Niki’s Path to Peace

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about

I’m a mom of four boys and wife of 12 years who lives in Southern Indiana.
  • I Married a Monster Part 3

    I Married a Monster Part 3

    I thought being a bartender would be a perfect job. I would get to interact with other people and have tips in my pocket every time I worked so that I could get diapers, formula, etc. However, that’s not how it worked. Instead, he would steal it out of my purse at night while I was sleeping and go buy drugs and alcohol. Many times I had to count on my mom and dad to buy diapers and formula for my two sweet babies.

    Now that I was a bartender, he started coming into the bar to drink. And I would serve him because I had no choice. Either serve him, know what kind of mood he was in, go home and get beat or don’t serve him, piss him off, he goes somewhere else and gets drunk, he picks me up, we go home and he still beats me. Better the monster you know and can see at that point. At least that was what I thought at the time.

    At this time he had had one DUI, driving home for Q Masters with me in the car also drunk. At that point, I drank to dull the pain when he would hit me. I myself, at that time, became an alcoholic. I wasn’t proud of it by any means, in fact it’s embarrassing to admit, but I said at the very beginning that I would tell you the good, bad, and ugly, and here is one of those things.

    The plus to working at the bar was that I met this nice, attractive man (who was also married) who played pool and darts. We didn’t talk unless he was asking me for a Coke but we did play pool against each other every now and then in our pool league. He was so nice that it made me wonder what it would be like to be married to someone like that. I want to be VERY clear that we never even conversed, other than asking for a Coke, but spoiler alert, this guy was Aaron.

    But back to the beginning of Part 1 where I had a concussion and I was looking at my children wondering how the hell I got to where I was. That, my friends, that night was my catalyst.

    That night we had been at the bar where I worked. I had worked the day shift and he had come to pick me up and, or course, we drank for awhile.

    Eventually we left and he was driving. We didn’t even get through the strip mall that the bar was in before we started fighting. He pulled over and immediately started punching me in the back of the head.

    Luckily, two Navy guys that I had served earlier walked by while he was doing it. They stopped and called the police. They told him what they had done in an attempt to stop him from punching me but it didn’t help. They did stay there until the police came and they talked to them. At some point, he threw the keys to the truck out in the parking lot. (Side note: I never found them. I think they fell in a drain.)

    A big group of older teenage boys also stopped when they saw what he was doing and they got him to start paying attention to them (he was mouthing off to them) and he stopped punching me in the back of the head. The police came and arrested him (he got his second DUI that night) and I’ll never forget what one of the police officers said to me. He said, “A buddy of mine was at your house last week when he threw you into the entertainment center. Once they start this, they don’t stop. It only gets worse.”

    I was so embarrassed. Embarrassed that I had been the talk of police officers and embarrassed that I had let it happen again.

    But I still didn’t leave… although, unknowingly, it put me closer to cutting ties.

    Stayed tuned for Part 4 next week!

  • I Married a Monster Part 2

    I Married a Monster Part 2

    Not surprisingly, the drinking and smoking weed continued. And, in fact, he was also doing cocaine, something I wouldn’t find out until after we divorced. Every time he got drunk he would hit me, throw stuff at me, or shove me. Then he’d say sorry and I would forgive him. One big circle of dysfunction.

    And then I had my first beautiful baby boy. I was enamored! The birth was easy, peasy, lemon squeezy. He came into the world less than 5 pounds with his umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. They got it off and hit him with the oxygen twice and he pinked right up. My first amazing baby boy was here and I couldn’t be happier.

    During the time in the hospital, he was still smoking weed and drinking. He wasn’t much help at all but I didn’t care. As a first-time mom I wanted to do all the things.

    When Kavin and I came home, he was going through 40 ounce beers like crazy and smoking a ridiculous amount of weed. I ignored it all and put all my attention on my new baby boy, which he didn’t like very much.

    I couldn’t get the hang of breastfeeding with Kavin so we bottle fed him. That took a lot of stress off me because anyone could feed him which would help me get a little time to do the things I needed to do like shower and such.

    So “Dad”, and I use this term VERY loosely, would sometimes feed Kavin at night. That should be great, right? But unfortunately it wasn’t. I would wake up to Kavin crying, and I would go to the bassinet to get him, but he wouldn’t be there. He was definitely in the room, but “Dad” was nowhere to be seen. Many times I would find Kavin on the floor on “Dad’s” side of the bed or in the rocking chair in our room. To say the least, it scared the crap out of me.

    Then a couple of months later, I found out I was pregnant again. The night I told him, he pinned me under our queen mattress because he got mad at something. What a great way to celebrate such a joyous occassion.

    There was another time when I was pregnant that he was giving Kavin a bath in the bathroom at the top of the stairs. He had walked away from the bath tub, turning his back on it and I said something to him about not doing that. He got angry and the look in his eyes told me that he was thinking about pushing me down the stairs. Thank goodness he didn’t. At the time I was 6 months pregnant.

    But, exactly one year and fifteen days later, after Kavin was born, another little boy stole a piece of my heart. In the midst of the abuse, I gave birth to my second son, Logan. His birth was not as easy as Kavin’s, but my second little bundle of joy came into the world again, weighing less than 5 pounds. We’re talking teenie tiny babies, that even preemie clothes swallowed up. I breastfed for awhile making me the only one that could feed him. Therefore I knew he was safe at night, because I was the one taking him out of the bassinet and putting him in it.

    But the beatings still continued.

    It was shortly after Logan was born that he began to complain that I wasn’t working and contributing to our family. Not like taking care of two kids under the age of two was not a job in itself. But alas, I looked around and they were looking for a bartender at the bar we frequented, which was right around the corner from the house. I applied and got the job.

    Stay tuned for Part 3 next week!

  • I Married A Monster Part 1

    I Married A Monster Part 1

    I lay on the couch, my head pounding and my neck so stiff I can barely move it from the concussion I sustained the night before, starting at my two little boys wondering how the hell I got to this point in my life at such a young age. At twenty-two, I was the mom of two boys under the age of two and married to a man (I use that term loosely) who physically, mentally, and emotionally abused me every chance he got. Every minute of every hour of every day, I was walking on eggshells, hoping not to trigger another episode.

    I met him in an AOL chat room, back when that was a thing. He sent me pictures and I figured “What the hell, I’ll meet up with him.” Of course now, I’ve watched enough ID TV to know how stupid this was but I was eighteen-years-old and I did some dumb stuff (haven’t we all).

    He was twenty-three years old when we met and he had no driver’s license. I drove over to his house and picked him up. We hug out all night into the morning talking. The only thing he told me that I thought was negative was that he got high. But so what, right? So I started hanging out with him daily. Now I see it as clingy, but at that time I saw it as he really liked me.

    Stupid, stupid, stupid me didn’t see the red flags then. If I had, I would have high-tailed it in the opposite direction. But I didn’t and so it didn’t take long for the two of us to get married and for me to get pregnant. This is a way better marriage than the pyromaniac, right? Nope! Wrong yet again, Niki!

    I remember the first huge issue we ever had. It wasn’t a physical altercation, but it was a catalyst for what was to come.

    His dad got minor league baseball tickets from his work and asked us if we’d like to go. I was pregnant and stuck in the house all day so I was like “Heck yeah, let’s go! It’ll be fun.” But it ended up NOT being fun AT ALL!

    My ex drank a lot by that time (something he neglected to tell me at the beginning of things), and this night was no different. Since I was pregnant, and underage, I was the designated driver. During the ride home, he threw up in my car because he was so drunk. I was LIVID! I told him that I thought it was ridiculous that he was that drunk and how I didn’t think it was fair that I would have to clean it when we got home.

    I don’t remember everything he said to me that night but that was the first time he told me I was worthless. That I was lucky to be with him because no other man would deal with a nag like me. That I- yes, I- was the reason that he drank so much.

    I couldn’t believe it! Who the hell tells someone that they supposedly love, and who’s pregnant with their child all of this. Plus, I couldn’t figure out for the life of me what I had done so wrong to make him drink the way he did. I cried all the way home. Once we arrived at the house, I cleaned the car with the help of my mom and hurried to bed.

    The next morning he woke me up.

    “Good morning,” he said with a smile on his face.

    “Good morning,” I said rather shortly.

    “What’s wrong?” he asked.

    “Don’t you remember last night?”

    “Not really,” he said.

    So I told him all about how he got wasted, threw up in the car, told me I was worthless, and then how I had to clean the car.

    “I’m so, so, so, sorry,” he said. “It will never happen again.”

    And I believed it. I accepted his apology. I chalked it up as a big mistake, one that wouldn’t happen again.

    But boy was I wrong, and boy did it get much, much worse…

    Stay tuned for Part 2 next week

  • My Parents

    My Parents

    My parents had a tumultuous relationship. It seemed like no one was very happy most of the time. My mom didn’t want me to come from a broken home. But which is worse? Staying or leaving? Both have pros and cons but one has to eventually win, if that’s what you want to call it.

    My mom constantly walked on eggshells around my dad and to be quite frank so did I. He wasn’t physically abusive but he was nasty in his own way. He would wait until one of us was out of the room and then he would be nasty to the one that was still in the room. He’d say things like “I know you wish I would die” or “Why didn’t you do x, y, and z?” It never ending.

    I’d stick up for my mom when I could but most of the time it made things worse. And how much was I really doing at 6, 7, and 8 years old? Not much I can tell you that.

    My dad was just an unhappy man. If a man can have a resting bitch face, he had one. I guess it came with his upbringing, being the only boy of seven children. I’m sure he wasn’t shown much love. Hell, he lied about his age when he was sixteen-years-old just so he could join the Navy and get away from his family. From what I know his house was really strict. No wonder he ended up the way he was, but that’s still no excuse to talk to people like they area piece of crap.

    And the saddest part was that everything he went through he put on me. If I did something he thought was wrong, I’d get a whipping to where I had his handprint, whelps included, on my leg. And then the next day I would get a new barbie, candy, or most of the time both. I honestly thought even into my twenties and thirties that my dad didn’t love me. I thought he didn’t care. Now, because of therapy, I know he just didn’t know how to show love so the bad things far outweighed the good in my mind. It’s unfortunate.

    Do I remember good times? Yes, but I have to search for them. I have to make a conscientious effort to wade through the bad memories and specifically look for the good memories. It’s work, let me tell you. A couple years back, my therapist challenged me to make a list of all the good memories I had with my dad and I made a list of about 40 happy times. I wish I could put my hands on the notebook that has that list in it but I wasn’t as much into bullet journaling as I am now and it just went into a random notebook. I’m going to end up making a whole new list and I’m hoping I come up with even more good memories.

    Most of my good memories are from when I was younger, when I got to be a teenager and moved over to public school, that’s when my dad said all our problems started. Sorry to say this Daddy, but we had problems WAY before then.

    I was the ultimate demise of my parent’s marriage. One day I had enough and told my mom it was either we left or she would never see me again. Looking back that’s kind of ominous isn’t it? What did I really mean when I said “She would never see me again”? Was I going to run away? I was too much of a baby to do that. Was I going to kill myself? Hell no, that’s permanent and has never been in my thoughts. Was I going to magically disappear? Most likely not. I have absolutely no idea what I meant, I just know I didn’t want to live in that situation any more. To this day, I don’t know how my mom interpreted it. (I’ll probably find out after she reads this blog post though.) But whatever the case, we left.

    I do believe that had I never said that, my parents would have stayed married. And if they had, my life after would have been so much different. What I DO know is that I wouldn’t change anything in my life because it’s gotten me where I am today.

    And I LOVE where I am today! Living in Indiana with my incredible husband, my four wonderful boys, my amazing mom, and my awesome mother-in-law wo lives about 15 minutes away from us.

    Everything really does happen for a reason, doesn’t it?

  • A Mess of Emotions

    A Mess of Emotions

    In my teenage years I had a lot going on. I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety, both of which I was on medication for and I was self-harming quite often.

    Furthermore, during that time:

    • My parents got divorced.
    • I barely saw my dad.
    • People at school were talking behind my back and spreading rumors.
    • I was smoking marijuana and drinking.
    • I was arrested.
    • I spent a week in the Psych Unit.
    • I had dropped out of school and went online.

    Any one of these things alone would have been stressful enough for a teenager. Especially one dealing with depression and anxiety. Self-harm went through the roof. I was using scissors, razors, and lighters to cut and burn myself. I remember how relaxed I would feel after cutting. The blood running down my legs or arms. A short feeling of release from the depression and anxiety.

    I now know that my medicine needed to be increased in dosage or switched but I had no clue then. Instead, I continued to suffer in silence because at this point, I was afraid to really TALK to my therapist for fear of being put back in the hospital. My mom was trying her best to understand me but I just couldn’t explain anything. All I could do was cut and then cry in regret as my mom bandaged me up.

    That was one thing about cutting. It was a release of emotions when you first did it, then you would feel disappointed in yourself, sad, angry, and ashamed afterward. It was a horrible cycle I couldn’t break. I was lost and couldn’t tell up from down.

    The drinking and smoking weed helped me to feel like I belonged somewhere and it helped me disassociate from the depression and anxiety. I now know that I was self-medicating because my meds weren’t working for me at all.

    Once I finished school online, I decided to get a job so I would have so money. My first job was waitressing at Waffle House in Hampton, on Mercury Boulevard. I was good at waitressing but the guy I kept getting stuck working with was a major pot head. He smoked all during our shift and would disappear for a half hour or so. When that happened, I would take the orders of anyone who walked in, not knowing how long the other guy was going to be gone. Usually you wait on every other person that comes in the establishment.

    Then, when he would come back in he would complain, in front of customers, that I had taken his tables. Never mind the fact that they already had their food and were eating when he finally walked in to take their order.

    Needless to say, I got tired of that real quick and ended up quitting Waffle House. I was working the night shift, until 6:00 AM during that time so that was even more reason for me to leave. I was only 17 when I got my first job.

    Then, I got an opportunity to be a receptionist at an OB/GYN’s office. That wasn’t much of a better environment as the doctor sexually harassed ALL of us! He made comments like “Y’all should have your exams done by me.” And, “I’m going to buy all three of you completely white outfits and take you all out of my boat and get your soaking wet.” Reminder that I was still 17 at the time, so that job didn’t last long either.

    During this time I still had no relationship with my dad. He didn’t call me and I didn’t call him. I felt like he didn’t want to have anything to do with me so that’s why I didn’t reach out. Plus, he was the adult, wasn’t he the one that was REALLY supposed to reach out in that situation?

  • More About My Sessions

    More About My Sessions

    The week before last I started getting a cold, AGAIN, after having one two weeks before. I thought it was totally unfair that I got sick again, and I was miserable! And I’m not a good sick person.

    I hate soups!

    I hate being hot!

    I hate being cold!

    I HATE BEING SICK!

    And I tend to cry randomly when I’m sick because I just hate it all.

    And, in the midst of being sick, my anxiety spiked. Yay me!

    January 29th was my eighth Spravato treatment, the last of the twice a week treatments. But I didn’t want to leave the house because of my anxiety. I was so sure I was going to end up vomiting during my session, even though I’d had nothing to eat and just enough to drink to get my meds down, as usual on treatment days.

    I thoughts for sure my blood pressure would spike and I’d have to be take to the hospital. All the things that could go wrong were going to go wrong as far as I was concerned.

    But I did some deep breathing, got in the car, and showed up for my appointment. There I was in my treatment and nothing was going wrong. At least not anything I thought would go wrong did except…

    At the end of my session, my RN informed me that our insurance had denied my once a week treatments. Like that makes any sense! Right?! Approve the twice a week treatments but not the once a week. *insert face palm*

    So then my psychiatrist, who I had seen the day before, and who was thrilled with my progress, had to get on the phone and do some bureaucratic bullshit (pardon my language) so that I would be able to continue having my treatments once a week. How crazy is that?

    When did the health of a patient start to hang in the balance because of insurance? People making decisions about your health not knowing you, how you have been, and what progress you’re making on the medicine you’re taking. I know! When the drug companies were allowed to charge whatever the hell they want for life-saving (and I do mean this) meds. Insurance companies just don’t want to pay the prices. And, let’s be real, most of us can’t afford the prices ourselves. It’s sickening!

    And I know this doesn’t just happen in the mental health sector either. It’s…

    • cancer treatments that aren’t fully covered by insurance
    • shots for those who are anaphylactic
    • and more

    We run ourselves in debt to stay alive, yet we cry when people commit suicide because they just can’t handle it all anymore. Crazy isn’t it? Thinking about all the people you know that this actually affects, huh?

    So, after my psychiatrist and RN rallied for me with insurance, they approved the once a week round of treatments. Thank goodness!

    This time there are 3 nasal sprays, instead of two. A higher dose that has really left me feeling like I’m melting big time.

    I’m really grateful for the opportunity to take Spravato. It has made such a difference in my depression. I feel it and my family sees it. There’s not much better than being able to feel happy and hopeful!

  • My First Two Treatments

    My First Two Treatments

    I’m a little late posting this week because I was sick over the weekend, but this week’s post is finally here.

    I’m actually doing my fifth Spravato treatment while writing this so of course I know what to expect now. But, for my first treatment, I only knew what I had been told and what I had read. And you know how that is… it’s never exactly what you expect.

    So, I went into my first treatment nervous. I’m a naturally anxious person, which is why I take medicine for anxiety, so this was nothing I didn’t expect. New things ramp that up in me. Things like “What if I take it and die?” and “What if I have a bad reaction to it?” and even “What if it doesn’t end up helping me and I waste our time?” chummed through my head. It might seem dramatic but these are actual things I worry about, ESPECIALLY with new things.

    So my RN came out into the waiting room and called Aaron and I back. Aaron has been so supportive during this entire process, even going so far as to do his own research before I started treatments.

    We walked all the way to the back of the building where they have three rooms set up for the Spravato treatments. I was taken into the first room, which has easily become my favorite! The room is similar to an exam room. First, there are no windows. There is a short counter with some drawers and a few cabinets above it. On the counter is a red, orange, and yellow 3-D printed dragon, a set of 3-D yellow blocks that are connected, and a bowl of ring pops. I guess I could play with the 3-D items since they’re just sitting there but I just never have. The walls are light grey with jellyfish, sea turtles, and fish all around. They really missed out by not painting the walls like the ocean. I think it would be more fun that way. In one corner is a brown recliner. Next to it, is a small glass table with a dim lamp on it, and in the other corner is another chair, a little more comfortable than the usual exam room chairs but not as good as the recliner.

    I sat down in the recliner and my RN took my blood pressure and oxygen level and then she put my feet up. Spravto lowers your blood pressure so they have to keep an eye on it.

    As a side note, my RN is the nicest lady ever and she loves to talk. She definitely makes it easy to relax.

    “Do you want a ring pop before we start?” she asked. I politely declined. I couldn’t understand for the life of me why she would ask me if I wanted candy and I actually chuckled a little bit.

    “Blow your nose,” she said, so I did. Then she handed me this nasal spray contraption and told me to spray it once in each nostril. So I did and almost immediately I started getting this disgusting taste in my mouth. I mean it coated my entire throat! It was so bad. I must have made a disgusted face, no surprise there, and she asked “Do you want a ring pop now?” To which I replied, “Yes, please!” After that, the thought of being offered candy wasn’t quite as funny as it was before.

    So note for anyone getting ready to start Spravato: TAKE THE RING POP or whatever candy they offer you, just not any kind you can choke on.

    Five minutes passed and it was time for the second nasal spray contraption. I finished that and we were talking and BAM! it hit me. My movements seemed slower. Scanning the room, I noticed my eyes took a minute to catch up to where my head was pointing. My whole body also started to feel “fuzzy.” That the only way to describe it. I know it sounds strange but it is what it is. The closest thing to the way it feels like that I can come up with is when “laughing gas” kicks in at the dentist.

    Another note: Start the second dose of Spravato in the nostril you ended with on the first dose.

    I pushed the recliner back and laid there, feeling like I was melting into the chair. I was so relaxed! My RN turned on some Northern Lights that rolled all over the walls and ceiling, turned out the lights, and shut the door. It was just Aaron, the Northern Lights, and me in the recliner… melting.

    My brain usually runs with a million things I need to do, picking apart conversations I’ve had to make sure I didn’t say anything stupid, etc., but there was absolutely NONE OF THAT! I could put together full sentences to talk, don’t get me wrong, but everything just slowed down and I was relaxed. For the first time in years, and yes I do mean years.

    I turned on some meditation music in my Air Pods and just watched the blue lights dance on the ceiling. It was almost as if the lights were linked to the music. My favorite light colors now are a mixture of red and blue which I choose every time now. There’s just something about them that fascinate me during my treatments.

    At the forty minute mark, my RN came in to take my blood pressure and oxygen level to make sure everything was okay, which it was. Then I was back off to my Northern Lights, meditation music land.

    I never fell asleep although I definitely felt like I could have a time or two. At the end of the two hours, my RN came and checked my vitals gain and then Aaron and I had to signa paper stating that he was driving me home. They tell you not to drive or do anything too serious (like work) for the rest of the day. The main effects wear off in about four hours but there is still some residual. I’ve found that I get headaches later in the day.

    After my second treatment, which went very much like my first, I decided to work on one of my paint-by-number pictures. You’d never be able to tell but I got quite a few of the colors confused, so I stopped doing it that day. Now, if I decide to work on one after a session, I take more time to make sure I have the right color. Lol.

    If I had to sum up what I learned during my first two sessions it would be this:

    • DON’T eat or drink anything the morning of your appointment unless you need to drink a little to take medication. Spravato can possibly make you sick to your stomach.
    • DON’T take any medication that slows down respiration like Xanax, Ativan, etc. If you have anxiety and it starts acting up before your session, eat a piece of sour candy. It actually works because it helps to ground you in the here and now.
    • DON’T take sleep-aids, either over-the-counter or prescribed (Trazadone, Quviviq, etc.), the night of your session. These slow your respiration down further and you don’t want that.
    • DON’T bring someone with you who is going to stress you out. This is your time to relax and take care of yourself.
    • DO wear comfy clothes. Sessions las two hours and it’s hard to relax when you’re uncomfortable.
    • DO listen to some relaxing music and/or journal. It’s going to be hard to focus so I would avoid trying to read a book.
    • DO TAKE THE RING POP the first time it’s offered. The bad taste will traumatize you.

    And even though you’ll probably still be nervous for your first session (which is normal), know that YOU’VE GOT THIS! You’re trying to help pull yourself out of the darkness that is consuming you and you can only go up from there.

    After five sessions now, I feel like I can honestly agree with everyone I’ve read about and spoken to, Spravato is a GAME-CHANGER! I’m able to laugh again without forcing myself to because that’s what I should be doing in certain situations. Plus, I’m smiling more authentically. The depression hasn’t gone away completely, I’m not sure I believe it will, but it’s not nearly as prominent in my day-to-day life like it once was. I feel like I can finally start seeing a light at the end of what was a really dark tunnel.

    If you have any questions about anything, please drop them in the comments below. I would love to answer them!

  • What to Know

    What to Know

    Last year my psychiatrist tried a few different medications for my depression. Unfortunately, they didn’t work. So in another appointment she dropped the term treatment-resistant depression (TRD). This was something I had never heard of and suddenly I was diagnosed with it. When I looked it up, I found out that TRD is major depression that doesn’t improve after at least two different forms of treatment like medications and/or therapy, and it includes those medications you’ve taken in the past. But what did that mean for me finding relief from the despair that was crushing me?

    Enter Spravato!

    Spravato came around in 2019 as a form of treatment for TRD and major depressive disorder (MDD). Spravato, also known as esketamine, is a nasal spry that is used along with an anti-depressant to help subside the effects of major depression.

    Now esketamine is different from ketamine, or what people on the streets call Special K. Ketamine in a hospital is used for pain or as a dissociative anesthetic. On the streets, Special K is known as the “club drug” due to its sedating properties. However, esketamine is SPECIFICALLY for those that suffer from TRD and MDD. So… how does it help?

    Well, Spravato mainly affects the glutamate system in the brain. The glutamate system is critical for learning, memory, and cognition. It acts as an “on” switch for brain functions such as mood, sleep, and energy (three things depression affects). It also works to create new neural connections in areas that regulate mood like the prefrontal cortex.

    TRD shows up in the brain as disrupted neural circuits and altered connectivity. Therefore, Spravato helps create new neural circuits and connections in the brain to decrease symptoms of major depression.

    I’m a member of some different groups on Facebook for anxiety, depression, bipolar, and ADHD. It’s nice to have groups you can post questions in or express your frustrations about the illnesses you suffer from and have people respond who have been through whatever it might be.

    Anywho, I have found that people have posted questions about Spravato. What is it like? What do you have to do? And the biggest one, Does it really help? And do you know what everyone who responds to the later says? They say it’s a “GAME-CHANGER.” That’s their exact words! When I talked to my therapist about it, she said a few of her other clients are taking it and they described it as a (hold your breath)… “GAME-CHANGER.” And no, I didn’t tell her what I had heard before she said that to me.

    Insurance approved me to start Spravato treatments so I’ll be able to experience for myself if it’s a game-changer like everyone says or not. In fact, I’ve already had two treatments and I’ll be in the middle of my third when this posts.

    So now that you know what Spravato is and how it works in the brain, next week I’m going to walk you through my first two treatments including what to expect if you are about to start Spravato treatments.

    Until next week!

  • Happy New Year!

    Happy New Year!

    Happy New Year! I hope you’ve had a great start to the year. It’s such a great time of year as it feels like a clean slate, a new 365 days to change the way we see and do things. I’m feeling positive for this new year and I hope you are too!

    Things have been really rough, I won’t lie. I was off my medication for three months because insurance kept jerking us around and we couldn’t afford the medication without it. Just a side note, this happens to many people and they suffer just like I did. I know this because I’m a member of a couple of different mental health groups on Facebook and people post about this a lot. I could go off on a tangent about our mental health system and the drug companies but I won’t do it in this post.

    Anywho, I went through over a month of a severe depressive episode. I slept a lot of the days. I felt like everyone would be better off without me. I had thoughts of hurting myself (I was a cutter in my teenage years), but I didn’t thank goodness. I even contemplated admitting myself to the hospital just so I could get back on my medications, but it was Christmas time, I would have missed my whole family greatly, and once they released me I wouldn’t have my medication again so what was the point?

    It felt like a heavy weight all over my body. I was drained of energy even when I wasn’t doing anything. I didn’t smile and nothing could make me laugh. I had panic attacks daily and used Xanax and sour candy (Yes! it really does work) to get through. My doctor told me it’s very common that when depression hits, panic attacks increase.

    It was so bad that the Christmas tree didn’t get put up until the weekend before Christmas. (But don’t worry, we’re leaving it up for a bit to enjoy it more). I did absolutely NO baking with the kids which I always love to do. Presents were wrapped two days before Christmas. We could do that because Christmas was really small this year. The kids didn’t mind though, they were appreciative for what the did get. I really do have some amazing freaking kids!

    So at the VERY end of December, our insurance finally came through. I was able to refill most of my prescriptions, (all except for two that required doctor authorization), and so I was able to start getting my medication back into my system.

    My therapist hooked me up with a last minute appointment with my psychiatrist for December 30th where I was able to get scripts for my two medications I was missing. Then, my therapist got me in to see her on January 2nd during her lunch break. God bless her, she’s so good to me and she actually helps me. She even called to check up on me multiple times while I was fighting with insurance and worked me through some panic attacks. She’s freaking amazing!

    On December 30th, in the afternoon, I got a call from the lady who handles Spravato. She said insurance approved the treatments (for my treatment-resistant depression)! I’m actually starting them today. In fact, by the time this posts, I’ll be halfway through my first treatment (they last 2 hours).

    I’m sure you’re wondering “What is Spravato? What does it do?” Well… next week I’m going to break everything down about it. Then, the following week, I’ll tell you about my first two weeks of treatments.

    Thanks so much for sticking with me while I post sporadically. One of my goals for the new year (I don’t do resolutions) is to post consistently and plan posts ahead of time. So far, January is fully covered. Yay!

    As always, please share this post. You never know what someone else is going through and how much this may help them!

  • Check-In

    Check-In

    I was still struggling this past week with crippling anxiety and depression. In fact, my anxiety had me waiting to go to the BMV to register Kavin’s car (which should have been done by Friday). I almost didn’t do it on Saturday either but I pushed through (with the help of a Xanax) and his car is now registered. But other than that, I just laid on the couch with Lola and we watched ID tv together Monday through Thursday.

    Friday I took a shower (major accomplishment for me every week), the first one since last Friday. I do this because it’s Game Night at my mother-in-law’s house and I don’t want her (or her friend that comes) worrying about what kind of “crazy person” is raising her grandkids and is married to her son. Now don’t get me wrong, she would NEVER say anything negative to me like that, she loves me, that comment is just how my brain works (thanks negative thoughts). Mostly, I take a shower because I’m embarrassed not to.

    I’m embarrassed living with my husband, kids, and Mom who see me in the same outfit for the week, laying around doing nothing because I literally have no energy to expend and the things that I used to love doing I have no interest for anymore. It DESTROYS me knowing that my kids know I’m struggling because of my mental illnesses. I feel so bad for them and feel like the worst mom ever because I can’t pull myself out of this dark hole.

    I constantly question why it has to be me going through this, why my family has to suffer because of me. But I know there are TONS of other people wondering the same thing and you’d never know it. We smile even when we feel like crying, we push ourselves to go out while silently freaking out and trying to get our heartbeat and breathing under control while telling ourselves we aren’t really going to die we just feel like it, it’s accepting a compliment but NEVER being able to believe them, it’s thinking everyone would be better off without you but struggling to go on, it’s spending money you don’t have buying things because you feel a rush of excitement knowing that something new will be coming to you soon (it could be big or small) and then suddenly feeling guilty and berating yourself because you’ve bough xyz.

    There are so many things that scream someone needs help but you may not be able to see any of them. Either that or maybe you think some of these things:

    • “Man, she sure got over (negative situation) quickly because she’s smiling.”
    • She’s got all the money for (expensive items like electronics, concert tickets, clothes, etc.), they must be really well off.”
    • “He looks ‘normal’ so he has to be okay.”

    Folks, we don’t always look differently because we suffer from a mental illness. It’s not like missing an arm or having a colostomy bag, these illnesses hide themselves, bury themselves deep inside of us and eat away at us slowly.

    Then there are some that just can’t push through the sadness, anxiety, mania, etc. and start cancelling plans or always saying no. You might think:

    • “Man she’s flaky. That’s (x amount of times) that she’s cancelled on us.”
    • “He must feel like he’s too good for us because he always says no.”
    • Or someone saying no to going on a shopping trip because they know their mania will cause them to buy things impulsively and irresponsibly and they’re trying to avoid that, but you take it as a slight against you.

    We try our best to hide a lot because we’re:

    • embarrassed
    • don’t think people would understand
    • don’t know how to put our feelings into words (this is a legitimate thing)
    • etc.

    So many suffer in SILENCE.

    And something else you may not know is that people suffering from depression or any mental illness can have good days yet still suffer from that mental illness. I personally never know what each day is going to be like. For instance, I had good days Friday through Sunday. I felt good enough to play games and not break out crying for no reason so that was a win for me. But today is just meh. I feel like if I felt something was going wrong, it would spiral me into a depressive state again. I’m writing this blog today because I’m TRYING to stay consistent and to at least help one person, but I had to push myself to do it.

    The saying “Be kind. You never know what someone is going through,” is so true. This post alone shows that mental illness can hide anywhere and everywhere.

    Sorry if this post is a little wonky and in one direction and then another. That’s just part of being off some of my meds right now. I hope you get the gist.

    If you or someone you know is struggling with their mental illness or thoughts of harming themselves please tell them to text or call 988. This is a confidential crisis line in the United States that’s there to help.