Hope in a Hopeless World

Mental Health Outreach

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Crash in Aisle Two

PTSD, You are not alone /
Crystal / August 3, 2018

Walking into Target, my one year old in the cart, I scan the entry way. Everyone looks suspicious. They cannot all be bad. Can they? I push ahead. Eyes darting around from one person to the next. My grocery list is tucked safely in my back pocket. My hand makes no attempt to reach for it. The chaos around me requires my full attention to navigate. Who just touched my shoulder? Quickly my head turns to the side to catch a glimpse of the culprit. She carries on like nothing happened. My eyes immediately find my child. He is safe. Rounding aisle three of the store, I am too far from the exit. Too far from my escape route. There up ahead. Two men enter aisle three. Why are they looking at us? What could they possibly want? I must protect my child. Quickly, my body turns the cart in the opposite direction. Picking up speed, my cart rounds the corner to aisle two. My mind calculating the quickest way out of the store. SMASH! The sound of two carts colliding stops me in my tracks. The judgement on the woman’s face. She thinks I am a terrible mom, but if she only knew that the men in the aisle over are trying to steal my child, then she would understand. Quickly moving the cart around the woman that I just ran into, my mind continues to plot the fastest way to the parking lot. To the safety of our car. Abandoning the cart near the front of the store, we make our exit. Relief washes over me. No one has followed. My car is in sight. The groceries will have to wait. Looking back on this moment, I cannot help but think about the woman in aisle two. I can imagine that she had her own stressors that day. Simply wanting to grab a few items from the local Target and get home to her family. Imagine her surprise when a woman and child come crashing into her cart while she’s looking at the salad dressings in aisle two. She could have gone home that day and described the scene. “A crazed woman with a baby in the cart, who looked like she hadn’t showered in days, ran right into my cart today! And then just took off.” She had no way of knowing that I was struggling with the symptoms of PTSD and vicarious trauma. No way of knowing that I had convinced myself that the men in aisle three were trying to steal my child. There is always going to be a reason to point out the wrong doings of others. There will always be reasons to hate, hold a grudge. I would like to encourage you today to remember that each person has a story and you might be encountering that person in the lowest part of their story.  I would not want to be judged based on my lowest, most hopeless days. For the lady in aisle two, she was forced to react to a situation that she did not ask for. She could have yelled, sought revenge, or allowed this moment to ruin the rest of her day. However, I would like to think that she could have saw the pain in my eyes and choose a different response. What if, instead of condemning me for my actions, she chose to quickly forgive and recognize that there is more to the story then just a reckless irresponsible mother? The actions of others, whether positive or negative, always have a reason behind them. No one acts without reason. Without something driving that choice. For me, “the crash in aisle two,” was caused by the motivation to protect my child. I had no way of convincing myself that the threats were not real. These actions forced another person to make a choice. A choice that she did not ask for. I would encourage everyone to seek kindness and understanding and use that as your reason to act. Show kindness to the most undeserving. You might use that power to change the course of someone’s life. Author: Crystal

Denial. Isolation. Flight.

Depression, Marriage, You are not alone /
Crystal / July 27, 2018

I cannot pinpoint the exact moment that isolation began to creep into our lives, but slowly my husband and I experienced a steady drift toward isolation. It’s amazing looking back. One day we were the happy, power couple that would be together forever, shared every moment of success and failure, and simply did life together. The next day, we were passing ships. Lost in a world of panic attacks, nightmares, paralyzing anxiety, and fear. Passing ships that would eventually reach for permanent separation as a way out. A way to fix the pain. Naturally one would think that two best friends and life partners would connect over experiencing similar symptoms. Our mental illnesses were caused by separate events, but the symptoms were eerily similar, as were our coping styles. Denial. Isolation. Flight. Thoughts around “This is all in my head.” “I should be able to handle this.” “No one would understand.” “It’s not as bad as what other people have” “No one has noticed a change in me.” Whatever the reason for the timing, my husband and I were struck with the impact of mental illness at the same time. Unable to provide comfort or support to the other. How can two people, best friends and life partners, be sharing the same experience but still feel so alone? It was during the lowest time in our marriage, that I knew something needed to change. Symptoms that should have been obvious, had been ignored for too long. The sound of a scream on TV would send me running for cover, even in the safety of my own home. The nightmares that would come at night would soon become the reason I would live on 3 hours of sleep each night. The simple brush of my arm in a crowded space would mean that I was being violated against my will. The ring of my phone meant that there was another person calling me that I couldn’t help. Another person that needed a Social Worker with better skills than I. Hopelessness, social withdrawal, avoided eye contact, chest pain, flashbacks. Survival mode. My body and mind were doing anything it could to hide from the fears in my mind. Which meant hiding from family, friends, co-workers, and even my husband, the one true love in my life. Somehow, I even brushed off a hospital stay as a “fluke.” I was seen in the emergency room for severe abdominal pain, vomiting blood, chest pain, difficulty breathing, and irregular heartbeat and still I refused all follow-up care after the hospital visit because the doctors didn’t find anything physically wrong with me. The power of mental illness does not only affect your mind. Often the physical changes will be the first symptoms noticed. It was several months after my visit to the hospital that I finally sought treatment. After learning about my own symptoms, it became abundantly obvious that my husband was experiencing similar symptoms. Even though we had already begun the separation process, I pushed him to seek help for his symptoms. To my surprise, he followed through on his first appointment and learned that he was living with combat PTSD, OCD, and Major Depression. It was a long road to recovery for the two of us and there were mistakes that were made during this time. A time of survival. A time of seeking for anything to heal the pain, anything to distract from the living nightmare that had us trapped inside. The greatest lesson we have learned along the way, is to let people in. There are people that will understand. There are people that want to help you through and stand with you, but they cannot do that if they are not given the opportunity. Isolation is a dangerous and scary place to live. Take the first step today to reach out to someone. Schedule an appointment, find a support group, confide in a friend. The hope that comes with healing, is more than worth it. The loneliness that you may be feeling now will not last forever. In fact, the struggles that we are handed in life are bound to make us more compassionate, understanding, and strong. Use your low points in life, to prove that your trials and troubles do not define you. Tell your fear and doubts that you are in control. Author: Crystal

Attack in the Night

Anxiety /
Elizabeth / July 25, 2018

Chest pain, shortness of breath, upset stomach, on the verge of tears. I forgot how terrible this feeling is. I remember feeling paralyzed by these feelings in the past. Paralyzed by the silent, fierce attacker that gives no warning. Tonight it is keeping me awake. I fall asleep for a few minutes only to be jolted awake by the sound of a car alarm. I move around our bed unsure at first of where I was and if it was a dream or reality. Thankfully the beeping stops, but then my husband quickly enters our large master bedroom to peek out the front window that overlooks our driveway. My heart is beating fast now, almost as fast as my thoughts. We exchange a short conversation about what just happened. He seems concerned that the alarm went off, saying, “It doesn’t just do that for no reason.” I ask if there are dogs barking. He doesn’t know, but I’m sure I heard the neighbor’s dogs barking at the sound of the alarm. As if I need another worry to keep me up at night. A massive flood of emotions and thoughts come rushing through my body and my head at full force and I am sure it will be a sleepless night. Fast forward a few months and my attacker has followed me again. While enjoying a beautiful evening of music this summer, my husband and I decide to venture into the standing only section to get a closer view of one of our favorite bands, For King & Country. They are the headliner of the music festival, the last band of the weekend, and you can feel the anticipation in the air. We stand together as the sun begins to set and the air cools. At the same time I can feel the crowd growing thicker and thicker, closer and closer. All of a sudden the air feels heavy, my heart rate quickens, my palms get sweaty, and the sounds and smells of the strangers around me become increasingly louder and overwhelming. Even though I’m aware that there is no real threat of danger, thoughts of unlikely situations start racing through my mind. I close my eyes and start taking deep breaths to help calm myself down. Sensing my restlessness, my husband asks if I’m okay and takes hold of my hand to comfort me. I would feel horrible leaving after waiting for so long, but all I want to do is run out of there. Finally, the white curtain is lit, shadows of large drums appear, and the band’s signature entrance begins. My attacker is distracted for the moment, but still looms in the background ready to rear its ugly head at any moment. Recently, as I went through some boxes of paperwork in preparation for our upcoming move, I came across some old medical records. There it was, typed in simple words, no different than my height and weight listed the same page: Anxiety Disorder. My first ever mental health diagnosis. Anxiety is the name of this attacker, and sometimes, like some kind of metaphysical werewolf, it morphs into a full blown panic attack. Its abrupt interruption and lingering presence can be life altering. It is a silent, but strong force that affects the lives of many people I know and love. This attacker is not discriminatory. It can impact the young and the old, men and women, single or married, career-driven or stay-at-home parents. It isn’t convenient or welcome, but it will show up anyway, regardless of the place or time, and stop us dead in our tracks. The overwhelming weight of anxiety can be debilitating, and many times even those closest to us do not know or understand what is happening within us. It is important for us to try to explain what we’re feeling because as with any disease, you don’t know what it’s really like until you’ve experienced it yourself. There are many people who haven’t had the pleasure (ha!) of first-hand experience with a mental illness, but they truly do care and want to try to understand. There will be people who will say hurtful things. They might dismiss and undermine our feelings saying things like, “You worry too much” or “You’re just stressed out” or “You just need to relax.” As hard as it might be, let’s give them grace. Perhaps they want to help, but don’t know what to do or what to say. Accept that no one is perfect and even if they don’t completely understand, that doesn’t mean that they don’t love and care about you. Let’s be transparent and open up the dialogue. This does not show weakness, it shows strength. It can be truly refreshing and healing. This is a place of acceptance, support and love. We would love to hear your story. In the comments below, share how anxiety or another mental illness has affected your life, and some ways that you have been able to overcome.

An Unexpected Nudge

Bipolar, Featured, Introduction, MH Awareness /
Elizabeth / July 20, 2018

Hi!  My name is Elizabeth and I am thrilled to have the privilege to contribute to this wonderful blog. As Crystal mentioned in her last post, we met at a woman’s group which I lovingly refer to as “Coffee Group.”  It’s just a small group of real women gathering together a few nights a month to drink coffee and chat about life. I am not one to hold back details about my personal life and most people probably think I overshare, so surprisingly I hadn’t shared much at Coffee Group about my mental illness.  In fact, aside from brief comments here and there, I hadn’t really talked about it with anyone for a long time.  My psychiatry check-ups had been reduced down to 20 minutes two times a year.  I had been managing it well for several years and feeling back to myself, so why talk about it? Following my hospitalization and diagnoses of Bipolar I in 2011, I had a strong desire to connect with others that had similar experiences.  After taking part in group therapy, I tried out a depression and bipolar support group in the Minneapolis area.  While it was comforting to hear from others going through similar struggles, it didn’t feel quite right for me and I only attended a handful of times. I later attended a mental health conference in Miami with my sister and was inspired to start a local support group, and took several steps in that direction, but never saw it through.  I always chalked it up to being too busy at work or at home, when in reality it was my fear of putting myself out there and lack of confidence as a leader that kept me from pursuing it. During one Coffee Group last year we were discussing how we can use our God-given gifts to serve others.  We were going around the table each sharing something meaningful to us – working with children, instructing yoga, and dog therapy were among some of the ideas these beautiful women were passionate about.  When it was my turn, I nervously explained that I wanted to start a mental health support group, and also shared some of my fears surrounding it.  The outpouring of encouragement from the other women was amazing, but I still had that nagging, negative “You can’t do it” thought stuck in my head. After our group ended, Crystal approached me.  We talked for a moment about our shared experience living with mental illness and then she said it…she would be willing to co-lead a support group with me.  I was speechless (that takes a lot!) and beyond excited.  The thought of leading was a scary thing for me and now that huge barrier was removed by someone I had just met.  I told her I would love that and we agreed to talk again soon. I am so thankful that I decided to talk about my experience and my vision that night and even more thankful that Crystal decided to reach out to me.  Our friendship began that day, and I am very proud to say our journey as co-leaders of an official mental health support group commenced in March of this year.  We are just getting started in our shared goal of raising mental health awareness and breaking the stigma surrounding it. The process will look a little different for each of us, but there is true peace and healing in finding your tribe, your community, your support.  Whether it be through family, friends, church, a local support group, an online blog, or a combination of these things, please know you are not alone and you don’t have to let your mental illness define you or your life. We hope you will join us on this journey and invite others too – the bigger the circle, the bigger the impact.  If you or someone you know is living with a mental illness and would like more information about finding a local support group, please reach out to us. Author Elizabeth

My Inner Critic

Love. Joy. Kindness, MH Awareness, You are not alone /
Crystal / July 19, 2018

Walking into our local coffee shop, I anxiously waited for the other members of the group to arrive. It was my first time joining a group like this one. Chipping off my freshly painted nail polish from my fingernails, I watched for anyone that might be associated with the group. A friendly smiling face approached me and introduced herself as the leader of the women’s church group. Feeling like a fraud, I wanted to run out the front doors, but my feet felt like heavy weights that were keeping me frozen in place. A few others joined us at the large table and the natural progression of small talk began. Simple questions like “Are you married? Do you have any kids?” Questions that should be easy for anyone to answer. Ones that don’t require a lot of thought. When the eyes of the group turned to me, I instantly broke down in tears. Watching the confused looks on the faces around me, I felt the need to explain. But where would I even begin? The truth was that I had just learned hours before that I had been diagnosed with depression, anxiety, and vicarious trauma from my work as a social worker. Vicarious trauma, otherwise known as Compassion Fatigue, occurs from exposure to hearing trauma stories from others and being a direct witness to the emotional residue that is associated with that trauma. At the same time, my husband and I were going through separation after 8 years of marriage (Spoiler Alert: I am overjoyed to say that we did not follow through on divorce and just celebrated 9 years of marriage.) The jumbled mess of an explanation that came out next was through many tears and sobbing. I think it went something like, “My name is Crystal. I don’t know if I am married anymore. My husband has untreated combat PTSD and he has moved out. I apparently have vicarious trauma, depression, and anxiety. But we have one child, he’s 3.” Being someone that normally keeps all her feelings and emotions inside, I wanted to bolt for the exit. What could these well put together ladies possibly be thinking of me now? I quickly learned that my inner critic was much harsher then the opinions of those at the table. Instead of the judgement and shame I was expecting, I was met with love and compassion. For the next hour the group shared stories of relationship struggle and encounters with mental illness. The connection with others that had experienced similar stories brought a calm to my world. I wasn’t alone. One of these amazing women, was Elizabeth. Through conversation with her I learned that she lives with Bipolar Disorder and that we shared a similar passion of mental health awareness. In the coming months we would bond over importance of mental health. Our discussions eventually led us to pursue co-leading a peer-led mental health support group, which we successfully launched and run each month. The women from the church group were some of our first fans cheering us on when our hours of discussion and research paid off. Through Elizabeth’s unconditional love, support, and advice she has helped me in this road to recovery. It is with immense joy and honor that I announce that Elizabeth has accepted my invitation to contribute to this blog site. Please help me welcome Elizabeth as an author on the Hope in a Hopeless World site. Check out the “About Elizabeth” tab and watch for up-coming posts from her.

Introduction

Introduction /
Crystal / July 17, 2018

Welcome to the first ever entry on Hope in a Hopeless World Blog Page! Just a few weeks ago, my husband and I visited a winery with some close friends. As we sat on the wooden bar stools near the owner, I noticed a young couple walk in and sit down next to us. Within minutes, the young man strikes up a conversation with the owner of the small establishment by saying, “How long have you had Diabetes?” The question seemed out of no where, at least for me someone who does not live with diabetes. I have yet to figure out what clued him in. The owner without hesitation responded to the question by offering up detailed information about her diagnosis. For the next 30 minutes they spoke of their struggles with the illness, treatment options, new studies that show promise for those with the condition, effects on daily life, and possible causes. It was an immediate connection with a complete stranger. There was no shame or fear of judgement over talking about their shared physical condition. On the way home, I thought about my own current and past diagnoses: PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Eating Disorder, Vicarious Trauma. Then I started to think about my own circle of family, friends, and acquaintances and began to count all those that are aware of my diagnoses. I could only come up with a handful of people that were aware of all 5 diagnoses, and even fewer who know what mental illness looks like for me. What makes physical illness so much easier to talk about then mental illness? Often mental illness can feel isolating. It can feel like you alone are the only one that feels lost in a world without hope. According to National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI), “Approximately 1 in 5 adults in the U.S.—43.8 million, or 18.5%—experiences mental illness in a given year.” That’s just in one given year! Yet, we don’t talk about mental illness like we do physical illness. Why is that? Why can’t we discuss the challenges that come with mental illness, up coming research, potential causes, and treatment options, without feeling judged? Then I thought, maybe we can! Maybe it starts with us, those that are living with a mental illness or know someone that is. Maybe it starts with transparency, vulnerability. Bravery to say I have a mental illness, this is what it looks like, and this is what works for me.My hope through this blog is to share my story, my life, and the lessons I have learned along the way. In doing so, I hope that it provides connection and conversation for those that feel like they are alone. If you or someone you know lives with mental illness, I would love to hear from you! In the comments below, share your story of resilience and where you find hope in a world that can feel hopeless. We do not have a spirit of fear, but of Power, Love, and Self-Control. – 2 Timothy 1:7