Checking in on Mental Health

May, Mental Health Awareness Month, has already come and gone for this year. It was comforting to hear so many people—from celebrities to us “normal folk”—sharing their struggles. It seemed like every time I had the tv on, someone was sharing their story…and I loved it! The more we can give a voice to mental health issues, the quicker we will stop the stigma.

I remember watching an interview (I wish I could remember who it was or where I saw it—maybe Entertainment Tonight?) with a celebrity who was asked how she knew she needed to get help for her mental health; she said it was when she was too comfortable with the thought of being dead. I felt that in my gut. Why? Because that’s one of my “checks.”

When my mental health is “good” (whatever that really means), I want to light the world on fire. My internal compass is pointing towards a future of a million ideas. I want to save the world and do all the things. When my mental health is “bad,” it feels like those matches I would be using to light the world on fire are soaking in a puddle. My compass has been shattered by a sledgehammer. Not only do I not know where I’m going, I don’t even feel like I know where I am now. This was how I felt for about a year until I went to my doctor about four months ago.

This is the first time—in about two decades of being treated for anxiety and depression—that I’ve ever had a doctor work with me to find not only the right dose of medication, but also find the right combination of meds to successfully manage both the depression and the anxiety. I’ve never tried a “combo” before and now that I’ve been on it for a few weeks I feel like my matches are drying out. My compass is still a bit cracked, but I feel like I at least have all the pieces of it gathered back together and at the repair shop.

What is “good” mental health and how can one check in on themselves? For me, there are some key things I’ve learned about myself that I am able do when my anxiety and depression are under control. Some of those things are:

◦ Getting out of bed

◦ Taking a shower

◦ Making a to-do list

◦ Updating my planner

◦ Making any future plans

◦ Wanting to go out (shopping, movie, etc)

◦ Cleaning/household chores without feeling totally overwhelmed

◦ Knowing that being alive is not something I’m going to change

When I am unable to do some of these things, I know it’s time to seek help—especially the last one. What would be on your list of checks? If you are struggling with anything that would be on your list, please let someone know—a partner, a friend, a doctor—and keep speaking up until you get the help you need.

Asking for help is hard, but it’s so worth it. If your matches are soggy or your compass is cracked, you deserve to have those fixed. Keep holding onto hope. You are worth it.

Super Easy Meals: Pulled Pork and Chicken & Gravy

https://youtube.com/watch?v=Mdmlg_WX9QI

Pulled Pork:

1.5 – 2 lbs boneless ribs

1 bottle BBQ sauce

1 onion, sliced (optional)

1/4 – 1/2 cup brown sugar (optional)

Put all ingredients in crock pot on low for at least 6 hours.

Chicken & Gravy:

1 – 2 lbs boneless skinless chicken breasts

1 can cream of chicken soup

Chicken gravy mix (enough to make 2 cups of gravy; 2 small or 1 large packet)

1 – 2 cups chicken broth or water

Put all ingredients in crock pot and cook on low for at least 6 hours. Serve with mashed potatoes or rice.

The Overdose

If you talk to my 8 year old today, he will tell you, “Mom made we overdose last night.” Technically, this is true. But as that guy whose name I can’t think of right now used to say, “Now…the rest of the story.”

My son has never voluntarily slept. Ever. When he was a newborn, he would nap for five minutes at a time, and that’s if I was lucky. I remember once he slept long enough for me to shampoo AND condition. I remember this…eight years later…because of how odd it was…and how awesome my hair felt for those few extra minutes until there was spit-up in it again.

Some time back, his doctor recommended we try melatonin before bed. I kid you not, the child himself started calling it his “antidote.” He takes 5 mg and 30-45 minutes later he is in dreamland…and I’m watching a show with the F-word in it.

We are coming to the end of one melatonin bottle and just got another, but it’s a different brand. One bottle is 1 gummy = 5 mg and the other bottle is 2 gummies = 5 mg. I got them mixed up and ended up giving him 2 gummies for a total 10 mg. After we figured out what I did, you would have thought I gave him a line of cocaine. Dude, it was an extra melatonin gummy. I don’t think we need to go to the Emergency Room.

Somehow he managed to survive the night and he is his normal self today. Hopefully I can lay low from drug enforcement until his memory fades.

I don’t mean to make light of the subject. I have never done an illegal drug in my life, and my mom was a nurse so I grew up knowing you absolutely follow the instructions on the bottle (and go wash your hands…again…and use soap). But I don’t feel super bad about one extra gummy. When talking to my oldest son’s doctor about melatonin at his last visit, she said some people take half a bottle to get to sleep. Could she have been exaggerating? Yes (and I hope so because that would cost a small fortune over the course of…just one freaking day).

One extra gummy? I think he’ll be okay. I’ll save the mommy guilt for next time…which I’m sure is coming very soon.

Happy Mother’s Day?

Mother’s Day is a very weird holiday for me. I love being able to share it with my boys. Even though they are getting older, I still treasure the homemade cards they make me, filled with little drawings of them doing household chores they’ll never do in real life. This year they showered me with gifts including breakfast in bed, fancy cupcakes, a Schitt’s Creek mug and sticker, and a towel that says “I freaking love cats!” I also got time to watch the last few episodes of Schitt’s Creek I hadn’t seen yet, and now I’ve finally stopped crying and mumbling about how David and Patrick are my favorite couple in the history of forever.

After breakfast and gift opening, my husband asked if I wanted to go to the cemetery to “visit” my mom. I answered, “I don’t know.” Here I sit, several hours later, and still don’t know. I hate going to the cemetery. I wear a bracelet with some of her ashes in it everyday so I don’t necessarily feel any closer to her when there’s just more of her ashes in a box under my feet. I want to go to her house with a cake the boys decorated and eat grilled brats from the 100-pack she got on sale at Sam’s Club and give her a huge hug and a mushy card I got at Dollar Tree. I don’t want to look at her name on a gravestone with her date of death now over a decade in the past.

The first few years after she died, I hated Mother’s Day. Then, I started to tolerate it. Now, I somewhat enjoy it again. I have my boys (husband and sons) to thank for that. They give me the perfect balance of love and space on that day. Actually, they do that every day. They are the reason I wake up every morning. In my darkest moments, it’s their love that shines the light to show me I’m needed. They make this mom feel special everyday…even if it’s just to tell me how great I happen to make their toast or how much I’m improving at playing Super Smash Bros. (reality: I’m not). Hopefully these are the happy memories they will carry of me when I won’t be there to celebrate with them on Mother’s Days…long into the future I hope.

So yes, I will find the “happy” on this day, on Mother’s Days, and in all the days. It’s what my mom would want for me and it’s definitely what I want for my boys. It’s what I want for all of you, too. Happy Today!

Anxiety Adventure

I went on an adventure today! And by adventure, I mean I went to Target. And by Target, I mean I had to pick up prescriptions at the CVS inside Target. But the greatest thing happened: the pharmacist said there was another prescription they could refill for me while I was there…if I didn’t mind waiting. Um, take your sweet time, my new favorite human! Don’t mind me if I accidentally on purpose knock a few dozen things on the floor with my purse that you need to pick up before you fill my bottle (just kidding; I’d feel so guilty I’d clean it up myself and buy the pharmacist Starbucks as an apology…while I was crying). I was at Target, alone and unsupervised. I don’t know why Target is like Disney World for moms (at least this mom), but it. was. epic.

The first thing I did was grab a bottle of Excedrin because welcome to my life. Then I tossed in a can of spray paint to finish a project with my kitchen island chairs. To super spice things up, I bought the new Dawn dish spray because if it works anything like it does in the commercial, I may fall in love harder than I already am with Magic Erasers. In another exciting turn of events, they had Command hanger thingies 70% off and for a deal like that I can definitely find something that needs to be attached to a wall.

Then the saddest thing happened. I got a text that the prescription was ready. I headed to the pharmacy, got my meds, and said good-bye to my favorite bullseye.

Why was this such an adventure? I honestly can’t remember the last time I left the house by myself. I rarely leave the house at all these days, but today I got in the car and turned the key and drove myself to Target. Yeah, it was to pick up medicine for my kiddo, but normally I’d wait for my husband to go get it. I might ride along, but I’d still be more apt to wait in the car than go in the store. I’m not sure what gave me the push to go out by myself, but I’m glad I did. It felt really good. I enjoyed wandering down the candle aisle and not perusing the Pokemon cards. I was able to pick out new undies for the youngest by looking at size and price, not what character was printed on the butt. It was a magical experience.

Am I cured of my anxiety of driving and getting in an accident and, well, all of the things that could go wrong going to the store by myself? No, not even close. But I feel better about the thought of doing it again, and I’ve come to learn it doesn’t matter how fast I’m going as long as I’m moving in the right direction. Today was the right direction.