and recreational therapist were awesome too.

When you get there you are placed on "LOS" (line of sight) for 24hrs. lin of sight means you have to be in the sight of a staff member at all times I got off of it saturday and ended up back on it saturday night-thursday. Yes I had some freak outs but I really learned how to calm myself down. I learned lots of coping skills and about expressing myself in healthy ways. I made lots of friends and by the time I left all the staff knew me by name and everyone hugged me goodbye

I really needed that. I needed the structure, I needed the intensive therapy and being around others like me.

I'm on seroquel, geodon, prozac, lamictal, buspar, doxepin and ambien ( seroquel, ambien and doxepin for sleep, geodon for the urges to hurt myself, lamictal for mood swings, buspar for anxiety, prozac for depression). Its aall really helping. I feel better than I have in months!

I have follow up appointments here in town tuesday. My diagnosis is still major depression (treatment resistant) but I'm on all the meds that someone biplar would be on

I was dreading being inpatient but really it was not bad. It was hard but I knew I needed to be there. I think it was harder on my parents than on me! Last saturday night was hard on all of us when they came for visitation and then left without me. They weren't there when I was transported from the ER to the lighthouse so that was the first time they had seen me since the ER

I think the longest part of the whole ordeal was the 14hrs in the ER!

3 years....

March 14th will be 3 years since the rape. So I figured I'd do a where I've been and where I'm going 3 year post. Cause right now I'm just feeling uncreative

3 years. Its a long time! Unfortunatly sometimes it seems just like yesterday. This time every year I start having major issues. I start having thoughts of hurting myself...which thanks to lots of therapy I have the self control not to do and better coping skills. However it manifests in other ways...not sleeping, being irritable, eating too much or too little, not wanting to get out of bed, crying all the time, anger issues, not wanting to go crowded places, anxiety and panic attacks, not wanting to be alone. Yep that describes me right now. Thanks to some med changes, the wonders of xanax and ambien things are a little better. *note to self NEVER take lunesta again!*

Of course God always comes through and He has blessed with a now 15 pound, 9 week old Abby :-) So I have to get out of bed (see how sneaky God can be?) and outside and have to be active. She's given me something to hold on to and something to wake up to each morning

3 years is not long enough in my opinion. Not long enough to heal, especially not long enough to forget (which I don't think you ever do). But looking back I can see some positive changes. I have stayed by myself at night. I have become more comfortable when I am out in public no longer reduced to sitting on the bench in walmart in tears on the phone with my mom (just a few weeks after the rape). I no longer live in fear of the guy who did it. I refuse to give control to him

I've proved myself to be stronger than I ever thought I could be. I think most of that strength comes from faith and hope. I've proved myself to be a fighter. I've proved myself not to be a quitter.

Will I ever totally get over it? Who knows. Will I ever totally get off of meds and be able to live a depression/anxiety/PTSD life? I don't know. If not I'll make the best of what I have.

What I have found is the healing journey is not a straight road. There are curves, wrong turns, dead ends and misread signs. Sometimes its 2 steps forward, 3 back. Sometimes its the reverse. But its not a straight road. I have also found everything worth it in this life requires effort! I get nowhere by not trying. I'd rather fail and end up 3 steps back than to never try

tough times...

I keep telling myself to just keep swimming. things have to get better sooner or later right?

Its been a really tough time lately. At first I figured it was stress as my dad has been having major health issues and we just added a new puppy to the family (who doesn't like to sleep!)

But then I started having THOSE thoughts. The thoughts of hurting myself. I knew then it was time to seek help so I went to the doctor to get my meds adjusted and to get something to help me sleep.

March 14th will be 3 years since the rape. I know thats not helping things. Infact its probably the cause of 75% of my problems.

I've started not sleeping again. Nightmares abound. Tried ambien and now lunesta. Did finally sleep with the lunesta. I won't even list all the drugs its taking to keep me just doing ok

I know if (when) I make it through the next few weeks things will drastically improve (hopefully).

So no right now I'm not okay. Its a day to day...sometimes hour to hour or minute to minute thing.

I will say thanks to my wonderful therapist and all those years of therapy that I do have the self control and coping skills to not give into the thoughts of hurting myself

So thats why I haven't blogged lately. I'm still alive...but its taking everything I have to keep going

I keep telling myself I cant control what happened to me but I can decide to fight and not let it ruin my life. I believe that is the greatest revenge of all!

Coulda, Woulda, Shouldas

Okay so most of you know I am an NCIS NUT! Last night has provoked many thoughts for me

The premise was sort of life the 5 people you meet in heaven. Gibbs was shown what would have happened if he had made different choices at different points in his life and how it would have affected others (eg his wife and daughter were killed by drug dealers while he was overseas as a marine...he was shown if his wife hadn't testified and they hadn't been killed and thus he would have still been a marine and not an NCIS agent that his wife would have been widow) You really had to see it

We make so many choices in our lives and a ot of times we don't know the power of those choices.

What if my parents had married someone other than eachother and thus I wouldn't have been born with CF (or at all technically)? What if I had gotten up early that morning Ellie got hit and could have prevented her from getting out? What if I had never crossed paths with my rapist? What if?

Every single choice, every decision, every coincedence makes us who we are. I've never been healthy so I can't imagine what it would be like to NOT have CF. While I wish I didn't have CF, I am proud to be a member of a wonderful community who support and rally around their own. One in 2500 newborns is born with CF...so the odds were more in favor that I would not be born with it. Say hello to the 25% chance

If I had gotten up with Ellie that morning there is no telling if I could have stopped her. Maybe, Maybe not. But I believe every creature on this earth has a set number of heartbeats and breaths...God knows how long each of us will live and I can only say Ellie's purpose on earth was done. And this new adventure with Abby wouldn't be happening

Cystic Fibrosis has made me tough, it has made me learn to fight with everything I have and I see how precious each breath, each moment is. Every sunrise and sunset, every buttefly and every flower

Do I wish I could go back in time and make a different choice where I didn't cross paths with my rapist? I've wished that almost everyday for almost 3 years. If I could change that, I would. But its made me who I am today.. I am not who I was 3 years ago. God uses even the bad to work good in our lives and I fully believe the good in the rape is that I get the chance to speak out and help other women. I will not stay silent

Its not the couldas,wouldas and shouldas that we should let shape us because we answer what might have happened IF. we have to concentrate on what has happened. We can't change the past but we can work to make the future better