Depression | A Day in Mollywood

Sometimes you just need a good cry

February 19, 2013 By Molly

Yesterday was a day off work and while the kids napped I decided to try to nap too. Except my back hurt and my stomach didn’t feel so hot either. So instead I just laid there, switching positions every once in awhile.

I did this for two hours. When my eyes finally closed I thought about the dirty dishes in the sink and how the floor needed swept because there were cheerios from breakfast strewn about. I also thought about the probably three loads of laundry to be done upstairs and the fact that we had nothing in the pantry for dinner.

I knew I should probably get up and take care of it. Take care of it all. But I was overwhelmed and instead I started to cry.

Because sometimes you just need a good cry.

I thought about my life. How wonderful it is but also how terrible I have felt for much of it.

I know it’s not fair. The random crying episodes when really I should be able to handle these small matters like an adult. But instead my mind turns them into big matters and the tears come like a toddler who got a red sippy cup when he wanted the one with dinosaurs on it.

A child still exists in me. And sometimes I let her out.

Other people might say that my medicines are “off” again or I need to start going to therapy. I haven’t been in six months. I was proud of that. I was proud that I didn’t need it anymore. My whole life I’ve needed it. Where’s the fun in that? It’s not cool when it takes work and medicines to bring out the happiness in you.

But just when I thought I was crying because I was sad, I suddenly glanced up at one of Brigham’s newborn pictures. The one where my 21-month-old Landon is staring lovingly at his baby brother. I started to cry harder. They make me so happy. I am so happy to be their mama and I hope they think I do a good job at it. I’m always giving them kisses and hugs and I hope to God it’s enough.

I feel like God must love me because He gave me them. He gives me the strength to be their mama and their role model.

Then I had to go wake them up because I just needed to see their little eyes open and stare up at me. I needed them to be near me.

I realized I wasn’t sad at all. Just a bad moment filled with some not-so-good thoughts. Then a happy moment when I realized just how good I have it.

So I watched my boys jump off the ottoman and we laughed together until our bellies hurt.

And I left my good cry behind.

Filed Under: Depression, Mommy Moments 8 Comments

Why I don’t watch the News

November 6, 2012 By Molly

It was October 3, 2011.

I was already crawling out of my skin with anxiety and could barely keep the panic attacks at bay. Everything tipped me over the edge. If I saw someone with car trouble on the side of the road I envisioned colliding with them and causing a huge accident where I or my children died. If I went running I envisioned a mountain lion coming out of the grass and attacking me. Yes, I know. There have been like eight mountain lion sightings in Missouri (I looked it up). It didn’t matter. My brain was rapid firing messages that didn’t make sense every hour of every day.

I sat there on the sofa that night waiting for another sleepless night in which I would wrestle with my demons in the dark. Turning on the news was quite possibly the worst thing I could have done.

On October 3rd, baby Lisa was kidnapped from her crib in our city. A massive search for the baby began. And in my head the anxiety grew by the minute. My shoulders tensed up. And I became those parents. The ones searching for their baby. I managed to create a scenario in my head that included abductors bringing ladders to our house, sneaking into my children’s bedrooms and kidnapping them while we slept.

Nothing I did allowed me to believe that the chances of this happening were slim to none. I honestly believed that my children were going to be the next children kidnapped.

That’s when the compulsive behaviors began. We had the boys in bed by 8:00 p.m. Before I left the room I looked all around, checked in their closets (twice). Made sure the windows were locked (twice). I had to check everything twice otherwise I just knew something bad would happen. I would close the door behind me and fight tears as I turned around to walk away. Sometimes I would give in and go back in immediately because I thought something must be wrong if I was having thoughts to go back in again. And I did it all over again, multiple times. Sometimes waking up at 1:00, 2:00 and 3:00 a.m. just to go check on them. If I was in my bed it was broken sleep. I let the tears silently slip sideways down my face. All night long. Wondering if this was the night that my world would be rocked by some unfathomable tragedy. Would it be a random break-in? Would it be a fire?

I woke many times and as I walked down the hallway I envisioned myself opening the door only to find the window open and Brigham or Landon no longer in their bed. I would sit in the rocker in Brigham’s room, hold my knees at my chest and just cry. Why was I like this? Why couldn’t I stop these thoughts and this strange behavior?

To say I was terrified would be an understatement. I was scared all the time. So much so that it made it hard to function. I didn’t know how to fix what was broken. I didn’t know how to stop these aggressive intrusive thoughts.

I fell desperately into the sofa at my therapist’s office. Just fix me, I cried. I can’t do this anymore. She asked me what prompted the behaviors. Two words . . . Baby Lisa.

And then she said it – stop watching the news. It was like a light bulb went off. I argued that this would make me ignorant to all that was going on around me. She argued back. “If it’s something you really need to know someone will tell you.”

It made so much sense. She’s such a smart woman. Watching the news is a trigger for my anxiety. It always has been. Murder, car accidents, fires, break-ins, kidnappings, abuse, war, natural disasters. Why was I torturing myself when I already know these things happen. I do not need to see it on a daily basis.

So there you have it. I don’t watch the news anymore. I can’t say my anxiety stays completely at bay. Sometimes I have to work really hard not to let it consume me as it once did. And I do have to take medication for my illness. But avoiding this trigger has also helped immensely. The news is no good for me. I don’t miss it one bit.

If you are having intrusive thoughts and compulsive behaviors that interfere with your life and well-being please see a doctor. There is no need to suffer in silence.

Filed Under: Depression 14 Comments

happy.

October 9, 2012 By Molly

At this time last year I was not in a very good place. My trip to BlogHer was ruined due to a depressive episode that kept me from having the time of my life. My severe anxiety and paranoia left me crippled, unable to focus. I couldn’t function like a normal person because every day of every minute I pictured my kids dying a horrible death and my brain told me there was nothing I could do to stop it from happening. I developed obsessive-compulsive techniques because I thought it would help save my children.

My depressive episode started in June 2011. By October I wondered if I would ever be happy again. I was going to therapy every week and checking in with my psychiatrist every other week. I was told to take time off of work because I couldn’t function (which I didn’t take for fear of losing my job).

Appointment after appointment, my medications were increased or changed to something new. But nothing worked. They finally decreased one of my meds in late October. The change in my anxiety level was amazing. It’s too bad I didn’t know that too much of one medication made my anxiety the worst it has ever been.

So one problem was taken care of but the depression and anger was still there. I was defensive, irritable and just not a pleasant person to be around in general. I cried a lot when I laid down to go to sleep at night. I just knew I didn’t deserve this amount of emotional pain and it made me sad and angry that I had to go through another episode again.

In January, my meds were switched again. And so began the change I had been waiting for. Within a month I felt better. I was more centered and less likely to fly off the handle.

I kept going to therapy every week. I took my medications, one in the morning to help with the lows and one at night to help with sleep and anxiety. I also had an anxiety medication to take when I felt particularly anxious. I definitely took advantage of this extra med. I am not ashamed to admit when it’s needed.

When I lost my job in early June I could have gone to a very bad place. But the shocking news is that I didn’t. Although I had a bad day or three during the summer I felt happier than I had in a long time. Finally, finally, finally! I was back to feeling good. I enjoyed every day with my family. I had a blast on Fourth of July. August was amazing with Landon’s 4th birthday and our 6th wedding anniversary.

There was no longer a seesaw of emotion. I was even-keel. Relieved to be where I am. I must not forget to give Him the credit. I believe my strengthened faith in God helped me more than anything else. I am a broken being. But I am whole in the eyes of the Lord.

Now I take a deep breath and bask in the glow of a happy time in my life. In fact, I am doing so well that I was able to take a break from regular therapy! There was nothing bad to discuss!

Because of the nature of my disorder I never have any idea when I will slip into a depression. It is my hope that as long as I remain on my medications this won’t happen again. One of the pros of having a mental illness is really being able to appreciate the good times. And I do. I so do.

So, friends, I am finally in a good place. Just like I longed to be. Everyone is reaping the benefits. Me, Naaman, my boys, my family. I worked hard and I’m finally where I belong.

Stable.

Focused.

Happy.

If you are experiencing a dark period in your life please know that there is someone else out there who truly understands the deep abyss of sadness that traps the joy from you. But you can and will get through this. I’m living proof.

Thank you for all the love and words of encouragement during this difficult journey. You’ll never know how much I appreciate it.

Filed Under: Depression 23 Comments

Dear Me: A letter to my teenage self

September 17, 2012 By Molly

I am linking up with Chatting at the Sky for this post. I found the link up through Blue-Eyed Bride when she wrote her letter (which totally made me cry, by the way). I instantly wanted to write a letter of my own. No, scratch that. I think I needed to write a letter of my own. This was very cathartic and I hope you’ll choose to write one too.

Dear 16-year-old self,

You’re in the middle of your first mental breakdown. One that will shape your life in more ways than you can count. You have no idea what is going on. You feel alone, hurt and hopeless much of the time. You spend a lot of your time at home in a dark basement, writing angst-filled poetry by candlelight because it’s the only thing that takes the pain away.

Can I just tell you how much I want to go to you. How much I want to sit with you and let you cry on my 33-year-old shoulder. I’m so sorry you had to go through the pain of a terrible break-up at such a young age. I’m so sorry that it rocked your belief in a good world. Because the world is ultimately good. You’ll see true goodness in your sons’ eyes someday.

Those friends you have. The three girls who make you laugh harder than you ever have in your life. Treasure them. In three years you will lose them to a fight you never should have fought. It was your pride and stubbornness that ended a beautiful bond. Hug Amy and tell her you love her about a thousand times more than you did. Because in seven years she won’t be here anymore and you will miss your chance at reconciliation. It will be the first time in your life that you realize sometimes you don’t get a second chance. You will learn not to hold grudges against people because tomorrow is not promised to us and the resentment is not worth the energy. You will finally feel the weight of forgiveness and understand its meaning.

That boy? The one you cried thousands of tears over? It will take you a long time to realize he wasn’t worth a damn. Someday you will learn that true love doesn’t include sexual, emotional and verbal abuse. Love isn’t about manipulation and games. It is so much more than that. He wasn’t capable of showing you that. If I could just tell little 16-year-old you to hold on. Your prince charming lives in a town north of you. And he will save your life when you meet him.

College is going to be hard on you. You will miss your parents, sisters and friends more than you ever thought possible. I know you said you were ready to leave. But you aren’t. By the end of your first year, you will come very close to ending your life. But the important thing is, you don’t.

When you’re 22 you will meet the love of your life. He will accept you for exactly who you are. A flawed human being with a lot of love to give. He will make you laugh and cry tears of joy. One day you will sit on the back porch of your college apartment. You will look up at the sky and you will whisper, “Thank you, God, for finally bringing him into my life.”

Eleven years from now, that wonderful man will get down on one knee and pledge his undying love for you. He will hold out a ring to symbolize forever and ask you to be his wife. I’ll just cut to the chase. You say yes. It’s the best decision you’ll ever make. A year later you will vow to love each other all the days of your life.

And two years later, the most earth-shaking, life-changing moment of your life will happen. You will give birth to a son. And he will give you the second chance at happiness that, right now, you think you don’t deserve. And if you’re listening to this thinking, “There’s no way I will ever be a mother!” Well, surprise! God will give you another son and you will feel more complete with two beautiful children to love.

If there’s one thing I can tell you . . . look you straight in the eye and tell you . . . you’re worthy of happiness and most importantly, you’re worthy of God’s love.

You will lose your faith in Him more than I care to tell you. But He will always love you no matter how many mistakes you make.

When you’re the age I am now, you will finally cast your doubts aside and learn to fully trust in the Lord. It will feel so good to know He is on your side. That you don’t have to live this life in fear and anxiety. Although you will struggle at certain times in your life He is faithful to bring you back to happiness every time. You will lose friends, lose jobs and at times, lose hope. But you are so strong and always come out on the other side with a smile on your face.

Oh, 16-year-old Molly. You are so vulnerable, gullible and sensitive. In a sense, you will always stay that way. It is part of what makes you who you are. Keep writing. Keep trying. Keep believing that you’ll make it through another day.

I’m here to tell you that you do. And all the pain you feel now is worth it to make it to the here and now.

Filed Under: Depression, Mommy Moments 9 Comments

BlogHer – One Year Later

July 23, 2012 By Molly

This time last year I was really struggling. My depression and anger were raging. My medicines weren’t right. My anxiety was through the roof. And in a couple weeks I was supposed to fly across the country to the largest blogging conference in the world where I essentially knew no one.

Due to all the personal issues I ended up having a lot of trouble coping while there.

Now a year later, as I watch blogs and twitter and facebook and instagram blow up with anticipation of BlogHer 12, I’m left feeling incredibly sad. I didn’t think not attending would matter that much to me. Turns out it does. A lot.

A year later I’m doing much better. There were long agonizing months to get me where I am mentally. Taking medicines that made me physically ill and emotionally worse. But my medicines and regular doctors appointments have finally stabilized me. I can say with certainty that I am no longer suicidal as I was while at the conference.

I probably would have had a good shot at having fun at the conference this year. There are still so many people I would have liked to see and hug again. There are new online friends that I would have loved to meet too.

I would have liked the chance to say, ”Hi. This is the real Molly. I’m actually a lot of fun if you get to know me.”

But there are no business cards to hand out this year. There are no shopping sprees to buy sparkly things to wear. There are no, Oh my God I can’t wait to meet you in person conversations on twitter.

Don’t get me wrong. I am so happy for every single blogger that has the chance to go this year. The BlogHer conference is an amazing experience. If that’s you, I hope you have the time of your life.

I just wish I could have the time of my life with you.

But just because I’m not going doesn’t mean I can’t hand out my own little piece of advice . . .

Blogging is so important to me. I don’t have the words to say what having this space has meant to me over the past five years. I don’t care how sponsorless and small I am. This means something to me. This small community that I (and you) have created speaks to my heart. Every time someone engages with me through a comment, short or long, I am ever so grateful. Whether it’s on a “look at what I did last week” post or something much more dark and deep. My readers have been through it all with me.

When I came back from the conference last year I made the difficult decision to be open and honest about what happened to me. I bit my lip and hit publish. I was utterly shocked at the outpouring of love and support. Shocked at the amount of people who reached out. Who gave me a little minute of their time to tell me that it’s okay that the conference didn’t go as planned. That there would be a “next time.”

They gave me hope that I would get better. They gave me hope that I could still trust that this blog does good things. For me. For other people.

A while ago I received a handwritten note from a woman who reads my blog. I read it with tears in my eyes. I was so thankful that someone could relate. I helped them see that being real, being imperfect, being vunerable, is okay.

It’s okay to be real, imperfect and vunerable at the conference too.

That’s what I hope everyone gets out of BlogHer 12. I hope you come together as a community. I hope, above all else, that you are YOU and that everyone is accepting of differences. I hope you hug and squeal for a little bit when you meet someone you’ve adored online. And then I hope you take the time to give yourselves a pat on the back. To understand the importance of your daily words.

Because hey. We’re all really doing something important here. No matter what kind of blog we have.

This blogging thing. This platform of millions of blogs all rolled up into one big powerful community.

I’m so proud to be a part of it.

Don’t ever let someone make you feel like what you’re doing is small potatoes. You’re a BIG DEAL.

From the bottom of my heart, friends, have fun at the conference.

Have fun blogging no matter who or where you are.

Filed Under: Blogging, Depression, Friends 12 Comments

It’s not over yet

July 13, 2012 By Molly

I almost published a post last week that was just . . . horrible.

It was basically me telling myself what a loser I am for losing my job and saying that I wasn’t good enough for God to love, blah, blah, blah. Yeah, I was having a really bad day.

I actually had it scheduled to publish and then at the last minute I remembered this post.

POSITIVE

It was supposed to be the one word I concentrated on for 2012. Where did all that confidence in myself go? Where has all my hope gone?

So I lost a job. So what! It’s happened before and I’ve come out the other side okay. I always have.

God is trustworthy. He will never fail me. And no matter how much I think he can’t possibly love a person as broken as I am . . . He does love me. Immeasurably.

I’ve got some big decisions to make. So much so that my head hurts from all the stress. But no matter what I choose, whether it’s right or wrong, life will go on.

So I’m not going to publish that post where I was being totally shitty to myself.

I’m tired of negative-talking myself into a severe depression.

I’m going to try to remain positive instead. Checkity-check myself before I wreck myself.

2012 can still be a great year. It’s not over yet.

Filed Under: Depression 18 Comments

Circus Act

June 6, 2012 By Molly

Sometimes I feel like a circus act. A one man show. I’m out there in the spotlight constantly. All eyes on me. Waiting for me to fail. Waiting to judge me for dropping the balls that I’m juggling.

Sometimes it’s too much. Working, daycare drop-offs and pick-ups, dinner, baths, brushing teeth, bedtime stories and songs and in the morning . . . it starts all over again.

I know this is life. I have to accept it. These years are fleeting and I try to enjoy the time I do have with my boys.

But my mind is so muddled with what I can’t get done or what I didn’t get done. And all the responsibilities pile up and I shut down. My brain literally shuts down. Which is no good for anyone.

Sometimes I feel like I really cannot continue to do it all. Lately I’m feeling like it shows. Like people can tell I’m not happy or that I’m carrying a heavy burden.

I just want to be excited about life again. I want good things to look forward to and knowing that I can accomplish everything I’ve set out to do.

First and foremost is being a mom to my boys. These boys who have stolen my heart (and sometimes my head).

I can’t let my sadness or worries get in the way of my love for them. This job of being a mom can be difficult. But I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

If my life is a circus act then I have to keep juggling. Even when the only applause comes from two sweet boys who really do love their mama.

linking up with Shell for Pour Your Heart Out.

Filed Under: Depression, Mommy Moments, Work 6 Comments

The Mail

May 16, 2012 By Molly

It is difficult to explain depression to someone who has never truly been depressed. I can talk to you about sadness and anxiety until I’m blue in the face. And you can nod your head and say, “that really sucks” in your best supportive tone. But you may still be thinking that I’m just down in the dumps and need to pull myself out of it.

As a writer, I’m always looking for new ways to describe what it’s like to be depressed. I write about this stuff because it may help someone be a better friend in the future.

I am so easily overwhelmed when I’m on the downhill slide. The littlest task can set me on a path of despair and fear.

Take, for instance, the mail.

My mind is so muddled with empty and sad thoughts that I forget to go to the mailbox for a few days. When I finally remember it is overflowing. I let out a sigh of frustration and gather it in my hands. I take it inside and lay it out on the counter. I have good intentions of going through it. Tossing the junk mail, shredding documents and paying any extra bills that come in. But glancing at it, my mind begins to shut down. I pile it into a neat stack and store it next to the coffee maker.

I see it every morning, every afternoon, every night. It stares and begs, open me, open me, open me. But I haven’t the energy to face it. So it stays there, the pile growing each day.

I know I need to open it but just looking at it overwhelms me to the point that I have to leave the room. I feel tired thinking about sorting through it. It’s the same with email.

That’s when I know I’m in a depression. When the mail is piled high it’s a tell tale sign that something is wrong.

Let me be clear – this does not mean I am LAZY. No, I’m an adult. I know what needs to be done. But it isn’t that easy for my mind. I get extremely overwhelmed and my first reaction is to hide from whatever is making me anxious.

Lately, I’ve been heading to bed after I put the boys to sleep. Sometimes it feels like it’s all I can do to make it there. And once I’m there I can’t get up.

I’m so tired. So very tired.

That’s what depression does to you. It exhausts your mind. It exhausts your body. It ROBS you of energy. It ROBS you of your will and your strength and your light.

I don’t know why. I don’t know how it is capable of doing this even while taking three medications.

The truth is – it’s not fair.

I want to be a good mom and a good wife and a good person overall. I want to keep up with housework and make everyone happy, myself included.

Depression is like a leaky faucet. You try to tighten the plumbing but you still drip, drip, drip anyway.

When the simple task of getting the mail seems impossible – that’s when I know.

I know there’s a leak.

Linking up with Pour Your Heart Out.

Filed Under: Depression 19 Comments

waiting for me

April 5, 2012 By Molly

I keep coming to this space. Hurriedly clicking the keyboard watching letters form words. Then holding the delete button until they’re all gone. I’m not working this week and I’ve very purposefully taken some of my “alone” time to reflect on what my life is right now.

I wish I could say I’m at a place where I’m happy. There are moments of happiness but overall I am forlorn and tearful. And once again I don’t really know why.

I just got done reading Bloom by Kelle Hampton (run, don’t walk, to the bookstore). I cried through much of it. Not because I’m sad for her and what she had to go through to get to a good place. No, it’s quite the opposite.

She is so vibrant and full of life and positive. She’s a hilarious writer and at the same time her words can run over your heart with the weight of a semi-truck. It was a gift that her book landed on my doorstep on a rainy day when I actually had time to read. And read it I did. In total, it only took me a couple nap times and a late night to finish it.

I sit here tonight, words and thoughts muddying my head, and I don’t know what to say. But I’m going to try to say it anyway.

I want something to happen to me. Something BIG. Something unexpected that changes me.

Obviously, I don’t want it to be something bad. But I feel like I need something BIG to wake me up. Smack me. Walk all over me until I feel pain and hurt and tell it to please stop because I can’t breathe.

I could make another call to my psychiatrist. A call that I’ve made many times before.

“What seems to be the problem, Molly?”

“I just don’t think my meds are working like they should be,” I would tell him. “They seem to work for a little while and then the black hole comes again and swallows me up.”

“Well, come back in. We’ll move some things around. Change your dosage. We’ll get you to where you want to be.”

So I go and I visit him and there’s stopping one med and starting an entirely different med and don’t forget, there are dosage changes to an old med. And hello, new side effects!

Eighteen years of this. EIGHTEEN years of popping necessary pills and struggling to feel stable enough to even THINK about the possibility of being happy. This shit isn’t easy.

So I sit here trying to think of what else I can do. I’ve done so much more this time.

I’ve kept a mood journal only to discover that yes, I have extreme mood swings (um, mood disorder, duh!).

I’m exercising but thanks to a new birth control pill, I just keep gaining weight, which makes me feel even worse about myself.

So I think about myself and my life and what I really want from it all. I only get the gift of life once. And I feel like I’m wasting it. Who knows, maybe it’s already wasted and I will never be the person I thought I would be. Maybe I already got my chance(s) and it’s over.

All I know is – something BIG is going to have to happen to pull me out of whatever I’ve gotten myself into.

It was June of last year that this all started. Ten months ago. Although I’ve had periods where I thought I was getting better, it is short-lived and I’m soon knocked down again. All this beautiful life surrounding me and I can still barely muster a smile.

Reading Kelle’s book made me want what she has. No, I don’t mean a daughter with Down Syndrome specifically. What I mean is – a new pair of glasses with which to see the world. The unexpected changed the person she is and made her want to be a better human being. I want that. I need something to change my perspective on life.

I know I’m so blessed to have what I have. Two beautiful sons whose smiles are sometimes the only thing that keeps me afloat. I say I’m blessed all the time. But maybe I’m not really FEELING it. I want to feel it. I want to do something that drastically changes my life and the life of my family. For the better, of course.

I know there is something out there. Something I’m supposed to be doing or seeing or changing. But I’m stagnant. Frozen. Bored. I’ve gotten comfortable with my pain and God damn it, I don’t want to be comfortable anymore.

But what is it? Where is this change? How long will I have to wait to feel this change within me?

I’m sorry to have to put you all through reading another sad post. Believe me, I would rather not have to write any of this. I wish I could be one of those bloggers that posts how-tos on braiding your hair or how to clean your oven the eco-friendly way. Sorry to disappoint but my hair is air-dried after being brushed through once and my oven hasn’t been cleaned since we moved in nearly a year ago. I promised you I would keep it real here.

I hope I can figure this out. I hope I can find a combination of doctors and holy-hell-was-that-some-good-soul-searching-change.

I desperately want to be happy. Contrary to how I come across, I always have.

I’ve been waiting for it. But maybe I’ve got it wrong.

Maybe whatever it is, it’s waiting for me.

Filed Under: Depression, Mommy Moments 18 Comments

5 things I’m doing to beat depression

February 7, 2012 By Molly

image via pinterest

If you don’t already know this, I’ve been busting my butt to beat a severe depressive episode that began in June of 2011. I think it’s safe to say that I’m finally in the “safe” zone as I like to call it. It took me six long months and a lot (A LOT!) of medication and dosage changes to get me to a good, stable place.

For the past 18 years, I have used a combination of medication and therapy to pull me through these hard times. But I realized something last fall. After struggling with manic/depressive episodes for most of my life, maybe it’s going to take more than just those two things to stay well.

I have listened to my therapist(s) tell me of the different options for controlling the symptoms of bipolar disorder. But I have never taken their advice.

Until now . . .

Here are five (new to me) things I’m doing to beat depression.

1. Exercise: The benefits of exercise on the brain have been proven time and time again. Well, I am finally giving it a try. I am going the the gym at least twice a week specifically for that extra release of endorphins. It has gotten to the point where when I have a bad day, I kind of crave a run on the treadmill. I didn’t go at all last week because I was sick and I can definitely tell the difference in my mood.

2. Lightbox Therapy: I’m actually surprised I never tried this before. After discussing with my therapist a possible pattern involving becoming more depressed in the winter time, she recommended I purchase a lightbox and spend 20 minutes under the light each day. I am currently researching which one would be best for me. My insurance company will even pay for mine! I’m excited to see the benefits that an extra boost of make-believe sunshine will do for my spirits.

3. Keeping a Mood Journal: I have actually done this before for a brief period of time. But I am starting it back up with the help of a handy iphone app! There are different options but the one I use is called Moody Me and is available to download for free. The thing about moods is that you can often find a pattern. I want to keep track of when I am more irritable than usual and see if it is the same week to week or month to month. Keeping a mood journal is about increasing self-awareness of my illness and I’m excited to see how it helps with my recovery.

4. Keeping a Gratitude Journal: I know, I know. What is this blog coming to? Are the puppies and rainbows ever going to go away? Well, I’m not sure because the positive attitude seems to be working for me. We could all use a little perspective. Sitting down at night after my busy day is over and concentrating on all the GOOD that happened over the course of the day is really good for me. There is way too much negativity in my brain. Writing all the positive things out is sure to have a lasting effect on my mood.

5. Taking Supplements: It may seem ridiculously simple but taking vitamins to supplement my diet has its benefits. Vitamin D and Fish Oil, specifically, have been proven to help with depression. Now don’t think for one second that I’m replacing my regular medications with these vitamins. I am not. It’s just difficult to keep up with a perfectly balanced diet that includes everything I need to stay well. So I added them to my nightly routine and I’m hoping it pays off.

This post brought to you by – a brand new year, a brand new me, a brand new outlook on life