Sharing the wisdom of a friend.....

I follow the blog of a fellow long-term depression sufferer who nearly without exception seems to blog what is in my head too...(FREAKYYYYY).

Her last two posts in particular have really struck home for me as they cover conversations I also have had in the last week - one to do with the typical "But you don't look/act/seem depressed" and the other about "Exercise does wonders for people with depression" (this one I only had with my Psychiatrist yesterday - so don't even get me started on that particular conversation!).

I want to share these posts with you because - they are words I would say - but I want to give her the credit she deserves cos we're both just 'sisters living with the black trying to make it out one day at a time'.

This is one is something I struggle with often - when I have my "doing life" face on and I am being efficient and getting work done and enjoying being around people and especially at GEBC Coffee Group, I don't look like I am suffering from anything let alone a sometimes crippling depression, extreme pain from the fibromyalgia or deathly fatigue from the M.E.

Fighting the Darkness: My Secret Battle with Depression: Explaining Depression: "The other night I went for a mountain bike ride with a friend. As we got started I told her that I'd be taking it a little easy as I was fee..."

 

 

Fighting the Darkness: My Secret Battle with Depression: Is exercise really an option?: "As I was searching the net for ways to help depression, I came across a frequently used recommendation - exercise. I chuckled a little when ..."

This is very 'word in season' as I'm desperately trying to get back on the exercise wagon.  After finishing up looking after my neice in March I no longer even go for walks I realised on Tuesday during a consult with my Natruropath.  And then the Psychiatrist started in on me yesterday - just after I explained to him I'm still struggling with the chosing to be alive some days and other days all my energy goes to the getting up and living a life.

Its a catch 22 because I KNOW the endorphines are great and super useful and I know how wonderful exercise makes me feel (especially when it was 6 times a week at the gym and weights and boxing and all the stuff I loved!) AND I know that doing pilates or yoga would be really beneficial for my anxiety and helping learn to beathe better and the stretching would be good for the fibro.  BUT its just ANOTHER thing to add to the list of things I'm failing at - and also another thing on my "Just One Step At A Time" plan.

I'm going to try and do some more walking.  Try to get the pilates video out.  Maybe even find a group to join I can afford.  Who knows.......this blog is part of the ".....One Step At A Time" plan too and I'm doing that......

Who Am I Now....

I wrote this at a summer writing course in January - I think its still relevant (four months later) so here goes....

I am Ivana, a daughter, a friend, a lover of all things creative, a daughter of God, a princess in His kingdom, desperately seeking her place in this world.

I am a friend of many amazing wonderful, talented, interesting and eclectic people. I love the way my friendships break age and social stereotypes. I love that people who are from so many walks of life experiences and stages influence my life.

I am a lover waiting to be loved, waiting for his arrival, but trusting in Him, my great ‘I am’, my King, to provide him (the lower case ‘h’ him) when He (the capital ‘H’ He) is ready.

I’m impatient, I’m lonely, I’m sad, but I’m hanging on to hope and trust that he is coming.

I am a ‘mother’ in the spiritual realm. I am an Aunty. A proud, excited – overly excited – overly proud Aunty to more than I can count.

I am an influencer and encourager of many.

I am a mentor and friend who loves unconditionally, without judgement and who will champion their cause, their life and loves to the end of time.

I am the love of my God’s life. I am His daughter, princess and flower.

I am a mental health patient trying to find the answers to my depths of despair and hurt and solutions to my crisis and why I cannot seem to let go of my fears.

I am a good Croatian daughter. Doing my duty. Doing the expected (except getting married to a good Croatian boy – or any boy for that matter!). I am my Mother’s daughter and do my duty. Clean the dishes, do the kitchen. Visit the graves. Serve the food, men, family. I pick up the uncles and aunties. I do the hospital visits and I put up with the shit – because I am my Mother’s daughter.

I am a work in progress – I hope – I know (in my stronger hours).