By now, I'm sure you all have heard about Robin Williams and his suicide. I thought long and hard about writing about it. I wasn't sure if it was right. Respectful. But I couldn't stop thinking about it. Especially when I started hearing the negativity.
Depression and mental illness doesn't discriminate. It doesn't care if you're rich or poor. Your race, your religion. Your upbringing or your genetics. It doesn't care what you do for a living. It doesn't even care if you're an honest and good person.
I know not every understands that level of depression. The very most bottom of rock bottom. Or what it feels like to go even lower than that. People say it's selfish. People say it's dumb. Maybe people just don't understand.
Depression doesn't discriminate. But people do. People judge you by the clothes you wear. By the jobs you do. By the house you live in. And by your mental state.
I won't sit here and say that what Robin Williams did was ok. I can't condone suicide. But I can't say it was wrong either. Just sad. Sad that anyone could hurt that much. Could see no other way. And it's not just him I'm sad for. Not just the famous ones. I feel for the average person who struggles day by day.
Depression doesn't discriminate. And neither should we.
I ask of you to do this. Smile at a stranger. Compliment them, help them, be kind to them. You never know, maybe they are at rock bottom too and that simple smile shifts something. Maybe even saves a life.
If you are suffering from depression, please know you aren't alone. There's such a stigma around mental illness. But you are NOT alone. There's websites, forums, friends, family, therapists, and even me.
Yes me. I will listen. I won't judge. Because I've been there.
Robin Williams, may you finally find peace. And may the world grow more understanding of mental illness and depression so people can come out of hiding and say, "I need help," without fear. The help is there. And it doesn't discriminate either.
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
Thursday, August 7, 2014
Been some time - Medical stuff
I haven't been here in quite a while. Honestly, I haven't been on my computer much at all in the past couple weeks. I've been dealing with medical stuff.
First was the endoscopy. That was a horrible experience. I wasn't sedated enough before the procedure. I found myself choking and gagging and crying as this tube was shoved down my throat. Naturally, I fought against it. Tried to turn my head. And this led to injury. I was in a lot of pain for many days after. Because the tube had rubbed all down my throat and esophagus. They biopsied some stuff in my stomach too. So that hurt as well. Eating and drinking was difficult.
My mom had taken me and she was a big help with the anxiety before the procedure. I felt safe. Which is good, since I wasn't allowed my Xanax before hand. No food or water for at least 12 hours.
But after... they wouldn't let me see my mother in recovery. In fact, the hospital staff pretty much rushed me out of the hospital as quickly as humanly possible afterwards. I think they wanted to avoid a scene. I didn't get to see my mom until they had wheeled me out to her car. I got in and told her how it went and I cried. Oh my mother, she wanted to punch someone and she's the least violent person I know!
Recovery was difficult. And once that was done, it was time to prep for the colonoscopy. I'll spare you the details. It's not fun. They give you this drink to clean out your colon and I was on a liquid only diet. I went 38 hours without food.
My boyfriend took me, but he was not allowed in the prep room or recovery. And I know he was very upset about not being able to hold my hand before, as my mom did with the endoscopy. Thankfully, I was allowed to take Xanax this time so I managed the anxiety ok considering.
This procedure went better tho. I had the same doctor perform it and he remembered the last time, so he doubled up on the sedatives. The room swam and I told the male nurse, who was giving me the meds, that I loved him. Then I fell asleep. I woke up once, in a fog, feeling pain and I may or may not have cried out. Next thing I knew, I was in a different room. Woke up, went back to sleep. Woke up again. Knew for a fact that I was indeed in recovery. I could've gone back to sleep but decided to wake up and get the heck out of there. Who wants to stay longer than they need to in a hospital? Plus, I needed to get back to the boyfriend. It had been over an hour and I'm sure he was flipping out.
I had more biopsies done. And days later, I am still in pain. Those sedatives did a number to me too and I slept for the most part of two days. But I prefer that to being awake during it!
I have another test this monday. Imaging. I have to not eat again, and then drink barium (yuck) and have some images taken of my insides. Then we shall finally see my doctor again and go over all the tests.
I hope they find something. I hope this is all over soon. Or it could still just be beginning. Who knows. None of this has been easy. A part of me wanted to just pretend I was ok and avoid these tests. But I can't do that. I can't hide anymore and pretend I'm not sick. I need answers. We need answers. It's not fair to my loved ones anymore. It's not fair to me. I want my life back. And I'm hoping that we're on the right track.
First was the endoscopy. That was a horrible experience. I wasn't sedated enough before the procedure. I found myself choking and gagging and crying as this tube was shoved down my throat. Naturally, I fought against it. Tried to turn my head. And this led to injury. I was in a lot of pain for many days after. Because the tube had rubbed all down my throat and esophagus. They biopsied some stuff in my stomach too. So that hurt as well. Eating and drinking was difficult.
My mom had taken me and she was a big help with the anxiety before the procedure. I felt safe. Which is good, since I wasn't allowed my Xanax before hand. No food or water for at least 12 hours.
But after... they wouldn't let me see my mother in recovery. In fact, the hospital staff pretty much rushed me out of the hospital as quickly as humanly possible afterwards. I think they wanted to avoid a scene. I didn't get to see my mom until they had wheeled me out to her car. I got in and told her how it went and I cried. Oh my mother, she wanted to punch someone and she's the least violent person I know!
Recovery was difficult. And once that was done, it was time to prep for the colonoscopy. I'll spare you the details. It's not fun. They give you this drink to clean out your colon and I was on a liquid only diet. I went 38 hours without food.
My boyfriend took me, but he was not allowed in the prep room or recovery. And I know he was very upset about not being able to hold my hand before, as my mom did with the endoscopy. Thankfully, I was allowed to take Xanax this time so I managed the anxiety ok considering.
This procedure went better tho. I had the same doctor perform it and he remembered the last time, so he doubled up on the sedatives. The room swam and I told the male nurse, who was giving me the meds, that I loved him. Then I fell asleep. I woke up once, in a fog, feeling pain and I may or may not have cried out. Next thing I knew, I was in a different room. Woke up, went back to sleep. Woke up again. Knew for a fact that I was indeed in recovery. I could've gone back to sleep but decided to wake up and get the heck out of there. Who wants to stay longer than they need to in a hospital? Plus, I needed to get back to the boyfriend. It had been over an hour and I'm sure he was flipping out.
I had more biopsies done. And days later, I am still in pain. Those sedatives did a number to me too and I slept for the most part of two days. But I prefer that to being awake during it!
I have another test this monday. Imaging. I have to not eat again, and then drink barium (yuck) and have some images taken of my insides. Then we shall finally see my doctor again and go over all the tests.
I hope they find something. I hope this is all over soon. Or it could still just be beginning. Who knows. None of this has been easy. A part of me wanted to just pretend I was ok and avoid these tests. But I can't do that. I can't hide anymore and pretend I'm not sick. I need answers. We need answers. It's not fair to my loved ones anymore. It's not fair to me. I want my life back. And I'm hoping that we're on the right track.
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