'No Vacancy' for the Clouds of Depression

The clouds of depression visited today. They are heavy and filled with doubts and fear. I met them from a familiar position. Supine in the bed. I gave in to fear (and all it's associates) and hid under the covers. Truth is, that familiar stance doesn't really help. What finally helped is getting out of bed and celebrating day one of a beautiful Hindu goddess festival, Navaratri. I had to get dressed and eat something before I could begin the worship. This was a good start. I even cooked! Kirah commented that it had been a while since I cooked anything. Yup, that is correct. It wasn't fancy but it sure made the house smell nice. Then I put on pretty clothes and went to our little shrine for worship. Too much of a headache was there to read the prayers. Instead I stretched my muscles that are beginning to feel full of little dead lymies (the image just doesn't do the feeling justice -- trust me). It was nice to be out of the depressive bedroom cave and in a cheerful place. After dinner I forced myself to listen to a class online that is inspiring. Okay, I think the clouds are finally drying up. That is good.

Why write about this? Not sure. I think what I am to learn from this day is be alert for these clouds of depression. I must remember what they look like and recall that retreating to the cave for the day with the computer on the lap doesn't really help. For whatever reason I have always pushed away that which is helpful to instead make the situation worse. I don't have to do that anymore. It's okay to do what is helpful. Sometimes it may take a little while to remember as old patterns take time to break. I can do this. I know it. I must do this.

Being in the midst of treatment for Lyme disease is a perfect breeding ground for depression. Letting in the depression, the fears and the anxiety seems easy. Unfortunately with the easy entry comes collateral damage -- more assault on the immune system. My immune system has to be on top of it's game in order to battle the lymies. I found out today that my basement is filled with mold. This was the catalyst for the day of depression. As I often tell my daughter, I have to stick to the facts. The basement got moldy. We have to clean it up. I am deathly allergic to mold which could be making my health worse. Oh well. Terry will do what he can to fix it. I can support him with love and kindness. My body fighting against mold while fighting the lymies is difficult. I don't need to add fear, anxiety and depression onto that. There isn't any room at the inn for these fellows.

I have to remember that. There is no room at the inn for anything that isn't helpful. Okay. That's seems easy enough. Hang the 'no vacancy' sign. I can say to the depression clouds, "We are full right now. I can put you on the waiting list, but it is unlikely you will get in." Excellent.

Crossing the Bridge

My inspiring co-worker wrote these words to me today that I find to be filled with meaning. "You have to cross the bridge alone, but you are surrounded." I can see this image so clearly. What is amazing to me is how fuzzy the characters are that are surrounding me. They are there, but almost invisibly. That feels terrifying. There is this pressure to somehow have someone take away the pain, fear and anxiety that come from this stupid, stinkin' neurotoxin being released in my body. And if I they can't take it away, then surely they can understand. There must be something I can say to make them understand.....

But I don't think they can understand. I don't understand. My husband just said, "communication with you is difficult right now." I agree. I can't seem to communicate with this body/mind that feels like it is on it's own crazy journey. It brings up every insecurity and fear I have.

All these fears and insecurities used to have me running for the hills. I can't run anymore even if I tried. Instead I am crossing this bridge, alone and surrounded. I know there is so much support there. I have to remember that. I just don't wanna do this. That's okay too. I don't wanna feel so f-ing sick. That's okay too. I wanna be able to think and talk with some degree of sanity. That's okay too. But, if I get lost I will remember that I am not alone.

When I feel like no one understands me I have to remember that everyone has crossed "their bridge" in one way or another. We all have our intense challenges in life. Some are more private and some more open, but they are there. Somehow we make it.

I will cross this bridge even when I feel alone. It is not as scary as it seems. Why is it not as scary as it seems? Because really the whole universe is there with me, in me. I walk in my glory. I am surrounded.


 

Getting Rid of Lyme - a link to another blog with good answers to more FAQ's

I just came across this interesting blog that explains the essence of Lyme Disease treatment. It includes the often asked questions about the why the controversy, different kinds of treatment, why people respond differently to the disease and the treatment, and why detoxing from the dead bacteria is as bad as the disease itself.

This author explained everything quite well. If you have time I suggest taking a peak. If you read what he says it will saves me time in explaining. Thanks!

http://www.lymediseaseblog.com/getting-rid-of-lyme/

Knockin' Knees

This fear business is very interesting. I have been noticing waxing and waning fear for some time now. I seem to be riding the wave and just noticing it. I realized that was my covert way of hoping it would go away instead of accepting it is there. I want to be tough and strong and positive and all that jazz.

The truth is though, I'm knee-knockin' scared. It's time to start the Lyme Disease meds again. Before my hiatus due to a neurotoxic reaction there was mild fear, but mainly anticipation about finally getting started on this "operation kill the little bastards." Now it is different. The memories of how sick I can get are very present. The feelings of being completely out of control of my body, mind and emotions are at the surface.

I can go through all the positive thinking mumbo jumbo and know that this is what is right and I will be fine. I am loved and supported. I have learned so much from the treatment so far and I will listen to my body more closely now. I will not push when it says stop. I will rest as best I can and keep my stress down. I know all these things yet the knees are still a knockin.'

It is impossible to explain to anyone how awful it feels to have massive amounts of neurotoxin released in your body at varying amounts throughout the day and night. It is impossible to explain how it feels to not be able to function as you are accustomed to doing. It's just impossible to explain how it feels to take medicine to get better that makes you sick.

I am strong. I will be well. I am surrounding myself and these medications in a ball of light. And my knees still knock. I'm scared and that's okay.

Variability, Accepting help and Empowerment

I was just thinking about a few different topics and feel the need to sort this all out through writing. If I am a little disjointed in my thinking you will just need to hang in there.

First topic -- variability. When someone is sick the common phrases are often, "Get well soon" and "I hope you are feeling better" or "You look good today." I must admit I am guilty of these over-used sentences as well. When we utter these words our intentions are good. We generally care about the person and want them to feel better. We also feel helpless and without any words to express how we feel. I must say that being on the other end of these words sheds some interesting light on what it feels like to being a receiver.

I think these phrases are appropriate if you have a cold or the flu, but in chronic illness or when in treatment for an illness they take on different meaning. I finally realized why tonight. Variability. Typically recovery from a virus has a curve that starts out really sick and gets progressively better. Treatment of a illness, like Lyme Disease for example, doesn't follow that kind of pattern. Really it follows no pattern (I will attempt to not rant about that). If I am constrained to describe a pattern I think the only word that fits is variable. It is up and down. Sometimes you are sick for hours, days or weeks. Then there is a reprieve for some unknown amount of time, and then it worsens again for some unknown amount of time. Sometimes this is because of the little lymies dying due to medication, sometimes because of massage or exercise or a sauna, sometimes because of the immune system waking up to fight a bit and sometimes there is just no discernible reason.

As I move through this treatment I realize how hard this is to accept. I want predictability. I want to be on a curve of "getting better soon." I will get better. I am on the right path. But I don't know when"soon" will be or what it will look like. And for now it seems to bounce between different levels of survival. Some days doing okay and others barely hanging on. It seems like those that are around me much seem to understand this now. I can't imagine how hard it is for them and I really appreciate their support. That brings us to the next topic....accepting help.

This accepting help business has never been my strength. I have always been the caregiver in one way or another. When my co-workers and friends kept offering to help and my family reminded me of much I needed it, I finally accepted. I think some of this accepting help had a catch for me. As long as I vowed to "give back" and help others in this way then it seemed okay. Twice this weekend, two beautiful women that have been offering help, reminded me that I have given for a very long time. Now is just the time to receive. There is no need to look ahead or feel guilty. Uh-oh. Leaving my comfort zone.

Wow -- this seems like such a new concept for me. And it also shines light on my not-so-pleasant image of myself which has never exactly matched how others see me. Being present and just accepting help without feeling guilty or making lists on how I can return the help in the future feels like swallowing a pumpkin. Yet, for some reason, people are coming out of the woodwork to help me without me even asking. Once I got clear on what would be helpful it just started to happen and now it is like a roller coaster picking up speed. For me though it brings up the very deepest of my core issues -- feeling worthy enough or deserving enough to be helped. Whoa. Thanks everyone for ripping the band aid off of that one. I may say that sarcastically but really I mean it. Thank you. Thank you for helping me and thank your for making me see that I am worthy of being helped. Long may I remember this.

One more thought just popped into my head that just must be written so it doesn't get misplaced in my Swiss cheese brain. Today I mentioned to someone that I feel like I have no certainty in my life. I can't count on my body, my mind, my ability to work or make money, my ability to parent or be a wife or a daughter or a friend. I described feeling as if I was walking naked through a field --- just me and the sky -- and how scary this was. A very wise woman reminded me today of how to alter this sentence. It is just me in space, in all my glory. Hmmm. That is quite a difference. Suddenly I felt empowered and alive. Me in all my glory, in charge but not needing to control that which cannot be controlled or need not be controlled. Hmmm. Lots to contemplate.

Not an easy weekend, but I can see that lots of muck came to the surface for healing on many different levels. Excellent.

Something positive?

Someone asked me how my day was yesterday. He asked if no news was good news and I replied yes. He suggested I post something on my facebook site since people would like to here something positive. That seemed simple. It was simple until I started forming sentences. Then it hit me how stuck in a quagmire my thinking is. It goes something like this, "I am okay today but..." The "buts" seem limitless. A dear friend once told me that every time you say the word but you should imagine a old man's hairy butt crack. It is a sure fired way to deter one from such sentences. The image is graphic but doesn't seem to be working currently.

Here is the issue. I have always been a over-achiever and die-hard perfectionist. I hold myself and my surroundings to standards that are not really reasonable. This has always increased when I didn't feel well. I nit-pick myself into feeling more inadequate. Now that that my physical health is truly impacting every section of my life all of this is magnified. Trying to find the positive makes looking for a needle in the haystack feel really easy.

I feel stuck. I would imagine it is like when a 3 year old can't break out of a tantrum no matter how much he/she tries. Every positive thought seems to have a sneaky little shadow of a negative attached to it. I seem to be great at helping others with positive thinking but at the moment I feel like a giant spot-light is shining on my negative thinking.

I don't have an answer to this right now. I will resist the urge to sarcastically beat up on myself about this (the words were there itching to be typed though). I know all the cliches about be in the now, the now is perfect, give thanks for the small things, etc. Again, resisting the urge for dark sarcasm or inappropriate hand gestures.

I guess I have to muster up some gratitude for being forced to see that this must change. Anyone have a magic wand I can use to find Mrs. Positive?

P.S. If you were wondering about my health, here is the one minute update. The bulk of my symptoms seem to be improved. Intermittent pain and rage come to shake things up more than I would like. Very tired and out of my self-care routine. Still working and getting more accomplished each day. Surrounded by support as long as I don't hell at everyone (either in person or via some form of technology) and tell them to go away. The plan is to start my Lyme treatment again on Friday morning. As much as I want to say these feelings are gone, it just ain't the truth -- I am scared. I don't really believe my body can handle this and still be able to function. Okay...positive? The positive is I am a lot better then I was a month ago after this neurotoxic reaction and my body is ready to start this treatment that WILL get me well. (I am biting my tongue to not say, but.....)
That's a start at least.

Get a grip

I'm out of gas tonight. The internal tank feels empty. Truthfully it has been empty for days but I have kept pushing because there didn't seem to be any opportunity to take the day off. The result --- utter collapse today. Interacting with other humans (and even animals) has not gone so well. I have been hurt or offended or hurt/offended others since my head left the pillow. When it seemed like there was no way I could stop yelling (or crying), somehow I pulled myself up by the bootstraps and kept going (until the next meltdown).

All this is a bit disheartening. I should probably lighten it up with a little dark humor. Here are a few of my favorite quotes today. This was my explanation for not bringing kale to my supportive co-workers, "Sorry I didn't cut down my kale trees for you today. I was busy having a nervous breakdown." My doctor explaining how I get more oxygen to the tissues and make the little lymies not want to be there, "There is a protocol that involves wearing oxygen while jumping on a trampoline." My calm response as a glared at him..."I'm not ready for that." His response, "Saunas are fine too." Excellent.

I know being positive is the way to be. I am just plain out of positive. I am left with whatever seems to fall out of the mouth. Darkly sarcastic seems to be the best of the barrel -- hysteria being the not-so-desirable choice.

I am ready for a shift again yet it just seems out of reach.  I know I need to focus on the moment and pray to a higher power for help. My response to that is some not so polite hand gestures that have seen the light of day on occasion today.

Get a grip Faith. That is my prayer tonight. 

Appreciation

I gotta give a shout out to all of those amazing people that have surrounded my family with various kinds of support. I wish I could somehow thank everyone by name but that seems daunting. Partially because it would be a long list and also because my memory has giant Swiss cheese-like holes.

My workplace  -- just amazing! They are some of the most positive, loving and supportive people I have ever encountered. They respond when I ask for help and they respond when I am too incapacitated to even know how to ask for help. And let's be clear, these are very busy folks who are not exactly wealthy. Yet they give meals, gift cards, house cleaning, smiles, hugs, gifts of laughter, and so many other things. I can't imagine a more supportive environment.

My spiritual community -- also amazing. They are organizing a meal list and have most of the nights covered the next few weeks. I have some gift cards from work to fill in the blanks. Again, I am so grateful.

My family and close friends -- INCREDIBLE! I don't even have words to describe what they are doing for me.

My medical team of various modalities -- again I am speechless. Dr. Campbell just feels like an angel that was sent here to help me see how this body can finally heal.

It is really interesting accepting all this help. Being a nurse is about helping others. This accepting help is very new to me. This being vulnerable and letting others see what I perceive as weak and flaw-filled, also new to me. When people hear I have been sick for 16 years they are shocked. (I really have been the master faker). Faking it is just no longer an option. Move on or give up. Giving up is also not an option. Maybe "fake it and make it" for periods of time when I must. But otherwise I think this time is about letting go of this need to always be the one in control and "helping" others. It is time for me to be real and open. It is time to heal.

To all those that lovingly offer their support while I travel through this time of intense healing THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!

Thank you dear little lymies

Tonight I want to thank the dear little lymies.

Thank you dear little lymies for showing me that I have to learn to listen to my body or else the consequences are massive. This means getting enough sleep, exercise, saunas/hot tubs, supplements, medicines, meals (on time -- 8, 1, 6), managing stress, etc.

Thank you dear little lymies for showing me that I must stay in the present moment. Since the central nervous system is vital for everything and it is completely erratic at the moment, I can't plan for the next hour let alone the next day.

Thank you dear little lymies for showing me how much fear is there about not being in control. I must trust that all that is needed will be taken care of. I have to let go. I love all the sayings around this depending on the tradition. Two of my current favorites that have the same message, "Let the universe provide," or "Let Jesus take the wheel." I am smiling just typing that :) As my spiritual teacher keeps saying to me, "It's time to drop the doer-ship." Again, giggling, I think to myself...I better get out of the driver seat before I crash the car.
I think I need to elaborate on this control concept a little more. Control = safety for me. That concept has been there since I was small. I know intellectually that this is a false sense of control and safety. I thought I had a handle on this. My dear little lymies have thankfully shown me otherwise. I can't control my body, my ability to parent or be a wife or a kennel owner, my ability to work, how and at what rate I will beat this disease, what the outcome will be or even my ability to function at all. I can't control anything because there is really no need to control. Life is and will be beautiful without this white knuckle grip I have had on the need to "be in control. "

I said to my friend today, "I feel like I am walking naked. It is just me and the sky." It is like I am reliving my childhood and becoming a monk at the same time.

This feeling of having to reach out and accept help is intense. Help with cooking, cleaning, paying the bills, running errands, the kennel, etc. I must be open to the idea that what is needed will happen even if I am unable to "do it." I must let go of the penchant for guilt --- about everything. I must be okay with the idea that I may make a mistake or miss a deadline. I must be with myself, be quiet and listen. I must be happy and content with what is.

Tonight I was reading a book that I friend gifted with me. So much of what is said in "Succulent Wild Women," by SARK resonates for me in so many ways. This one line though is really pertinent for what I am writing about tonight and a clear opportunity to let go of a very old pattern. She says, "I am often seduced by struggle. It is as though it is painful to feel too good. I am used to the effort and sometimes confused by the joy." This is a sentence that clearly shines the light on a habit that must go.

Thank you dear little lymies for showing me that I can be, and that actually I am a Succulent Wild Woman right now. This includes all of my perceived imperfections and flaws. This includes all of me. It is time to drop the old patterns that are no longer are needed. It is time to be alive and open. It is also time to allow you to leave dear little lymies. You are no longer needed. Thank you though for all that you have taught and continue to teach me. Long may I listen.

Falling into fall

It's time to fall. The days are getting shorter. I awake into a dark crisp morning followed by the sounds of geese on the move. There is a knowing it will be warm and sunny in a few hours, but for now I breathe in the cold crisp air and enjoy the sounds of fall. The garden is tired from all the heat and the the trees are about to let go of their leaves. All this letting go is necessary to survive the cool darkness of winter so they can sprout and flourish again in the spring and summer.

Letting go now so one can flourish later --- that is exactly where I am at. I have been forced to see that I have to surrender to this process and trust that it will be okay in the end. That I will be swimming and even surfing someday. Those goals seem much further away then they once did. Somehow though I have to keep trusting that it will happen.

I had thought I would be through the worst of the treatment by now and on to more of a maintenance dose. Instead I am still recovering from a severe neurotoxic reaction that has left me with a very sensitive and erratic central nervous system. My sweet sweet doctor is trying so many things to help. I do think it is helping, but much slower then I would like.

I have been off my Lyme meds for 11 days. I don't feel like I need a toxic waste hazard sticker on my forehead anymore. I do however feel like a child with a sensory processing disorder. My CNS is just not my friend. Half a bottle of Kava Kava seems to help that but it is not really kind to the liver. My doc gave me more "stuff" to help bind the little toxic bastards and hopefully excrete them. Envisioning a river flushing out this system and allowing the body to heal.

Letting the river flow. One day and time. Actually it is one thing or one moment at time. This is all I can do right now. And, if you see me getting ahead of myself and the subsequent "overwhelm" please remind me. I can't change how behind I am at work or at home. All I can do is one thing at a time. When I start to worry or get nervous the CNS seems to totally short circuit. So, feel free to chant the mantra when you see me getting ahead of myself -- one moment at a time.

One moment at a time does not include the ever present worry about how I will ever get caught up at work or how my body will ever tolerate more of these Lyme meds. One moment at a time is now. Now is what it is. I have to be present or I just loose ability to function. This is a good lesson that we all can learn. I would just prefer to not have such an intense reminder if I don't heed my own advice. One moment at a time. I am thankful that in this moment I was finally able to write again. Now on to the next moment -- time for a shower and some then some chai. Today is about falling into simplicity.