holistic treatment for depression and anxiety
From one side of the fence to the other side, I cannot begin to tell you how I got here. The one thing I can tell you, however, is that "yes, life is worth living" and I am proof! Three years ago the title of this blog would have been "no, life is crap and I am outta here...." Seriously, that is just about where this fabulous creation called stress lead me. That tiny, little word is full of giant repercussions. Never would I have thought that this word would work its way so quietly into my whole being. It snuck up on me and "bam" it had me in its hawk-like claws...piercing my whole being and not letting go for anything. I felt helpless against "it," like it was my enemy and it wanted to destroy me no matter what. Daily I would try to lift my spirits up and see the "positive" side of life but the stress continually grabbed me and dragged me deeper and deeper into a great abyss. This lead into anxiety and then that word no one wants to hear - "depression." Oh no, not me! "I" cannot be depressed, what the heck is that? I mean, I am Superwoman, right? Yeah, with a capital "S"...I could raise two boys who decided while their dad was away at sea to test my skills against those with the local fire marshals, police, guidance counselors, principals, neighbors and lawyers while taking care of a home, yard, pool, bills, a full time job, family drama, mother and mother-in-law all while smiling and doing yoga! Wasn't this normal?
So, when this body of mine started breaking down, my logical mind said "hey, what horrible disease do I have?" I mean, literally my body was diminishing before my eyes and I had every symptom of every disease you could imagine. No kidding! I was poked, prodded, tested, scanned, x-rayed, scoped, biopsied, etc. I had so many x-rays and CT scans I should glow and I was the equivalent of a human pincushion. My clothes were falling from my body to such a degree that the safety pins that I put on each side of my pants were not even holding them up anymore. I thought they were a fashion statement, however. I was ok with this, my friends and family were not. "Your depressed" was the word I would hear but the thought of watching another commercial for Cymbalta or any of the other million drugs for depression really didn't do much for me. Did you ever notice when you have something wrong with you, every commercial on television is about that problem? What was wrong with everyone, I was sick, not depressed and just because I totally stopped sleeping - no lie - was no reason for alarm. I suppose once I couldn't concentrate or drive a car anymore was about the time I started to consider I might be depressed.
For anyone interested in the rest of this story, check in tomorrow night. I promise, it sounds bleak but there is an incredible silver lining!!