Literally, things have gotten "insane." And because they have, it kind of makes me mad I have used that work so casually until now. "Crazy." "Insane." I kind of need those words now.
The overuse of those words in society has put me at a loss of words, cause it's more intense than the watered down versions.
I can't believe what has happened to me over the last 24 hours. I can't believe it.
One day I'm happy, fine, and I think the worst is behind me and I'm on the up. The next day I'm on the couch again, barely able to lift my arms. That's what happens when I get major depression. And I sit there and think, "What? No! I thought I was on the up!"
Since I went off the ADD drug, my life has been up and in the dumps, up and in the dumps, up and in the dumps, and one of the in the dump days was the day I finally allowed myself to go into the hospital for help.
I still need to write out my whole story.
But two night ago, it was like an out of body experience. An out of body, cause I felt the shell of my body was here, but my spirit, the soul of Candice, was somewhere floating in the sky. And not in a good way!
Where am I? Who is this person? I feel someone else has taken control of my mind.
I think one of the hardest things that happens during a depression episode, I'll call it, is that it's so easy to forget that I wasn't always like this. That this isn't the real me. That one day I will come back.
When I had postpartum depression, I really had a hard time grasping that life with depression wasn't my new life. I had forgotten that I had ever been anything different than depressed. And I needed constant help to have hope that one day the depression would be over. It was so hard to believe. Where did I go? I just want to be back!
My friend, Nina we'll say, always shared with me her story of postpartum depression. I called and relied on her, because one day in passing, just like with my other tender mercy friend, she had mentioned something about postpartum depression. Of course, at the time I needed it, I thought of her and called her way too often to ask for help and thoughts, and to basically tell me that I wasn't crazy.
She constantly reminded me that this would end and that this wasn't the real or new me. That I would be back.
So hard to realize when it's happening.
And now I am trying to tell myself, "This will end too…Just like with the postpartum, one day you will be looking back on this and not in it."
But after saying to myself so many times, "I think the worst is behind me." It is getting really hard.
The very, very worst happened two nights ago.
Everything was fine and happy, and two hours later, suicidal.
What?!!!???!!!
Being suicidal? Never. That is against all of my core beliefs and every ounce of who I am.
But there I was, two hours later, on a down again. But this time, the worst down ever.
"Tim would be better off without me…I am ruining everyone's life…I can't even take care of my kids…I don't offer any value to Tim anymore…Maybe he wants to leave me…"Do you want me to die?"…I could do this and just be done with life...
What!?!?!!!?!?!!!
I have never, and I mean, never thought I could EVER have those thoughts. I have never even come close to those thoughts. Not even close!
I value my life. I have a wonderful life. I am so blessed and I adore living! I LOVE life. What is happening to me?!! Where did I go?!!
I balled like a baby.
More than anything I was just confused! This is against everything in me! Where did I go? What is happening? Where is my Heavenly Father?
It is so hard to feel the Spirit when you're in a down spiral.
It felt like some sort of sub reality, but what's a better word? It felt crazy.
I woke up the next morning, suicidal still. Where did my real spirit go? Am I going bipolar?!! This can't be happening!
And there I was in a deep depression again. Hard to lift my arms. Tears streaming down my face without relenting.
I had a psychiatrist appointment in an hour. I drove to the appointment, but realized it wasn't really safe for me to be driving while someone else felt to be controlling my brain!
…
When I had postpartum depression, it was so very difficult for me. It was so hard to find purpose in it. It was so hard for me to understand spiritually why that would be a trial available to us in this life. If we came to earth to prove ourselves, that we would keep the commandments of God, how in the world were we suppose to be capable of keeping the commandments when our mental capacities were out of whack? I was so confused by the whole thing and just couldn't seem to get a handle on the answer. How am I suppose to be patient and long-suffering when my mind is so intensely anxious and my heart down in the dumps that all I can do is cry or yell? I couldn't understand it, and I just wanted an answer.
After that trial and as it came to a close, all I could come up with was, opposition.
My friend, Nina we'll say, always shared with me her story of postpartum depression. I called and relied on her, because one day in passing, just like with my other tender mercy friend, she had mentioned something about postpartum depression. Of course, at the time I needed it, I thought of her and called her way too often to ask for help and thoughts, and to basically tell me that I wasn't crazy.
She constantly reminded me that this would end and that this wasn't the real or new me. That I would be back.
So hard to realize when it's happening.
And now I am trying to tell myself, "This will end too…Just like with the postpartum, one day you will be looking back on this and not in it."
But after saying to myself so many times, "I think the worst is behind me." It is getting really hard.
The very, very worst happened two nights ago.
Everything was fine and happy, and two hours later, suicidal.
What?!!!???!!!
Being suicidal? Never. That is against all of my core beliefs and every ounce of who I am.
But there I was, two hours later, on a down again. But this time, the worst down ever.
"Tim would be better off without me…I am ruining everyone's life…I can't even take care of my kids…I don't offer any value to Tim anymore…Maybe he wants to leave me…"Do you want me to die?"…I could do this and just be done with life...
What!?!?!!!?!?!!!
I have never, and I mean, never thought I could EVER have those thoughts. I have never even come close to those thoughts. Not even close!
I value my life. I have a wonderful life. I am so blessed and I adore living! I LOVE life. What is happening to me?!! Where did I go?!!
I balled like a baby.
More than anything I was just confused! This is against everything in me! Where did I go? What is happening? Where is my Heavenly Father?
It is so hard to feel the Spirit when you're in a down spiral.
It felt like some sort of sub reality, but what's a better word? It felt crazy.
I woke up the next morning, suicidal still. Where did my real spirit go? Am I going bipolar?!! This can't be happening!
And there I was in a deep depression again. Hard to lift my arms. Tears streaming down my face without relenting.
I had a psychiatrist appointment in an hour. I drove to the appointment, but realized it wasn't really safe for me to be driving while someone else felt to be controlling my brain!
…
When I had postpartum depression, it was so very difficult for me. It was so hard to find purpose in it. It was so hard for me to understand spiritually why that would be a trial available to us in this life. If we came to earth to prove ourselves, that we would keep the commandments of God, how in the world were we suppose to be capable of keeping the commandments when our mental capacities were out of whack? I was so confused by the whole thing and just couldn't seem to get a handle on the answer. How am I suppose to be patient and long-suffering when my mind is so intensely anxious and my heart down in the dumps that all I can do is cry or yell? I couldn't understand it, and I just wanted an answer.
After that trial and as it came to a close, all I could come up with was, opposition.
2 Nephi 2:11
11 For it must needs be, that there is an opposition in all things. If not so, my first-born in the wilderness, righteousness could not be brought to pass, neither wickedness, neither holiness nor misery, neither good nor bad. Wherefore, all things must needs be a compound in one; where
Just like when I have been physically sick, I then finally realize how amazing it is that 90% of the time my body is functioning wonderfully. Just like I finally pray to ask for health when I am sick, but usually all of the other times would forget to thank my Father all the other days that I wasn't sick. Just like we don't realize what we have until it's gone, here I was with mental health issues. And here I am again.
Opposition.
How could I appreciate the brain and heart and soul Heavenly Father had given me, my mental health, without an opportunity to be without it? How could I have joy in feeling in control if I didn't know the difference?
Or maybe more powerfully, how could I ever have compassion for those with mental health struggles if I had never had a taste.
My postpartum depression made me grow in compassion much more quickly than I would have. Maybe five years worth in five months. And I was so grateful for that gift.
So what gifts will come because of this trial. What compassion will I gain. What joy will I have now when my mental health is again well knowing what it is like to not feel in control. And which hands that hang down will I be able to lift and tell them, "This too shall pass. One day you will be looking back."
Opposition in all things makes joy in mental health and all things, for the first time, possible.
Still, it's something I want to understand more about when I meet my Maker.
And I know His Son suffered all. Even this.
…
I got to the doctor's. I had also had a panic/anxiety attach in the middle of the night. My medication makes me shaky. I was shaking, my heart was pounding so hard it woke me up, then I broke into a sweat so powerful it soaked my underwear.
What is happening? Not only am I getting worse, but now I feel like my spirit is gone, my brain can't connect the dots, this has to be a sub reality cause I feel literally crazy.
When I met with the doctor, and told her my theory of this feeling of bipolar the last few weeks, I felt so good to get some sort of an answer.
Doesn't it feel amazing to get answers? Even one you just hope is an answer?
Perhaps the ADD meds messed with my neurotransmitters. And even though I went off it two weeks ago, I am still up and down and up and down because the neurotransmitters are trying to get inline again.
Of course I don't understand all the science, but I felt she was accurate and I had some sort of explanation.
And lots of comfort comes to me with a "sort of" explanation.
Of course I was sitting there just the saddest I have ever been. Down down low in the dumps and arriving suicidal. What? Is Candice Andrus really saying this?
The psych even recommended I go into the hospital again.
What?
"Do you want to go into the hospital again?"
"No."
"Well, if you can stay at home, and your family can hide the pills, and you can be watched, then you can have the hospital at your home."
Oh my. This can't be happening. Candice Andrus is just out of the psych unit and has now had suicidal thoughts. She's been recommended to go back in. And she's being told the family needs to hide the pills.
This can't be happening.
I don't even know how to explain this. My brain is in a fog. The medication is doing some sort of firework parade up there in my brain and trying to eventually come out with a positive result.
But the meantime while I wait for that result, what?
Confusion.
Things are dark.
When will I come back?
She gave me a mood stabilizer while the ADD med works its way out of my system and the cells repair themselves. And I'm continuing on the SSRI med.
I had my friend come get me at the doctor's so I would be safe getting home.
The hope is stability. And now by two doctors I've been told that this "bipolar" feeling will end.
Oh. Hope. Hope is so hard to have sometimes.
But I haven't lost it yet. I'm still hanging on for dear life.
...
[For those of you who are reading this journal entry, please don't worry about the thoughts I had. I recognized they were not rational and nothing that I would be feeling if I were healthy, and I got the help I needed I was at home and driving in a car. I hope to NEVER have thoughts like that again, and never had before. And when I did, it was a signal to me that I need to get professional help cause that isn't me, that's not Candice. And I've reached out for that help when that happens. xoxo…If you have had thoughts like that yourself, I encourage you to recognize them as irrational and a signal to you that you should seek immediate help and support. Immediately. I am not a doctor or a person of authority in this, I just know that help is available and no one should be having those thoughts. Life is always of value.]
