Real Talk - Depression

Okay. Time for some real talk. A friend of mine contacted me this week, and asked me to write a blog about depression. She's never dealt with it herself, but her sister is in a difficult place emotionally, and she wanted some perspective. Since I'm pretty much an open book, (and her sister isn't, at this point) she asked me for insight on what it's like to have depression - what goes on in my head - and what things I could suggest that have helped me.

So. Little bit of backstory - I grew up in a mentally, physically, and sexually abusive household. My father was an alcoholic, and my mother was a manic depressive codependent "dry drunk." "Dry drunk" basically means she had all the destructive behavior of an alcoholic, although she had quit drinking before I was born.

My father never wanted children, and if he had to have one, he certainly didn't want another girl (he had two by a previous marriage). My mother, on the other hand, had suffered a miscarriage the year before getting pregnant with me, and had become obsessed with having a baby. She literally prayed on the hour every hour for months. When she finally became pregnant, she believed I was an angel sent from Heaven. Like, a real, literal angel. If you think that can't screw a kid up, you're all kinds of wrong.

Anyhow. So, my childhood sucked giant hairy donkey balls for a lot of reasons. When I finally started seeing a therapist - after I'd moved out of my parents' house - I was diagnosed with a laundry list of things, including: PTSD, acute depression, acute anxiety, social phobia, bipolar, and dyslexia. However, by that time, I'd invented so many coping strategies that she felt I didn't need medication.

So what does all that mean? Well, the PTSD part means that certain things upset me - things that probably don't upset you, or don't upset you as much. Loud noises, for one. I startle very easily, and it can take a while to calm back down. For example, you might hear glass shattering and think "what did the cats knock over now?" I, on the other hand, am instantly mentally transported to a time in my childhood when the sound of glass breaking was a very, very bad thing. Coping strategies for this are kinda situational. Typically, I'll ground myself by touching something in the room - a chair or whatever - or looking at something specific, and reminding myself that this item didn't exist in my life back then, therefore I am not in my life back then. What can a person do to help? When avoidable, don't make loud noises. When not avoidable, warn me. Hubby and The Boy are very good about saying "loud sound" before a loud sound. I may still startle, but it's not nearly as bad because I'm expecting it.

The acute depression part means that sometimes I'm just sad. There's no specific reason. Nothing happened to make me sad. Nobody died, my puppy didn't get run over. In fact, I may be having a really good day otherwise. Coping strategy? Focusing on the positive things. Reminding myself that it will pass, because it has come and gone before, and I'm still here. What can you do to help? That's a hard question to answer. Ultimately, nothing. You cannot fix me. You cannot make my depression go away. You can however, make it easier by being nice to me. If you know I hate to do the dishes, then do the dishes. If you know I love fresh flowers, then stop by with fresh flowers - they don't have to be store bought, handpicked from the side of the road is just as good. If you know I like Star Trek or Supernatural, offer to watch a show with me. Or, better yet, ask me something about one of them. Ask me to explain something you don't understand, or ask for my opinion on something. Ask me about a time in my life that was fun, like a convention I attended.

Here's the thing: it's often very hard to find something that will truly bring me joy while I'm depressed. It's that way for most of us. So if your depressed friend wants to watch "Lake Placid" for the 900th time, watch it with them. If they want to color in a coloring book even though they're 40 years old, color with them. If they call you up one evening and want to ramble on about a recipe they tried, mute the TV and listen to them. If they want to sit on the couch and snuggle up to you while you read a book, let them. Things that seem trivial to you are monumental to us.

My acute anxiety means that I'm anxious about everything, all the time. Even right now, writing this, I'm worried I'm going to say the wrong thing and upset someone, or make someone mad. I live in a constant state of apology - I'm already sorry for whatever I'm going to screw up, and I know I'm going to screw something up because I can't do anything right. And I'm sorry that I'm sorry, because I know I apologize too much and that makes people uncomfortable, and for that, I'm sorry. See what I mean?

There are a couple ways to cope with the anxiety. For me, it's just constantly reminding myself that nothing is Earth-shattering. Barring killing someone, anything I screw up can be fixed. Maybe not easily, but fixed nonetheless. I haven't yet found a way that someone can help with this, other than keeping along those same lines - just reminding me that nothing is really going to end if I make a mistake. There's a quote I like: "The world will not end today - it's already tomorrow in Australia."

When you look at me, you see me. Curly hair, big, brown labrador retriever eyes, and round cheeks. When I look at me, I see every blemish on my skin, every scar, and they stand out like neon signs. I see everything I've ever failed at. I see everyone I've ever let down. I see every mistake I've ever made, be it a low grade or crashing my husband's car into a pole seven years ago. I see every time I wasn't good enough for my parents. Where you see a whole person, I see tainted, broken pieces.

Yesterday I was outside working in my backyard - raking leaves, pulling weeds, that sort of thing. I heard a bird chirping and looked up at my neighbor's tree to see this little house sparrow. I stopped what I was doing to watch it. After a few minutes, the bird looked at me and then flew away. It took me a solid five minutes of positive self talk, while I pulled weeds, to convince myself that the bird hadn't flown away because it knew I wasn't good enough to share space with it.

One of my coping strategies is this dollhouse Hubby and The Boy made me, which houses my sock monkey family. I like to dress them up and stage different things like tea parties, and then I share the pictures on their Facebook page. I took them outside one day to stage a camping scene, and during the process, misplaced the littlest one, Damien. I freaked the hell out. I was two seconds short of running  into the house and screaming for Hubby to help me find him when it occurred to me - he's an inanimate object. He didn't walk off by himself.

This is what it's like in my head. This is what it's like in a lot of people's heads.

What can you do to make it better? Not a lot. The number one thing you can do is be supportive. Avoid saying things like "that's silly," or "you know better." Because no, it's not silly, and no, I don't know better. I don't know that I'm good enough. Try to avoid saying "I know what you mean/feel." No, quite frankly, you don't. Even if you have the same conditions as I do, everyone's experience is different. You don't know what it's like in my head unless I've told you. You can say, instead, "I understand that you're anxious/upset/sad," and then try to relate something to me. "A few years ago, this thing happened to me that made me anxious. I remember what that felt like. It may not be the exactly the same for you, but I respect what you're feeling. When I'm feeling this way, this thing helps." For God's sake, don't say "don't get upset." That's just invalidating, no matter if you have depression and anxiety or not. Everyone has the right to their own feelings.

Above all, try to understand that you can't fix it, and you can't expect us to respond 100% of the time. Sometimes, even though I know something should fill me to bursting with joy, all I can manage is a small smile. Understand the brilliance of that smile, though. Understand that whatever you did, it got through. Even if I can't give you the reaction you want or deserve, you did get through. Be patient. Nobody wants to be this way. Given a choice of any sort of personality traits I could have, I wouldn't pick any of the things I named off above. If there was a magic pill I could take and all this would go away, I'd take it in a heartbeat. I don't get depressed for attention. Trust me - I've got nice tits and plush lips - if I wanted attention, I could easily get it. Understand that, by and large, the issues I have are not my fault. Rather, they are a result of years upon years of torturous treatment from my parents. The things I endured left permanent marks on my psyche. Some of them have gotten better with time, but some of them haven't.

And understand that, all in all, I'm okay. Being depressed doesn't mean I'm dysfunctional. I raised two kids and ran a multi-million dollar company, all while dealing with my issues. I may be broken, in my own way of thinking about myself, but I'm not without value and beauty. Although depressed, I am kind, giving, loving, and compassionate. Although anxious, I am often ridiculously brave, especially when it comes to helping others. Although socially phobic, I will force myself out into the world and show up, especially when someone needs me. Although bipolar, I will stop what I'm doing and control my mood swings long enough to help you or to offer you comfort.

Although broken, I have worth. Although tired, I will fight.

#AlwaysKeepFighting

River Road Expo - April 2015 - The Recap & The Photos

River Road Expo was Sunday, April 19th at Tioga Downs. I was there as a representative of the USS Sirius, and had a fabulous time! Some of the USS Serling crew came and hung out with us!

2015 Convention Schedule

Well, we're getting down to the wire for planning/purchasing tickets for a couple things, and I'm still unemployed.

So...

River Road Expo 4/19/15  - GOING - it's free
http://www.riverroadexpo.com/2015/02/2015-guests-announced.html

Free Comic Book Day 5/2/15  - GOING. It's free and a couple blocks away
https://www.facebook.com/events/1554384348164193/

Ithacon 40 5/2/15  - Most likely NOT going
http://www.comicbookclub.org/

Ottawa Comiccon 5/8/15 – 5/10/15  - Most likely NOT going

http://www.ottawacomiccon.com/

Star Trek Chicago 6/12/15 – 6/14/15 - Yeeaaahhh...No. And believe me - I'm upset. #WalterKoenig
http://www.creationent.com/calendar.htm#stchi 

Shore Leave 8/7/15 - 8/9/15 - CROSSING MY FINGERS BECAUSE #JohnBarrowman

Twin Tiers Comic-Con 8/15/15 – 8/16/15 - Going as Sirius rep, not free but the raffle usually covers it
http://www.twintierscomiccon.com/

Robercon 9/26/15 – 9/27/15 - Going b/c by being a panelist I can get in for free

http://www.roberson.org/exhibits-events/robercon-roberson-scifi-convention/

STARFLEET Region 7 Conference - 10/2/15 - 10/4/15 - Probably not.  

https://www.eventbrite.com/e/2015-region-7-conference-registration-15683464665

Humble Pie

What a difference a year makes. This time last year, I had become unemployed. I was living off a chunk of savings, unemployment, and credit cards.

Now? All three are gone. Well, the credit cards are still there, they're just maxed out, over limit, and in collections. Win.

Anyhow. I started a GoFundMe, to try and help pay for John's medical bills, and to maybe fix my car. We're in collections for the remainder of his infusion fees. We've already been sued over one amount. As in, a lawyer contacted us. Fortunately, it was $16. Yes. You read that right. The hospital sent a $16.00 bill to a *lawyer* and sued us to have it paid.

My fear is that they will eventually cut off his services, and if they do that, he will get sick and he will die. Now, to be clear, they haven't threatened to do that. But let's face it - they're not going to let this go on forever, and I'm still unemployed.

So I'm asking for help. Not for me, but for him. Help with his medical bills, and help with my car so that he doesn't have to drive me around everywhere.

Here is the link:

http://www.gofundme.com/oam98c

I understand if you can't (or don't want to) contribute. But if you could please share it around, I would be forever in your debt.

Thank you.

Oh Vulcan, My Vulcan

“Are you okay?” seems to be the question of the day. It’s the first thing people ask me in person, and the first thing people ask me via text. And the answer is no. I’m not at all okay. I’m pretty far from okay.

It’s been 7 days since Leonard Nimoy passed away, and I am still not okay. And I don’t know when I will be.

That, I think, is the measure of his greatness. I never met him. I’ve sat in on two Skype calls, but I’ve never seen him in person. I’m a nameless fan in the galaxy of Star Trek. But he is dead, this man I never even met, and I am not okay. I can only hope to inspire that kind of love before I leave this world.

As children watching our idols on television and in film, it never occurs to us that they’re aging before our eyes. It never occurs to us that, when we are entering our thirties and forties, they might be entering their seventies and eighties. We never conceive of a day when they will no longer be alive. We become especially spoiled by shows like Star Trek, where the hero rarely ever dies, and even when he does, sometimes he doesn’t stay dead. Likewise, we often don’t understand their importance to us until we’re grown.

I could talk about Leonard Nimoy’s impact on my childhood. About how, living through the darkness of emotional, physical, and sexual abuse at the hands of my parents, “Star Trek” was one of the few cherished bright things I had.

I could talk about how, later in my life, as a bisexual teenager in a Southern Baptist family, I identified with Spock more than anyone in my “real life.”

I could talk about his devotion to Judaism, and how I always felt like a bad Jew who could never live up to his example. Seriously—I have a plastic, light up menorah and I eat bacon—shamelessly. I’m the definition of a bad Jew.

I could talk about his Full Body Project, where he photographed overweight women as if they were the societal “normal” beauties, because to him, they were. He didn’t see size when he looked at them, he saw their hearts and souls and he thought they were beautiful. And he was right. As an overweight female in a society that brands me as subpar, and judges me unworthy before they even know me, he made me feel like a beauty queen.

I could talk about all those things and so many more. The problem isn't that I don't know what the world looks like without him. The problem is that I do. And it's not a world I like.

I think, above everything else, that is his true legacy—his far-reaching impact on everyday people.

We are Leonard Nimoy’s legacy.

Rest in peace, Leonard. You have been, and always shall be, my unicorn.

Leonard Nimoy

My heart is broken.

I can't even breathe.

You can't be gone. You just...can't. It's not fair.

I wasn't ready to say goodbye yet.

I just... I don't even...

River Road Expo - November 2014

River Road rocks!!! So, River Road happens twice a year - once in April and once in November - up at Tioga Downs Casino. Not only do you get to have fun with fellow geeks and cosplayers, there's also a bar and the most amazing buffet. Plus, gambling, if you're into that.

It's a great smaller convention. Perfect for a laid back day or a first timer. It's heavy on the comic book end, but there are also lots of local artists, authors, and artisans.

The past couple years we've gone as representatives of the Sirius, and that's what we did last year. I don't have a ton of recap, so here's the photos: