Why I miss 'me'...

Today was, in a word, refreshing. Nothing big happened, nothing that is out of the norm for a Monday.

Except, for whatever reason, I have the energy of the 'me' I missed. This is the 'me' that gets up early and gets a good workout in, who has her lunch packed and ready to go, who gets to work BEFORE 8am, and who is focused and productive all day.

When depression hits, that 'me' goes away. I can barely get out of bed, can't focus, and am continuously late. I come home from work listless and tired, and do nothing all night other than lay on the couch.

I don't know if it's the Vitamin D supplements or what. It shouldn't be that the new medication is affecting me just yet, as it takes 2 weeks to reach therapeutic levels.Or it could just be an upswing that is naturally trying to balance out the low I was in all last week.

Whatever the reason, the old 'me' reappeared today. And it felt lovely. It felt great to smile, to focus on a task, to spend an actual 8 hours doing actual work, instead of zoning out like I have been. I feel so accomplished today! I tackled a project that is a level above me, but that I was given because of my 'go getter' attitude. I re-vamped my test case to be more streamlined and comprehensive, and I'm really proud of that! It was a LOT of tedious work in Excel, and after awhile your eyes can go batty from staring at spreadsheets for too long.

This is the real Christine. And dang if I didn't miss her!

Why I don't mind admitting I have a problem...

It's hard to open up and talk about the really scary things going through your head with someone who isn't one of your best friends. It's hard when it's a doctor...

It's even harder when it's a doctor you've never seen before. My Primary Doctor is no longer practicing family medicine. Instead she now is 100% allocated to the Weight Management clinic.

So I got to see Dr. Porter at Dean West yesterday. It was hard having to fill out that little depression survey and answer 'most days' to the 'thoughts of hurting yourself' question. It was even harder talking about how scared I am with someone I've never met.

Luckily, she's a good doctor. She was very kind, compassionate, and understanding.

After talking for awhile, she confirmed that this onset is probably a seasonal thing. While the medication I was on helped last winter when I started it, and kept me level and stable through the summer, now that the days are shorter and the sun is out less that medication is not helping quite as much. So we discussed a few different things: Light therapy (not covered by insurance) was one. Light boxes cost from about $70 - $300 depending on what you get. She also recommended Vitamin D supplements, and of course, an additional medication. The good news is, the medication she put me on has a history of working very well in tandem with the other one I'm on.

The bad news is, it takes 2 weeks to reach therapeutic levels in the body, during which time there may be an increase in thoughts of self harm and suicide.  Great.

I think I'll be fine. I've got enough people keeping an eye on me. (Again, to my 4 Knights in Shining Armor...Thanks). Having Romeow around helps. He's so loving and we usually spend at least an hour a night laying on the couch together cuddling. I also know I can go hang out with the Rush's and hold baby Eli, because babies are ALWAYS adorable and you can't help but smile when you hold them...as long as their asleep or in a good mood.

I'm really proud of myself for seeing the symptoms of the onset of depression and getting in to see someone right away. I'll also be going back to therapy. At least through the winter to get through this. It's not easy to own up to. especially when you are so used to taking care of yourself.

I don't mind admitting I have a problem, even if it's one that is embarrassing. But I also know it's one I can't control. I cannot control the level of different chemicals in my body, and I can't control the thoughts and feelings that come from it. I'm OK admitting I need some help. And I'm really glad I went as soon as I figured it out. I cannot have a repeat of last year, and I really want to enjoy my fall and winter as much as I can. 

Why I love when my friends prove me wrong

Not going to lie. This past week has been rough.

There's nothing spectacular happening, no big event to trigger it all.

And that was my first hint that something just isn't right.

When I started blogging, I said I would be honest about everything, the eating disorder, the depression, binges...everything. It may be hard for some people, the people who do truly love me and care about me, to read this. But I can't censor what is going on and water it down.

The truth is, I had some very scary thoughts this past week. I don't know why. I don't know how this triggered, or what happened. I haven't been working out much lately, and I haven't been making great eating choices either. That's another sign.

Last Saturday, I went for a run. My running time is when I decompress. I hadn't ran in awhile, and pretty much haven't decompressed in the same amount of time.

It hit me hard. Physically, I felt like I'd been punched in the chest. I lost my breath, and my heart ached. Mentally, it was like a dam burst. There wasn't any one particular thing that came through, but none of it was good. Just a whole lot of sadness, hurt, anger, frustration, and confusion. I did something I rarely do outside the confines of my home, or therapy appointment. I burst into tears. I had to walk, sobbing, back to my car.

Typically, this would be the perfect set up for a binge. But since I'm so conscious and aware of the triggers for a binge, I won't let myself give in. But here's the thing: the release may have been circumvented, but the urge to do something wreckless, violent, and self damaging did not. In fact, it was stronger than it's ever been.

And that scared me. A lot.

I'm not a violent person, at all. So having the urge to throw something at the wall, or to break something, or to punch something was quite frightening to me. Much more so the other thoughts that passed through my mind.

How do you deal with it when the person you're afraid of is yourself?

Part of all of this feeling is the feeling and thought that no one cares about you. If you were to be gone, to disappear, no one would care, and no one would notice.

I turned off my phone for 3 days. I didn't check my email. I didn't go on Facebook or other networking sites. I got up, I went to work, I came home.

It hit me about midday Monday that this is not right. Something is not right. So I called my Doctor and I'm going in tomorrow.

As I think through it, I've been going in a downward spiral for quite a few weeks. I can't get out of bed in the morning. I get lethargic and muddle brained in the afternoon, and when I get home I'm exhausted.

Ding ding ding!!! Lightbulb went off. This is how the bad depression I went through last year started.

I do not want to go through that again. Last fall and winter were so hard. I don't want to be in that place again.

So, I'm hoping that I can go to my (new) primary doctor tomorrow and get something figured out. Cross your fingers.

Oh, and as for my friends proving me wrong? There are 3 who reached out to me when I was at my worst. All three of them felt something was going on, and, each in their own way, sent support my way.

And for that, I'm extremely grateful.

Why being able to compartmentalize can become dangerous and destructive

I'm damn good at compartmentalizing things. I think it's how I cope with being able to do so many things at once. If something pops up and I'm in the middle of something else, I can 'file it away' in a mental filing cabinet to deal with later. This is a very useful tactic for remaining focused on the task at hand.

The pitfall of this is that sometimes I forget there are things I've filed away and need to process and deal with. These are things that are generally more emotional in nature. And then the drawer just bursts open at some random time and everything else in my world just stops as I try to clean up the mess.

I didn't realize I'd been holding back some pretty deep and strong emotional things lately. I know I had made a conscious decision at some point to file this away to deal with when the time was right, but I didn't realize that my brain went on autopilot after that and kept adding to that file. It's like a virus, it lays in wait, quietly attacking and causing damage and is only discovered when it messes stuff up. And the only thing you can do is let it run it's course. I went for a run in the conservancy yesterday. It's the first time in a long time I'd gone for a run there. About 3/4 of the way through my run, all this pent up emotion hit me like a ton of bricks. And I just lost it right there. And I'm still reeling from it.

Looking back at the past few months, I can see some of the signs were there, only I wasn't really paying attention. My eating choices have become more on the poor side lately and my will to workout has fallen to the sidelines. These are usually warning signs for me. I only started recognizing them late this past week. And since running is my time to clear my mind, I think my brain finally put things together for me. I've been binging and reverting to old, comforting habits because I am emotionally stressed. And it all just came up like emotional vomit.

I'm scared. It was at this time last year that these behaviors started to become prevalent and it finally led to me breaking down in my therapists office and being diagnosed with depression. For some reason, even though its my favorite season of the year, Fall and Winter trigger these emotions and behaviors. The medication helped, but because of the therapeutic lag in efficacy, I ended up not feeling better until February. Last Fall and Winter were very very hard on me. It still hurts to even think of how I felt. And I so desperately do not want to experience that again. But I'm very scared that is the path I'm headed down. I'm finding myself stuck in that same mindset: No one cares, everyone has their own burdens and worries and don't want to hear about yours, I don't want to be around people, and yet feel so lonely, what's the point of doing anything productive, or being social, it all just leads to disappointment anyhow.

I'm sure this revelation will come as a surprise to so many people I interact with regularly. I saw an interesting comment today: People think Depression looks like this:

 

When the truth is, the public face of depression looks like this:

Put on a smile and get by so no one realizes how much you are hurting inside.

It's hard to not put the smile on and get by when you feel no one can understand. 

I'm so scared and worried and stressed right now. I don't want to do this again. I don't want to feel this way again.

Hand over the Pumpkin Bread and No on has to get hurt!

I seriously love Pumpkin Everything!

I have Pumpkin chili simmering in the crockpot right now. I know it sounds weird, but the way I make it, it’s a concoction of sweet, spicy, rich yumminess. AND I’ve also just pulled out a batch of Pumpkin Cranberry muffins. Needless to say, my apartment smells AFREAKINMAZING right now!

I love fall. I love everything about fall. I love the sounds, I love the colors, I love the smells. I don’t really know why, but I do. If you think about it, it’s a depressing season. Things are dying, it gets rainy and gloomy, and in this neck of the woods, it gets cold. But damn if it doesn’t make me giddy as all hell!

I like corn mazes, pumpkin patches, hot apple cider with donut holes after said corn maze and/or pumpkin patch, full harvest moons, football (Go Pack!), Fireplaces or bonfires, pumpkin ale, coming in from a good run or walk just a tad chilly and snuggling up in warm soft clothes to get warm.
Everything that comes with fall, I adore.

But of course, this is also the worst time of year for potential binges, too. Because I love fall foods so much, it’s hard not to want to eat them. I already iterated the many things pumpkin, but comfort foods play a big part, too. This is also the best time of year for nice thick ales. And OH! One of my new favorite treats: Trader Joe’s Pumpkin Ice Cream (!!!!) with marshmallow fluff and graham cracker pieces.

I’m really a bit worried about myself. I haven’t done any weighing since, um…June? or somewhere around there. And I don’t want to. I’m not going down that path again. I’m going by how my clothes fit and how I feel. And lately I’ve been overindulging. I can feel it!

So I started logging my food again. I want to take a look at what I’m eating, when, and why to see if I can prevent some binges and depression.

I also started a new strenthtraining program: http://www.bodybuilding.com/guides/female-20to39-fat-loss/training#plan

This thing is kicking my butt! Literally! I did Day 4 yesterday and I am so sore I can barely walk today. But I’m going to do this for 8 weeks and track the weight that I use for the Strength Training exercises and that’s how I’m going to gauge my success. I want to really get into a routine before the snow starts to fall. That way I can rely on some of that routine to get my butt out of bed in the morning and over to the gym!
Oh! Another incentive for making sure I go workout. I got selected to help pilot a new program at work! If I go to the gym 10 times each month for October, November, and December each, my employer will reimburse my monthly gym membership fee. Is that awesome?

Am I really that memorable?

It's a well documented fact that I have a superb memory. Maybe it's all those logic puzzles and crosswords I do. Who knows? But I do have an exceptional memory, which comes in very handy for school and memorizing music. Oh, and for trivia games, although apparently not enough for Star Wars Trivial Pursuit.

Through the years though I've learned that not everyone has the same level of memory. I'm not meaning that as an insult to anyone, not at all. What I mean is that when something internal seems natural to you, you tend to think everyone is the same. So when I would bring up a memory in great detail, I would assume everyone had the same memory with the same recall for details. And then people would look at me like I'm a creepy stalker and say 'how did you know that?' To which I reply, 'I don't know, I'm observant? I just do?'

So I now often assume that people don't have as good a memory as myself. I also assume that I don't cross the minds of people whom I haven't seen, talked to, or interacted with in any way for a few year, even though I remember them.

Ok, so now the events that brought all this up. While attending the alum event at Clarke University this weekend, I was extremely surprised by the number of people who recognized me. Especially considering that, well, I've lost 100lbs since college days and most people I haven't seen in a long time have no clue who I am.

The front desk receptionist knew who I was the minute I walked in. Yes, it's the same woman, and I was very shocked that she knew who I was! The head of food services and his assistant were also standing there and Mary Ellen pulled out the Stalker Book (I'm sure Clarkies fondly remember the stalker book, which, by the way, no longer exists) and showed them my pic. They BOTH said 'oh yeah! Of course I remember you! How are you!?!'  Then there were the alums who went to school at the same time I did, but I didn't really know or spend time with. They also greeted me by name and asked about me. (This was before I put my name tag on).

And so I find myself asking 'What did I do that so many people remember me?' I don't remember doing anything truly spectacular in my college years. Unless you count the night of consuming 9 long islands (of which I have very little memory). I certainly never won any awards, or achieved any distinguishing positions within any student organizations. I just remember being myself, almost the same person I am now. Except I'm more outspoken now and really care even less what people thing of anything I say.

I still find myself not quite believing they all remembered me. I think it's a conspiracy. I think they all got together and drew my name out of a hat and said 'let's make her super paranoid!'

Or maybe not.

let the games begin!!!

I've been blogging for a while now, but decided it's time to move it around to a less juvenile venue. Hopefully, I mean. If you are interested in anything I've written previously, look here.

Tumblr is awesome and what not, but it functions more as a social network and not a true blog spot. So here I am now. And I'm blaming Angel for putting me here. Actually, I'm giving her credit, because she started it and, well, she's awesome.

And now, about last night:

A surreal night

Last night I was at my Alma Mater for an Alumni concert. The man who first told me I would be a singer retired after 45 years at Clarke. The concert was comprised of the current Collegiate singers who performed 2 pieces on their own, and then the over 130 alums going as far back as graduates from the class of 1968 sang 6 pieces.
The turnout was huge! And it was such a very touching concert. It was very informal, too. It was quite a contrast from all the concerts I had sung during my 4 years with that choir. Those were always serious, professional events. This concert was full of laughter, mischief, and tears. The Maestro’s children sang in the choir, and his son did the solo for ‘In dat great gettin’ up mornin’. His 2 granddaughters did the opening solo for ‘May the Lord Bless You’. Maestro for many years had a choral/professional relationship with The Little Singers of Tokyo in Japan. They skyped in and performed a song as a tribute to him.
I am not a publicly emotional person. I’m a stoic who saves my tears for private. But I couldn’t help but have my eyes well up at the sheer outpouring of gratitude, grace, and love that happened last night.
Moments like these are too few and far between. For one day, nothing else mattered. It became a communion of appreciation and respect. This man impacted so many lives throughout almost half a century. He touched so many people with his teachings. He didn’t just teach about music, he taught about life.
My own story with Maestro starts in the Spring of 1999. As I was, like most High School Seniors, trying to figure out what I wanted to do with the next 4 years of my life. From the time I was in 3rd Grade I’d always been involved in music. I loved it, I excelled at it. I decided I wanted to be a music teacher. I expressed interest in Clarke because my aunt had gone there. I put that little school code on my ACT test as a place to have the results sent. Since I scored pretty darn well, they sent me a letter offering me a scholarship that basically amounted to 1 years worth of tuition. So I took a tour.
In order to be accepted into the Music Ed program, you have to audition both instrumentally and vocally. At this time, I was much more instrumental than vocal. While I knew I could sing, I had a large awkward voice that was hard to blend in with others.
My audition for the instrumental went just fine. Earlier that Spring I’d achieved a 1st in Solo/Ensemble with my Telemann Suite for Flute so I knew that would be ok. When I got to the voice audition, I gave it a good try. I knew it would be good enough to get into the program, and that’s all I worried about. After I finished my song, Maestro just sat back in his chair with his arms folded and looked at me and said ‘You’re going to be a singer’.
‘Yeah right’ I thought as I left that day. I had accomplished my mission to be accepted into the program and that’s all I was worried about.
Over the course of the next four years, Maestro showed me that I truly do have a talent in singing. What I thought was an awkward large voice turned out to be an ugly duckling. This turns out to be something that is typical of my voice type. The voice is awkward and hard to work with in the teen years, but really matures during the singer’s late 30’s and early 40’s. Halfway into my Sophomore year, I dropped the Education part and became a straight Music Major.
This choice led me down many paths, and I wouldn’t be where I am today if it weren’t for that choice. I sometimes wonder what would have happened had I stuck with my Music Education degree. Would I have gone to live in NYC? Would I have gone crazy dealing with kids and wondering why I was unhappy all the time? Would I have gained the introspection that has driven me for the past 5 years to become a healthier, happier person? Would I have eventually found the right career for me that makes me excessively happy as I have recently? Who knows.
But I know one thing for certain. Maestro believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. He challenged me, and sometimes I really hated him for that. But looking back, I can see that it was all designed to truly guide me down the path I now walk. The immeasurable lessons I learned from this man, both within academia and outside of it, have helped me to hold true to myself for the past decade.
Which brings me back to why I had originally wanted to be a teacher. Good teachers truly impact lives. And I don’t think that was anywhere more obvious than it was to me last night. Those 130 alumni, plus the many more who wanted to be there and couldn’t were all there for the same reason I was. To honor a man who had taught us all so much about who we are and what we can do.
I only hope that when my day comes, that I can honestly say I’ve touched as many lives and helped to shape as many futures.

Congrats on a wonderful career Maestro. And enjoy your retirement!