Muses, and confessions.

HELLO BLOGOSPHERE.

This is pax domini for realsies, I just transferred to an account that uses the gmail that I use at my university for the general ease of everything. amator deus is Latin for lover of God, which is what I am :D


So I'm going to share something with you guys. I have a few problems.
One is an anxiety problem. I have what I describe as an "inappropriate panic reaction" to situations; that is, where normal people would feel, say, butterflies in their tummy, I begin to freak out. Occasionally I'll lapse into a panic attack. For me, panic attacks consist of A) wanting to run in the other direction OR curl up in a ball; B) feeling like my heart is trying to crawl out of my throat; C) heart pounding so hard it feels like it's about to burst out of my chest; D) the "lump in the throat" sensation without the tear pricks; and of course, E) general PANIC. Sometimes I just have a panic attack because my brain decides it wants too.

I love when that happens.
(I don't actually love when that happens).

Another problem is that I have a little thing called dysthymia. It's usually described as "mild depression", but that's an insult to everyone person who suffers from that.
Here's a couple of definitions, courtesy of MedicineNet.com

Major depression: A disease with certain characteristic signs and symptoms that interferes with the ability to work, sleep, eat, and enjoy once pleasurable activities.The characteristic signs and symptoms of major depression include loss of interest in activities that were once interesting or enjoyable (...); a persistently sad, anxious or empty mood; feelings of hopelessness, pessimism, guilt, worthlessness, or helplessness; social withdrawal; unusual fatigue, low energy level, a feeling of being slowed down; sleep disturbance with insomnia, early-morning awakening, or oversleeping; trouble concentrating, remembering, or making decisions; unusual restlessness or irritability; persistent physical problems such as headaches, digestive disorders, or chronic pain that do not respond to treatment; thoughts of death or suicide or suicide attempts. Disabling episodes of major depression can occur once or a number of times in a lifetime.

Depression, dysthymia: A type of depression involving long-term, chronic symptoms that are not disabling, but keep a person from functioning at "full steam" or from feeling good. Dysthymia is a less severe type of depression than what is accorded the diagnosis of major depression. However, people with dysthymia may also sometimes experience major depressive episodes, suggesting that there is a continuum between dysthymia and major depression.

So.
--- Major depression means that you occasionally have spells where you are broken. As a psych major, I know that the diagnosis for this disorder requires a minimum of 2 weeks with the symptoms.
--- Dysthymia means that you always feel broken. Not quite as broken as you feel during a major depressive spell, sure, but the thing is, you have those too. Oh, and the minimum required time with the symptoms? 3 years.

Sure, sure, dysthymia is "mild depression". But call me crazy, 'cause I would way rather have the first disorder than the second.

I've suffered greatly since I was about twelve, because I knew that I didn't feel quite right, but I was also told by my doctor and my family that I wasn't depressed. Which I wasn't. I was just....flat. But I decided recently to screw them all, and I went to a doctor at my school and requested an antidepressant.

Do you know how wrong it is that the feeling of happiness for no reason excites me? I haven't felt this way since I was a kid. I laugh again, and I smile just because I can, and I enjoy going out and having fun. For the first time in a long time I'm dating and I'm enjoying it. I don't feel broken anymore.
I needed medication. Those lines I was being handed, that there were people worse than me out there, that I wasn't truly depressed, they were full of garbage.
I giggle now. I haven't giggled since I was six.
And now when I'm lying on my couch and I feel the familiar dark shadows begin to settle over my shoulders, I don't curl up and shiver and begin shaking and crying. I just take a deep breath, and I can walk it off. That's pretty amazing, too.


I bear what I now describe as my battle scars. I'm inordinately proud of them, because I over came them, and they're all fading. They're proof of what I went through, of my desperate solution to my sleep-killing panic attacks.

Can you see them? They're fading, but they're there.

These were my proof. When I went back to my family doctor, knowing he would not be impressed that I'm on medication for a problem he thinks doesn't need to be medicated, I rolled up my sleeves and pointed to the lines etched into my skin. I told him I was tired of wishing I was dead, tired of craving the feeling of pain.
I needed help, and I got it.


I feel so happy. I keep finding myself wondering what happened that could put me in such a good mood, then I remember that I can actually just be in one without having any particular reason. Life puts me in a good mood. It never used to.


An important aspect of this post is God.
I know I haven't mentioned Him at all, but let's face it: I panic when a guy compliments me. How on Earth was I ever able to confess to my best friend that I think I needed help? Where did I find the courage to book an appointment at the Health and Counselling Centre, and confess everything to a therapist, and find a doctor and explain what I knew I needed? I didn't have that in me; the thought even now of going to do that makes me feel nauseated.
The answer, of course, is that I had help from a certain Man Upstairs.

I love you, Lord. Thank You for showing me that You love me, too.

I'd like to end this post in a little prayer.

I pray for all of you, and all of your friends and family and loved ones. I pray that you find your inner strength, and you allow yourself to admit that sometimes you need help, especially from God. I pray you are able to do what you need to, whatever that may be.

I love you all.

XO,
amicum et sororem tuum
Your friend and sister,

amator deus
SK

Tidbits: Comfort renewed, and links to boot

Do you remember this post? That's the one about the time God gave me a hug via rainfall...

Well, if you liked it then YOU'RE IN LUCK! Because for my Writer's Craft class, we were told to write about an intimate experience with Mother Nature, and that is the experience I wrote about. It's a smidgeon longer, but I think it's rather better. I was pleased with how it turned out...
So yeah. Here's a link: BAM! (If you go to the link, then you can scope my other stuff, too...nudgenudgewinkwink). And here it is, text-style:

My mom and I seem to be incapable of arguing with one another. This is not to say that we never argue, but rather that one or both of us will end up crying about it soon after. So when I say that after a particularly loud argument I stormed into my room, slammed the door, collapsed on my bed and began to sob, you will know that it was not an unusual end of a fight for me.
On this particular day, though, the argument seemed to be only the thing that tipped me over the edge. There were other things that were behind the tears—stress, homework, frustration, and hormonal unbalance from it being that time of the month again—and all of these causes together are what made a few minutes of angry tears turn into a half hour of gut-wrenching sobbing.
It felt like I had been holding tears inside of me and now that they had an exit, they were tearing out as quickly and as aggressively as they could. It frightened me, this savage way in which I was crying, and that made me sob even harder.
I curled up into a little ball on my bed, forehead pressed the cool, green surface of my wall, and choked down my heaves. You see, pride is an ugly thing. I had just argued with my mom, so even though I was no longer mad at her I didn't want her to comfort me, and she have would if she heard me cry.
But yet...I did. I did want my mom to come running to my side, to have her pull me into her arms, smooth my hair and tell me that it was alright, that she still loves me. What is it about a mother's embrace that is so inordinately warm and comforting? I craved that assurance, my friends, but my pride did not. My pride wanted nothing to do with her, and so I was alone in my misery.
I felt terrified of the silence that surrounded me outside of my cries, and even more terrified of the murmur of sounds outside my door. I'm not sure what was making me so scared, but my fear felt very real, regardless of how unreasonable it was.
Even the weather outside had lent itself to my mood, for as the day wore on the sky had clouded, then gone from fluffy and white to black, dark, and so typically brooding. Likewise, I had gone from cheerful to irritable and, as I said before, so typically brooding. I have no doubts that my mood had played a large part in the start of my argument, but that knowledge would not have been useful to me then.
I needed someone there with me so I silently called out to my Lord, but I was met by a stony silence. With that, I knew that I had been abandoned by everything I needed, everyone I needed. Another sob flew from my mouth and my stomach tightened. Was I really capable of creating such a guttural sound? I shivered. Now I was terrified of myself, too.
My fists clenched in tight little balls, I tried to curb my crying. I had indulged in this weakness for too long, and it needed to stop. Now. But try as I might, I couldn't make it stop. I didn't even know what I was crying about anymore, certainly not that argument. My grief was rooted deep, so I gave in and stopped fighting against it.
Through the hiccupping sound that echoed in my ears, I heard something. It was faint and barely perceptible, and I had just chosen to ignore it when I heard it again, louder this time. I listened closer then swallowed hard, because it was a beastly sound, like an animal clawing to get in.
I racked my mind for what it could be. I live on the second floor, so whatever was clawing—beating, now—wasn't an idly curious passerby. This thing wanted in, badly, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
I strained my ears to the sounds and curled even closer to my wall, instinctually protecting my underbelly and exposing my bony back. While I lay there waiting for hell-knew-what to finally break through my window, I realized exactly what was scratching so feverishly:
Rain.
Those angry clouds had finally released their torrents, slowly at first, then throwing it down with enough force to make my window rattle in its frame. They were so thick and dark that I couldn't tell if the sun had set or not.
Rain is an interesting thing for me. I find it mesmerizing, with its steady rhythm and occasional peals of thunder. During a summer downpour, I can often be found outside with my arms stretched out on either side of me and my face tilted up at the sky, welcoming the water. My dad sometimes asks me why I do this, and I patiently explain to him that the rain is so pure, so precious, that it feels like God is reaching down and hugging me. Dad doesn't usually understand what I mean once I say this, as he is a practical sort of person with little use for dreamy words. So he leaves me alone in the rain and I stand there, soaked to the bone and completely content. I don't need to be standing in it for this feeling to come; the mere presence fills me with this peace that flows to every extremity. And it always has this effect. Always.
Slowly, I came back to myself, and realized that I had stopped crying, first stopped by my fear, then kept away by my awe and fascination. The sharp, hurting sensation had fled my chest and I no longer felt like was going to suddenly start sobbing uncontrollably all over again.
I began smiling as I realized, then, that I hadn't been ignored. I hadn't been abandoned. I had needed a hug desperately, and that prayer was answered in a completely different way from what I was expecting. But in its sudden, unanticipated arrival, that rainy hug soothed me more than any sought-after comfort could have done.


:)
~Godspede

P.S. My DeviantArt page's link is ever-present...just click on the tab at the top of this page that says "Links you might like" and it's under there.