Cycles of Happiness: The Suffering Ends

No one likes the bad times. But, they do end and things do get better. It doesn’t always seem like it will though. Sometimes it feels endless. Focusing on the positives help, making your own small moments of happiness helps, too. But, knowing that it will end and the cycle will change, that things WILL get better, that’s the key.

Depression makes it feel endless, like there’s no hope, nothing will ever change, and your suffering will continue forever. There’s nothing you can do, no matter how hard you try, so why not give up. You’re so tired, so weak, so pathetic why even try anymore? Life almost doesn’t seem worth it and the things you love don’t drive you anymore. It physically messes with your sight making your eyes see things as duller and it messes with your temperature to make you feel colder. There are other physical effects as well. It TRICKS you.

The one thing other than suffering that has been consistent in my life is the fact that I always get through it and something better happens, the cycle changes and I have a period of amazing times, especially if I”m determined to hold onto it, determined to never feel that way again and to make my life the way I want it no matter what happens, cause we cannot control what happens, we can only control our reactions. It’s not easy and there are always bad days, but I can fight that depression back most of the time. Well, there’s one more thing that’s constant and that’s love. But the point I was trying to make is, no matter how hopeless or pathetic I feel, no matter how endless and unchangeable/unbeatable it seems…. I always do get through it… and then I have to tell my Mom she’s right. Ugh lol For some reason it always surprises me though. I get through it. And I have learned something to help me in life. I mean i have this scar from it, this sensitive spot that takes time to heal and I may remember the dark times… but something has come of it to make the next cycle even better and to make me even better/stronger. NO I don’t want to have to go through this and I wouldn’t wish it on ANYONE. But, now I guess, especially after this summer, I can say I know it gets better. And I know I have people to remind me when my brain/chemicals trick me. So here I am reminding all you out there that I am living fucking proof of this statement.

If you have taken the time to read this, know that I have been there and I have made it through to other side and found happiness again. The darkness may come again, and to be honest I’m scared to death to go through another few months like that (like living hell) but at least I know it WILL end. That is the main thing I learned this last time. That even when it seems like torture, like it’s inescapable, like it’s impossible and the odds are stacked against you… you can make it through and it will get better. You will feel the joy again.. but sometimes we can’t do it ourselves. Let those around you help… seek help whether you are simply looking up stress management or meditation or how to raise serotonin levels DO IT. It will save your life and your sanity. There is help and there are ways to escape, to conquer it… you just have to find it. I am living proof you can be happy again.

Mangosteen!!! The antioxidant super fruit

Mangosteen is the new superfruit!! It can help many symptoms of different illnesses not to mention it is just down right good for you. When I found this I did a lot of research. As you know I have a few illnesses that cause me pain so I looked into this with hope. It has definetly helped me. It’s not a cure at all, but it has made me feel better and healthier. I also don’t get sick as often. What i found was a drink called Vemma. It is relatively inexpensive and tastey 🙂 I like making shakes and smoothies out of it and so does my mom. It is also full of essential vitamins and alloevera. What’s even cooler is you can work from home with this product too!! So not only do I get a healthy product but I can work from home, because as some of you may know, it is very difficult have a 9-5 when you are chronicly ill. But i have found a love and passion for this new drink and the opportunity that comes with it. to learn more about the clinical studies and the opportunity visit: http://mariahwoodypr.wordpress.com/2014/08/27/can-you-be-successful-with-vemma/ …

Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and Exposures

In my opinion, cognitive behavioral therapy and exposure therapy is the best way to treat OCD. It is what I have had the most success with. It saved me, basically.

I have tried to talk through the fears and thoughts, I have tried to rationalize about them, I have also tried to reassure myself and have others reassure me that nothing bad would happen. These things do not work. The very nature of OCD makes it hard to rationalize something away. We know our fears are irrational or that they started out normal and ballooned out of proportion, but we still can’t stop them. it is the process in our brain making us obsess over them. The more you try to do something to alleviate the anxiety from an intrusive thought, the more important you are making it and the more you are going to obsess over it. When you shrink away from it, you are giving in to the OCD. You have to challenge it. You have to face the fear and combat it, then sit with the anxiety until it decreases. This makes you habituated to it and the thought becomes less important. It begins to scare you less, the more you face it.

My therapist did something that was very beneficial to me and taught me how handle future fears that I started to obsess over.I’m going to use my fear of my mom dying to demonstrate.

Therapist: “What are you afraid of?”

Me- “My mom dying?”

Therapist – “What would happen if she did?”

Me – “I would be devastated.”

Therapist – “Then what?”

Me – “What do you mean, then what?”

Therapist – “Then what would happen?”

Me – “I would break down.”

Therapist – “Then what?”

Me – “I would be in unbearable pain.”

Therapist – “Then what?”

Me – “I don’t know. I guess… I would eventually try to move on because she’d want me to, but it’d be hard.”

Therapist – “And then what?”

Me – *shrug* “I’d live my life…”

At first I hated this. No one wants to think about this stuff. No one wants to go through the details of their fear and what would happen. But, not doing this was even more detrimental because if I didn’t face it it wouldn’t go away. This exercise forced me to think through the thought instead of what I usually would do which was try to stop thinking about it and shrink away from the thought. But, moving through the thought made me habituated, made me less afraid. Sure it still worries me from time to time, but I don’t obsess about it. It is not there every waking moment. And this used to be one of my biggest fears!

My therapist told me to do something I was afraid of every day. OCD never truly goes away. You can get freedom from the symptoms, but you will always be a bit anxious or have recurring or new symptoms from time to time. Situations of high anxiety whether it is excitement or fear can often bring back symptoms, too. The difference is you can keep them at bay once you learn how to. You can drop the level that OCD impacts your life. You can be in control. To do this, you have to remember to not let the fear rule you after treatment. It’s tempting to just sit back once you’ve gone through treatment, but it’s important to handle something when it comes up. Do something you are scared of, whether it’s an exposure of your own or just facing a general fear. You don’t necessarily have to do it every day, but stay on top of it. Do it often. When I have a new fear or an old one resurfaces I run through it like my therapist used to, asking myself “then what?” Or I sit down and do an exposure on it. I won’t let it go and spiral out of control again. Or at least, I will try not to. So far,, i have done well. I have been out of treatment and mostly free for four years.

You Are Not Alone

You aren’t alone. No one’s OCD is exactly the same, but there are people going through similar things. And people have gotten better, have gotten freedom. It IS possible. I know how you feel though. It feels never ending, unbearable, overwhelming. It is like our own personal hell. We are stuck, tormented, terrified, and surrounded by our worst fears. When we do make progress, it can feel like you are going two steps forward, three steps back.. or sometimes five steps back. But, trust me, you are getting somewhere. At some point you will look back and see how far you have come and it will amaze you. If you look back in the beginning though you only see the small victories.. but celebrate those too! Those are awesome as well. You can break free, slowly but surely. Just take it one step at a time, one small victory at a time and you’ll get better.

I think everyone going through this needs to hear it at one point. They need to hear that there are others like them and that there is hope. The good thing is it’s true. I can tell you from experience. 🙂

My Mind is a Battle Field 2

Time Off

Camped out near a small village, everything was still. Everything was safe. But I couldn’t shake this feeling someone or something was watching me, stalking me from the shadows. Why single me out? I am only a soldier low on the food chain. But I know he was out there in the shadows. The monster. I guess I am the prey. I must smell like I taste wonderful.

Bundled in all my gear and nestled into a makeshift hammock I watched my fellow comrades enjoy, or at least make the best of, their free time. They talked and laughed while, through the corner of my eye, I watched for the monster. I tried to stay calm but I soon found myself alert and all my muscles tense. This was not a time of ease for me like it should be. Nothing should be worrying me, nothing was going on. I should be having what little fun we can get out here with my new found friends. But my body was tensed and poised for an attack, though I knew there would not be one. I was ready for a fight like I was still out on the battle field playing the grand and lethal game of chess that we call war. I looked down and realized I was gripping my weapon so tightly that my knuckles were white. I released my grip on it and shook out my fingers, staring at them as if I could not comprehend why they’d do this to me.

“What’s the matter Jones, flashbacks?” asked Arney Shwartz.

“Yeah, that’s what it is,” I answered.

“Well lighten up, it’s our day off.”

As he walked away I envied his nonchalance and his ease. He was wearing just an army green t-shirt, his army fatigue pants, and boots. He was not ready for war. He was relaxing. That’s not how I spend my time off. I’m never truly on break from the war. I was jealous of all of them. They were not stressing when they didn’t need to like I was.

I set my weapon down and took off my helmet, hesitantly, not fully letting go of them in case war were engaged. There was always the chance that a mortar could fly in and wreck us all, but the probability of that was very minimal. Besides, how does worrying now keep me alive if that happened? I decided to pretend I believed myself and let go of the helmet and gun with shaky fingers. I took a few deep breaths and leaned back into the hammock. I’ll be okay. I’ll be okay. I’ll be okay…..

 

 

That night sleep was fitful. Not only did I toss and turn, never finding the right position, but I was still on the lookout for the monster. Oh, he  was crafty. More than a few times I’ve caught him in the form of something else. A loved one, a soldier, on my side and against me, a shadow. He put doubt in my mind.

“You’ll never win this war,” he’d say.” You can’t protect your friends. You can’t protect your family. I’ll get ’em all.” Then he’d snicker. “And if I can’t do it, I will possess you and you will do it. Your comrades will fall at your hand.” He would give a maniacal laugh.

All these things it would whisper in my ear as I lay trying to sleep. Soon though it not only plagued me in my sleep. It was everywhere. And always on the battle field.

Ducking behind a sand bunker, enemy in sight, I load my weapon. My mind is racing almost as fast as my heart is.

“You’ll never get us.” The soldier from across the field is talking to me. I can see his lips moving and can’t believe I can hear from here. “You’re going to die. Tonight is your last night on earth, how does that make you feel?”

“Shoot! Damn it Jones, what are you doing?” Larry Reynolds yells at me.

“They’re all going to die,” says the enemy soldier, calm and sure of himself.

“No,” I whisper. “I won’t let it happen.”

“How can you stop it?”

“Please don’t let us die. Please don’t let us die. Please don’t let us die,” I said out loud to whatever invisible forces there was out there.

“Well we’re gonna if you don’t start pitchin’ in, damn it,” said Reynolds.

I take shaky aim at that enemy soldier. “You’re gonna miss,” he says, lips moving through my scope, as I let a round off, completely missing my target.

“What the hell was that!” yells Reynolds.

“Told ya,” says the enemy soldier.

I’m angry now and not shaky anymore. I aim my gun for his head and squeeze the trigger, hitting dead center on his forehead. He vanishes into thin air like a vapor. Just materializes like a damn gas. Like he was never truly there. But I know he was. My shock fades away and I join the fight just in time to take out three guys aiming at our bunker with grenade launchers.

“That’s what I’m talking about, Jones!” says Reynolds.

No time to worry about their souls now, there’s more fighting to be done. It seems less stressful now, when there’s a real enemy to face and fight then on my time off when there is an invisible one.

Stress Lives

Stress is a living thing moving about my body. I can feel it when it comes to pay a visit, and it stays for days. It’s a force manipulating my body and emotions, making me sick. Sometimes it seems it visits for no reason, sometimes it comes because of something. All I know is that it lives in me, surging through my limbs, coursing through my veins, pulsing in my head. It stings my eyes and squeezes my chest, or it lays dormant behind something waiting to jump out at me when provoked. It’s a horrible guest, that’s for sure. Go away.

I can evict this S.O.B., but I can’t get rid of it. It calls my phone, peeps in my window, follows me in public, lurks behind me like an alien shadow. It’s not always there. I’m sure it has other people to bug, but it calls on me often. I am not a booty call stress!! I will not grant you satisfaction, yet how can you battle such a force…

The ways are yet to be discovered for me, but I’m sure they are out there.

My Mind is a Battle Field

The Fight

The shadows of the soldiers on the opposite side seemed to blend into one dark, writhing mass. They would advance forward toward us, stop, then advance again. The group, occasionally, would fall back, but they’d push in on us again soon.

We fired round after round at them, but they wouldn’t die. A few would fall only to rise and advance on us again.

The bombs sounded in my ear, both muted and deafening, blending with the roar of my heart beats pounding in them. Not even nukes could bring them down this time.

It was dark, hard to see, and raining. Not very encouraging. I was scared and awed. I was frozen. Time didn’t touch me. I just watched. Detached and fully involved at the same time.

My mind is a battle field.

The Calm After the Storm

The dust settled. The lull after the war. We all looked at each other, awed. Is it over? We pat our bodies all over, checking to see if we are all there, no holes. We celebrate hesitantly, not knowing if we should, if it is for real. Truly over.

We feel proud and accomplished. We feel shaken. We feel like crying and collapsing. We feel like jumping up and shouting. It’s all behind us, we can move on from here. A flash of the moment I shot that evil bastard in the forehead, right between the eyes, comes to me. But I know he’s not gone. The monster’s not dead. That is not the last I’ll see of him. Once he’s healed he’ll be around the corner waiting to torment me because he loves to. Because he’s mischievous. How am I supposed to boss him back if he keeps coming back?

My celebration is over and though I still feel I’ve conquered something momentous, all my emotions that were numbed by adrenaline and fighting a war rush at me, now allowed to surface. Anxiety. I feel weak and shaky and need to sit and take a breath. I press my hand tightly to my head, as if to keep everything in. I am stunned, confused yet I know exactly what is going on, only, everything has stopped. It’s still frame. People are frozen mid jump with celebratory expressions on their faces. It’s just me. It’s just silence. The calm before the storm.

This is a story, but it’s more than that. It’s a metaphor for my OCD. Various things in there symbolize how I feel.

Feeling Stronger

 

I was always a rather active kid. In fact, I was classified hyper. I was strong, too. I could do pull ups at the age of four. I loved to use my muscles and be active. I was queen of the monkey bars.

Slowly, I lost my spunk. I became less active. I couldn’t do as much. In my Sophomore year of High School I noticed more problems. I got sick a lot, I had worsening asthma, I couldn’t do much in gym class, I was feeling fatigued, and I felt achy. As the years went on, I began to feel more and more fatigued and achy. In college, it got worse. I felt tapped out, like I had no energy to function. I often felt dizzy and even passed out once. I was in pain almost everyday (my muscles and my joints). My asthma got really bad.  I felt unwell and weak. All this time I had been telling doctors there was something wrong, that I shouldn’t feel this way for someone so young. What they did check out never amounted to anything.

Finally, I went to a rheumatologist and got a diagnosis. My blood work showed a definite autoimmune disease. Based on the symptoms, it looked like I had systemic Sjogren’s. I am being treated and I do see a difference, but it has only been five months. I have more energy now, enough to at lest function on my bad days. If I drink a lot of water I feel ten times better, though. But, school days still feel like a marathon. With each step, though, I know I’m getting better. Slowly, I am making progress.

Last year I had surgery on my left arm. Afterward, I had to use a rolling backpack because my shoulder and my arm was weak and sore. It was unable to support much weight so I had to carry the backpack in my right hand. I couldn’t hold the railing to go up or down stairs. I also didn’t feel safe on the stairs because my balance was off and I had little energy. But this year I have been wearing my back pack on my back. The fact that I can walk around carrying that and the fact that I have been using the stairs this year has made me happy. They are small victories, but they are important. It’s hard to get the motivation to do anything when you feel like crap, but I have been taking small steps everyday and they are helping. Plus I have been thinking: “I am strong,” and I have been holding myself stronger when I can.. and that mentality has helped too. I’m trying 🙂

I don’t care how long it takes, but I am sick of feeling weak. I am going to find a way to make myself as strong as I can. I may never lift tons of weight, but I want to feel stronger and fitter. My doctor has literally told me not to do much workouts with weight. With Sjogren’s I could hurt myself. But, I have to find a way to feel better. I know it will be slow. I will have to find my balance between pushing myself enough, but not too much. I think I have found that balance or I am close to it. Today, I had a really great work out session. I used low weight and just enough reps to feel it in my muscles a little bit, but not to hurt myself. I also did some calisthenics. I felt worked out, but not pushed over the edge. Today was the first day I felt strong in a long time. I am very encouraged.

Original Post Date Sept. 9th, 2013.
(I transferred the post from an old blog).

OCD – Introduction to my Battle

There are many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many different types of OCD. How many of you just counted those words? Are there an odd number or even? counting is common, but not everyone who has OCD does this. Trust me, we have our own compulsions though. Mh specific type, if you were to label it, would be scrupulosity. What does this mean? In informal terms, this means that I am concerned with doing the right thing and being a good person. I am “scrupulous” I guess. There is so much more to my OCD than this, though. Let’s start closer to the beginning… Has anyone ever seen The Exorcist? When I was eleven (which is when OCD is thought to manifest, near puberty) I watched this movie. It changed my life. For better or worse… I don’t know. Those types of what if’s can drive any person crazy, let alone anyone with OCD. But, it has made me who I am and I like that person (for the most part) so I will leave that thought at that. Anyways, I watched The Exorcist at a friends house and my friend’s mom stressed that it was based on a real story. Whether it is loosely based, not based at all, or actually based on a real story doesn’t matter, it impacted me like it was. My brain said “I have never heard of this happening, it is not logical,” but my OCD said “what if? just incase, you need to be safe.” At first, I was only effected at night. I would lay there for hours not being able to sleep, too ashamed to get out of bed and ask for help. I was too old to be scared of the dark and too rational to be scared of possession (just typing this word gives me chills). Eventually, after hours of heart pounding terror and many failed attempts to go and get my parents, I would finally slink into their room and sleep on their floor. I was scared i would be possessed. I was scared I would do something bad like kill my family or become something bad in general. I was also scared of ghosts lurking everywhere, unseen.Why?! I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t calm down my mind, why I couldn’t rationalize this and shut off the panic. This evolved into me saying an hour long prayer to myself every night before bed. It took that long because if I messed up one part or forgot something or if something didn’t feel right I had say it all over again. It was my strongest protection, it had to be exactly right. The prayer kept getting longer and I enlisted my mom to help me. We had a ritual we had to do every night and it had to be exactly right. Then these things crept into my daily life. I would say the prayer in my head. Then I had to mouth the words. I would mouth it so many times my jaw would lock. It was a part of every moment of every day and I had panic attacks that lasted for several days in a row. This is when my mom finally figured out what was going on. I thought something was very wrong with me, i was ashamed until I learned more about what it was. It wasn’t my fault. My brain had a weird way of processing things, to put it short. I could combat this.

This is years later and I have conquered MANY things to do with my OCD. It is virtually gone. I say this because it will never truly be gone. I will always have obsessive thoughts once in a while. I will always have urges to do a ritual once in a while. I will always have anxiety. I will always be afraid of something. But, it is not nearly the level it used to be. I am in control. It feels so amazing to say that. OCD doesn’t have me, I have OCD.

Original Post Date April 1st, 2014.
(I transferred the post from an old blog).

 

Chronic Illness Champion

Everyday I see what my body can do. To those of you who work out, this may mean pushing your body and doing new exercises. It may mean lifting a new amount of weight or going a further distance. That’s how I used to be and how I kind of wish I could still be. But, to me now, and people like me with chronic pain or fatigue, seeing what my body can do means walking another step, having one more minute of energy, carrying my backpack with slightly more ease, facing my day with more positivity, and holding myself up a little straighter. It means taking one increment of pain away each day. It means that I am trying to get healthier in small, slow steps. But, I am doing it. 🙂 I will find the best way that works for me. Some people may say a champion is someone who lifts five hundred pounds, someone who trains to win the Olympics, someone who does monumental things… To me a champion is anyone who accomplishes something in the face of a challenge. To me it is someone who wakes up everyday and faces life, faces their problems, faces their illnesses and still tries to improve. I was scared to go back to school this semester because even when I don’t do anything my muscles scream with pain and I am exhausted. But, my first week, though tiring, showed me I’m not as weak as I thought. It showed me that the small steps I am taking have actually paid off. And it shows me I can get better. It may be hard, but I will get through this semester of too many classes and I will improve myself, too. That is my goal. I know I can do it because I have amazing friends and family to lean on when I need it. Their love and support has helped me through so many things and even lifted me up when I needed it. So many people have told me I am a strong person. I know I am, but sometimes I doubt it. Especially lately. But, I suppose I should listen to those people… and listen to myself.

Original Post Date Sept. 6th, 2013.
(I transferred the post from an old blog).