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Mental Health

depression, Mental Health

Well, It’s a Start

It’s been a rough month and a half. Some days I feel like I might be starting to see light. And then I get angry and retreat to my bed again. The featured photo is our cat, Nancy. She is our oldest son’s cat. I am feeling very protective and want to insulate my family. I am very angry about the current direction of our country. My psych meds probably kept me out of the hospital in June. I do not want to share my kids with people who voted for Trump, even family. Especially family. I lay all of this at their feet. There was plenty of evidence that voting for Trump was a bad idea. And we are seeing the fallout of voting for extreme conservatives in the name of Supreme Court nominations. I have problems even with people who only voted for him in 2016 but not 2020. The alarms were going off in 2016 too. Seeing the light in 2020 is too late. So I am taking less pictures of the kids, and Jared and I are not posting photos of the kids at all on social media anymore. When a memory pops up that I […]

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Expressive, Mental Health

I Don’t Know What To Say

I don’t even know what to say. I have been paralyzed most of the past month, and particularly more so in the past week. I haven’t been journaling, I mostly haven’t been taking pictures other than when I took Jared to the train station a little over a week ago. Writing in pubic doesn’t feel safe at the moment for a variety of reasons. I don’t know what is in store for this blog for the future. I don’t even know if I want to keep a blog in the future.

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Expressive, Faith, Photography as Vocation, Writing

A Little Serenity

I’m up today within the yummy morning window.  I’ve had time to write.  Laundry is on and I’m about to do the ten minutes of yoga for which I currently have stamina. Balance is what I seek today.  In the lull of normal life, I just want a normal, moderately productive day. I sit in front of the computer screen too much, looking at other women’s blogs which make life as mommy look unrealistically glamourous.  I look at the words and pictures which pour forth from these blogs and compare my own meager attempts at a web presence, comparing for no good reason because my own blog bursts full of my own creativity which is completely unique to me. Today, I will be more present as a mother and less present on social media. When the sun comes up I will sit on my front porch and drink whatever caffeinated beverage I can find in the kitchen.  I will read a devotional today.  I will actually clean house a little bit.  Today will be filled with peace and gratitude for my wonderfully mundane life. I’ve had days that weren’t quite so normal, on both sides of the spectrum.  I’m slowly […]

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Expressive, Mental Health, Photography as Vocation, Writing

Working on Me

Yesterday and today, I’ve been doing some internal housekeeping. I rarely look at them anymore, but I felt compelled yesterday morning to get out the journals I kept from my last inpatient stay at the Local Friendly Mental Ward. For the most part, the theme of my journals was outwardly-centered:  I was worried about other people, not myself.  In fact, I could not concentrate at all on myself, as if it was a defense mechanism against falling apart completely. That’s a theme of what happens when I go psychotic:  I worry too much about other people, with pretty much no worry at all about what’s going on inside myself. It happened when I was 17:  I was worried about a good girlfriend. It happened when I was 18:  I was worried about a boyfriend. It happened when I was 19:  I was worried about another good girlfriend. It happened when I was 28:  I was worried about my employer. It happened when I was 30:  I was worried about yet another girlfriend and my employer. That’s the run-down, simplified.  There were side scenarios I was worried about each time as well, but above were the triggers.  Stress from worry made […]

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depression, Mental Health, Writing

Caroline’s New and Improved 10-Point Mood Scale

The last time I was admitted to the outpatient program of the Local Friendly Mental Ward, I composed a 10-point mood scale to be used daily, to pinpoint where I am emotionally and what I can do each day to help manage my day. For the last several months, that mood scale has sat on my nightstand doing nothing, untouched. It occurred to me this morning that this document should be no different than my journal, or this blog, even.  For it to be relevant, the 10-point mood scale has to be a living document.  So, I revised it.  Feel free to modify for your own use!  The revision follows. Caroline’s 10-Point Mood Scale 0 = Depressed = Suicidal. Hopeless. Tearful. Angry. Sleep all the time. Tense.  High or low appetite.  Lethargic.  Irritable.  Difficulty concentrating.  Call Therapist.  Call Psychiatrist.  Call someone else safe and familiar with situation.  Go to ER….all viable options.  Do something healthy to distract, like knitting, or petting the cat, or watching TV, or finding inspirational sayings.  Journal.  Get through the moment…it will pass.  There is hope! 1 = Depressed = Hopeless. Tearful.  Sleep all the time. Angry.  Tense.  High or low appetite.  Lethargic.  Irritable.  Difficulty concentrating..  […]

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Be-Bop, depression, Family LIfe, Writing

Forgiveness, Please Find Me

So, here I am the morning after writing a scathing lament about being alone with the brand new Baby Bump, my very own Porter Price, in the NICU. Here I am, washed out.  I hid out at a local coffee shop last night for a few hours.  I had words with Jared, to put it nicely.  I cried myself to sleep last night. I want to be a nice person, I really do.  But the reality is, I’m not.  I hold grudges.  I never forget anything, ever.  I rarely forgive. Here we are, seven summers after that NICU nightmare, and I still feel the pain like it’s happening right now.  I relive the fear.  I ache with loneliness.  I sorely miss the women on my messageboard who were my rock that summer. Once, that bitty alien baby was the baby in that scary picture I posted yesterday, the one where I was holding my firstborn for the first time and he was screaming from the pain of being cold.  I was just about as equally uncomfortable at the time, terrified I would hurt him. You know what my worst fear on taking Porter home was?  I was afraid of holding […]

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