Now back to my long, convoluted story

After trying different therapeutic techniques with Dr. K for several months, and being on meds for the same amount of time, I continued to feel hopeless and pathetic, like my life was not going to turn around.  I looked forward to each therapy session, because I really liked talking to Dr. K and I was sure that we’d eventually find something that helped;  I left each session confused and saddened that I could not pull myself up for more than a little bit of time.  

Randomly, I was introduced to someone, through a mutual friend, who happened to be a psychoanalyst.   For reasons too long and complicated to go into, she found out about my struggle and offered to give me advice if I wanted it.  I didn’t hesitate.  If one of my children was struggling, I would want to try different doctors/therapists/treatments and not just stay with the first one, but for me I was being complacent - partially because I liked working with Dr. K and probably more importantly I was apprehensive to start over again.  So when she offered to meet with me I readily consented!  I met with her a few days later and we decided I should attempt to meet with a social worker who she knew well and see if I thought that a new person/technique could be more helpful.  My feeling, was that as an art teacher, I don’t know the field of psychology and have very limited knowledge about different titles, letters after peoples names and types of therapy.  I now know that each person, even in the field, has an opinion and each opinion is different!  But I was still desperately searching for the answer to my depression.

A week later I had a consultation with the social worker, L.  I enjoyed talking to her, and didn’t know what the difference would be between her and Dr. K.  I was told that there would be no teddy bears and no homework.  I decided that I would try switching to her to see if I would have a different outcome.  Each meeting with L was exhausting, talking about my past, but I had heard “you have to go through it to get past it” so many times that I thought I was doing what was right for me.  After two weeks of going to L once a week, I had another drop in my mood and I contacted L for an “emergency” session.  At that point we talked and came to the conclusion that once a week was not going to be enough for me.  She was wonderful to work with me to make that a little more affordable (as much as I would love to say that money doesn’t matter when it comes to your health - for so many of us that is just not true).

Dan and I planned a trip for spring break with the kids, a plan to make happy memories for all four of us.  I scheduled a session with L for both the day before we left on the trip and the day after we would return.  The trip went really well, and I was hoping that this was finally the turning point and I was on the way back to a better state of mental health.  As you know the road was going to continue to twist.  The day after we got home, I met with L, filled her in on my trip and the fact that I was dreading the down time of 3 days before returning to work.  Never before in my life have I feared free time, but then again I now realize how much of my life I have spent running and scheduling things to avoid being with myself.  

The night before returning to work, I wrote in my journal:

i don’t want to bother anyone anymore…. i hate reaching out to my supportive friends just to say i am in the same place i’ve been for the past several months… i am taking the meds, going to therapy, taking any/all advice, but feel like i am draining myself and others with this almost constant state.  i don’t want to lie when the people who really care ask me how i am doing, but i also don’t want to always be honest… i’m afraid i am going to eventually chase everyone away. i am not fun to be around.  no one wants to listen to a broken record… i know some say they will because they are nice and want to keep me safe, but it can’t be something they want to do… i don’t want to be pitied, but at the same time i can’t do this alone.  i am really stuck

I reread this several times and decided to email my supportive friends at school with an edited version of this journal entry, to hopefully stall off anyone asking me how am I’m doing on our return to work.  

Monday, the first day back at work, I avoided most everyone, spending most of my time in tears in my office while I didn’t have classes.  A few people stopped by to check on me and even commented that I didn’t look like myself and they were worried.  That evening my friend who started this journey with me texted and then called to see how I was doing.  She was concerned with my answers and asked if she could talk to Dan and see if they could help me together.  I requested that she and i talk first.  We planned to meet early the next morning.

We are almost caught up to the present… I promise!  

After she and I spoke on Tuesday morning, she asked if we could gather all my support system at school to be all in one room and talk.  I knew this was going to be an intervention of some sort and I was terrified.  But I knew it was what I needed so I consented.  I gave her a list of seven other people who were my rocks and confidants in this hard journey.  I explained that I was sharing with numerous people because I didn’t want to burden anyone with all of the thoughts and emotions running through my head and I felt like this way I wasn’t giving anyone too much.  I never realized that they all cared so much for me and wanted to help, that my plan wasn’t really that effective.  In a busy school, when my friend was able to get coverage for everyone and gather us all in a room in a matter of hours, I knew just how serious my situation had become and how concerned my friends were.

I walked into the room with tears running down my face, but a pretty open mind.  Everyone was supportive; it was uncomfortable yet comforting at the same time.  I listened and really began to take in how much these friends and colleagues cared for me and the fact that I was not going to be able to continue my path at the current state of my therapy.  After a few people talked and then everyone hugged me, two of my friends asked me to stay in the room while the rest returned to work.  They got down to business, recommending me possibly doing an inpatient or outpatient program and encouraging me to discuss it with L that afternoon.  I was told that I would not have to worry about my job at all, that I could concentrate on myself and my recovery.  I agreed to talk to L and left for my appointment with her.  She quickly concurred with my friends and I left that afternoon with the task of contacting Dr. S (my psychiatrist) to get her opinion and advice.

Wednesday morning a different close friend accompanied me to Dr. S’s office and, after a good conversation, we came to the same conclusion and decided that we would walk across her parking lot to the access center of the treatment center.  This brings us full circle to the second post I wrote for this blog…

http://yetanotherhotmess.blogspot.com/2015/05/rock-bottom.html

Next up, the actual turning point to this major depressive episode - at least that is how I am looking at it (trying to be cautiously optimistic)!