Flexing Your Mental Muscles

The other day I read an article from Forbes called "Mentally Strong People: The 13 Things They Avoid." The article was hugely popular and was shared like crazy on social media. I read it when Healthy Place (one of my favorite mental health websites) posted it on their Facebook page. You can read the article and form your own opinion about mental strength. The main reason I mentioned it here is because it made me start thinking about the concept of being "mentally strong."

What exactly does "mentally strong" mean? Does it mean you're smart? Does it mean you're in control of your emotions? Does it mean you'll be more successful, more happy, more capable if you're "mentally strong"? And, exactly who decides what it means to be "mentally strong"?

I decided to come up with my own definition. And, here's what I think.

Mentally strong people get out of bed every morning and put one foot in front of the other, even when they're so anxious they feel like their hearts will come out of their chests. They continue through the day even when their thoughts won't stop racing around in their brains. They go to their therapists and talk about things that scare them, that depress them. They use the tools their therapists teach them, even when it seems like they don't work. They take the medicines their doctors prescribe, even when they don't like the side effects. They keep trying, keep getting up, keep going no matter how hard it is. When they feel better, they celebrate. When anxiety or depression sets in again, they still get out of bed in the morning. When it's so bad they can't get out of bed, they remind themselves that it won't be so bad tomorrow and they'll be able to get up again. They do whatever it takes to keep themselves safe from the frightening, depressing, anxious thoughts that run through their heads. They hang on to the memory of the days when they felt a little less anxious, a little less depressed. And, then, they get out of bed again and put one foot in front of the other. And, eventually, they feel better.

To me, mental strength has less to do with the characteristics of people who achieve what our society calls success and more to do with living your life the best way you're able. It has to do with trying new things when the old ones aren't working. It has to do with going forward no matter how much you want to stop. It means you never, ever, give up.

How Do You Feel About the New Year?

New year. Fresh start. Resolutions. Hmmm. It seems this is the time of year when people are setting goals, planning, and looking forward. For me, it can be a time of sadness. I tend to look at the year that has passed. It makes me feel I'm running out of time to accomplish what I want to do, so I'm overwhelmed by all I didn't get done. Then, focusing on new goals becomes exhausting. And, there I go again, with the ruts in my brain looking at the gloomy side of things. So, what can I do to cope with the anxiety this thinking creates?

After looking through my mental box of tips and tools, I came up with a plan to cope with my new year's anxiety. I decided to live in the present. Anxiety (depression, too) can be caused by living in the past or worrying about the future. So, when I have thoughts about the things I didn't accomplish, I can put each thought on a leaf and let it float down the river and out of my head, figuratively speaking. When I start to worry about how I'll get new things done, I can remind myself of this quote from Thomas Jefferson. "How much pain they have cost us, the evils which have never happened." I can get up from my wall of worry and over-thinking and get busy with a simple task. Almost every time I focus on a task, I notice my anxiety is less, or even goes away, because it's very hard to think about two things at once. (Side note-that's why multi-tasking is actually almost impossible.)

I'm already feeling better, because now I have a plan. A very simple plan that is SMART. Strategic, measurable, actionable, relevant, and timed, as all good plans should be!

I'd love to know how you're coping with the coming New Year. Do you have a plan? How do you feel? I hope to see some comments, and if you have any tools that work for you, please include those, too!

Rather than saying 'Happy New Year," I think I'll say to my readers, "Here's to a new year that's right for you, with less anxiety and more peace."

Good Grief

For those of us with anxiety and/or depression, grief can be hard. Unbearable even. It can send us into a downward spiral that we want to avoid at all cost. So, I typically choose not to grief. Sounds like the perfect solution, right? Well, not actually. Grief is part of the healing process that needs to occur after a loss. Any kind of loss, whether it's the death of a loved one, the end of a relationship, or losing a job, can and should cause us to grieve. Clearly, I'm not an expert on grief, but I used some tools that helped me when we chose to have our beloved black lab, Coal, put down the Friday before Thanksgiving.

Most of us aren't comfortable with death, but talking or hearing about it creates true anxiety for me. Things that I can't control trigger anxiety in me, and death is something I feel like I have no control over. So, any reminder of our mortality can create anxiety for me. So, when it became evident Coal's condition was deteriorating, I began to worry. It reminded me we all will die and that I will die. It made me sad because we'd had Coal since the day he was born. He'd been part of our life for almost 17 years. It reminded me of when we had to have his mama put down. It reminded me of when we took my own mama off life support. It made me think of my beloved Nanny's death. Anxiety mounted. I don't like like to think about people or pets after they die. Remember, I don't grieve, so I don't reach a point where I can remember them with any joy or peace. I don't understand people who tell stories and talk about those they've lost. I just try not to feel anything. If I start feeling anything I might not be able to stop. I might just grieve forever. The pain won't stop. I'll be stuck with fear and sadness forever.

When we began to talk about having Coal put down, the sense of dread and anxiety started. But, this time, I started using some tools and techniques to help me. Reality based thinking helped. I felt like I had no control over the situation, but was that really true? I could make choices about Coal's comfort, quality of life, and how he was euthanized. I could practice acceptance by living more comfortably in the unpredictability of life and acquiring a willingness to take life as it comes. I could remind myself that feelings don't last forever and that I can let go of my sadness. And, I could practice gratitude by being thankful for all the years we had with our sweet old doggie.

As I watched our adult son say good-bye to a dog he'd known most of his life, I cried, but was able to remember the two of them playing together instead of shutting down the memory for fear of the pain. As I talked with our daughter who lives in another city, I cried, but believed her when she said we were making the right decision. As we watched Coal peacefully slip from this life, I cried, and was a little less afraid that I would cry forever. And, as I write this post, I'm crying, but know that the tears will stop, that the feelings will pass, and that grief can be good.

Hello Again!

Well, it's been a while since I last posted, but I was inspired today by a friend who also has anxiety and depression. I was telling her about a three week intensive outpatient therapy program I did back in the summer called Clarity. Connecting Lives; Activating Resources; Integrating the Total You. It was a life changer. I don't actually like the phrase "life changer." It's overly dramatic and overused. But, Clarity really did give me some tools that changed the way I manage my anxiety and it has decreased to a much more comfortable level. (As if there's anything comfortable about anxiety disorder...) So, it was a life changer for me.

My therapist recommended the program because I was making a transition from employment to going back to school and, as much as I wanted to make this change, it was creating depression and anxiety. And, being me, I was in denial that the transition would cause me stress. I tend to think I should sail through everything without a bump. "I can handle anything!" "This is no big deal!" "I'm looking forward to this, why should I be anxious?" Wrong!! Like everyone, transitions (good or bad) create some anxiety. And, for me, that's usually not a little anxiety. I like to do it up right, with BIG anxiety, toss in some depression for good measure, and all the while tell myself I should be ashamed for not being able to handle it.

Many of the things I learned while in the Clarity program I already knew, but wasn't putting into practice. But, there was something about going to therapy three hours a day, four days a week, that made me focus and realize I could be so much better if I used all my tools. And, I picked up some new skills, too. The program is in three segments, one per week-Safety, Recovery Thinking, and Communication. Each day reminded me of the tools I already had and gave me some new ones to add. Here are some of the things I learned in Clarity:

Trust myself and other people who deserve my trust. It's pretty hard not to feel anxious if you don't think there's anyone you can trust.

Take good care of my body. Eating, sleeping, exercising, relaxing, in the proper amounts, all play a
big role in managing anxiety.

Deliberately change my emotional climate. I can choose to change how I react to the way I feel about things and I can change my thoughts.

Use grounding to detach from emotional pain and anxiety. There are three major ways of grounding-mental, physical, and soothing. I'll cover those is a future blog post. This was huge for me!

Thoughts and feelings are liars.

Constantly feed my soul. For me, this is deepening my relationship with God. This program isn't religion-based, but spirituality, however you view that, is part of it.

Feel gratitude daily. My life seems pretty awesome when I list out the specific things I have,
materially and otherwise.

Now that I'm back to blogging, I'll share more about some of these tools in future posts. I'm looking forward to your comments, and I'm glad to be back!

I'm Leaving on a Jet Plane...

In my imagination I'm a world traveler. I confidently jump on planes, trains, boats, and automobiles wearing a variety of cute travel outfits, appropriate for my exotic destinations. I stroll through the airport pulling my classic Hartmann tweed suitcase looking seasoned, confident, and a little excited about my next adventure. 

OK, here's the real world scenario. I enter the airport in a bundle of anxiety, heart racing, sweaty palms, obsessively checking my purse to be sure I have Xanax. I shakily make my way through checking my bag (OK, it's a Samsonite, not a Hartmann) and on through security I go, not like a world traveller headed on her next adventure, but like a woman walking to her cell on death row. The only thing similar to my imagination is the cute travel outfit appropriate to my destination. I have my rituals and they have to be done and somehow in my jittery mind I feel a tiny measure of comfort and protection. First water fountain inside security is where I take my Xanax. Don't want to take it too late. I want it to be working when I get on that plane. Don't want to take it too early. It might start wearing out before the flight is over. I get a decaf coffee. I wait till they are almost ready to call my flight and go to the bathroom. My rituals are done. I pray and walk down the jetway like a condemned woman. I fervently hope that my favorite seat by the window, just behind the wing, is available. My heart is pounding. I'm not sure if I'm more worried about the plane crashing or having a heart attack while in the air with no fully qualified medical personnel to save me. My terror begins to subside as I use all the tools I have to manage panic, but by the time we push back I'm sweaty palmed again, my heart is racing and negative talk is racing in my head. We roll down the runway and we're off, with my heart in my throat. When, miraculously, I don't have a heart attack and the plane doesn't crash on take off, I settle down. Oddly, I'm not very anxious once we're flying unless I see or hear something I think is weird. When they say we can turn on mobile devices and the flight attendants begin beverage service, my anxiety thinks everything is normal. 

Most of the time I fly with my husband. He's awesome. Before our trip he books the reservations, checks us in online, gets the boarding passes. He knows all the preparation increases my anxiety. He pats my hand on the way to the airport, understands my weird rituals, and supports me if I freak out. He never asks me to sit in the center seat even though he prefers the aisle. He knows I like the window and sits in the dreaded center seat so I can be in my safe spot.

We were on our way to Tampa to get on a cruise ship when I wrote this. I don't really love cruise ships, either, which added to my anxiety. I feel a little confined and think cruises are a bit cheesy. But, this was a family cruise with 15 of my in-laws, and we knew it would make my mother-in-law super happy if we went, so I decided to go. But, managing the anxiety wasn't easy. The night before our trip, I lay in bed for two hours with my heart pounding. Two rounds of Progressive Muscle Relaxation plus a guided sleep meditation and my pulse was still 92. I forced myself to stop obsessively checking my pulse. Finally, I drifted off to strange dreams of flying to Alaska in a tiny plane. 

After a rocky morning of getting ready to board the plane, and a short, uneventful flight with my sweet husband, we landed. I had used all my coping techniques, I arrived unscathed, and as we headed to baggage claim, I felt like that confident world traveller who's living within me.

P.S. I few weeks after writing this, I found Tim Benjamin's website Fearofflyingschool.com with tips to reduce anxiety when flying. I thought my readers would like the tips!

And So It Began

Panic attack: "A panic attack is a sudden episode of intense fear that triggers severe physical reactions when there is no real danger or apparent cause. Panic attacks can be very frightening. When panic attacks occur, you might think you're losing control, having a heart attack or even dying."  Mayo Clinic

I still remember my first panic attack. I was on a date in a restaurant. There were several of us. I don't remember who my date was, or who the other people were. But, I remember the panic attack. I thought I was dying. I didn't want anyone else to know. I went to the bathroom. I was sick to my stomach. I forced myself to leave the bathroom when I didn't die and I acted like nothing was wrong. I was 21 years old. It was the beginning of my jittery life.

Depression and anxiety have been part of my life for 33 years. Sometimes it's barely been there. One time it was so bad I was in a psychiatric hospital for  two and a half weeks. It always centers around thinking I'm going to die. I'm going to die before I get everything done.

Even after 33 years, and countless hours of therapy, and drugs that work well, my logical mind and my anxious mind don't work together sometimes. I'll use every tool I've learned, I'll know I'm having a panic attack, but my anxious, obsessive thoughts take over and I'm convinced I'm dying. It's the most frustrating aspect of my mental illness. Knowing something is true, but not believing it.

It's taken  my whole adult life to learn to manage this illness. I thought for so long that if I could just figure out what happened in my past to make me so anxious, that I would be cured. No more panic attacks! I'd be like "everyone else." I was convinced if I just got to the bottom of what happened in my childhood that makes me depressed and anxious, that it would go away. In spite of several excellent therapists who helped me learn behaviors to manage the anxiety, I continued to believe that if I could pinpoint what happened that caused me to feel anxious and depressed, it would miraculously stop. I didn't want to manage my anxiety. I wanted to be well!

Then, there's medication. I've been on anti-depressants for most of my adult life. There have been some great ones, there was one that had weird withdrawal symptoms if I took it even a couple of hours late, there have been some that helped the depression but weren't so great with anxiety. There have been times when I thought I didn't need medication anymore. And, finally, five years ago, after going off medication and having one of the worst periods of depression and anxiety I've ever had, I accepted it. I will never be able to be off medication. So, then I wanted the medication to take care of my problem. I wanted to take my medicine and be well. I thought, hoped, wished, that I could be like "normal people" if I just faithfully took my medicine.

A few months ago I was going through a transition in my life. My medicine wasn't doing all I wanted it to do, which was to allow me to breeze through this change. Then, I had another bump in the road, then another, smaller bump, but a bump nonetheless. Anxiety, depression, panic attacks! Extra visits to the therapist. And, in the midst of a therapy session, something I'd heard a million times before suddenly made sense. I need to take care of myself all the time, not just during the times when I'm overwhelmed, anxious, and depressed by life.  Life is full of transitions and bumps in the road. But if I take care of myself every day, when the bumps come along, they won't be quite as scary.

I have mental illness. I won't be "cured." I can have a fantastic life. I can be a happy, productive, successful person who happens to have an illness. And, that requires me to take care of myself. To believe that I'm worthwhile enough to make self-care a priority. And, to finally admit, out loud to other people, that I have a jittery life.