The biggest challenges of starting the new year as someone with depression

The new year is always thought to be a time of growth and new beginnings, but as someone with depression, the new year can be anything but. It’s cold, the days are short & it gets dark early (I’m in the Midwest). Motivation is low for people without depression and is extremely low for people with depression. One would think that the new year would be a great time to add a resolution about self-care or exercise or something to help with one’s mental illness, but I’ve found that it’s actually the worst time and a huge challenge for me. For the past several years I’ve made a new year’s resolution just like the majority of people, but because of my depression, I never had the energy to even start. Some people will start their resolution, but give up after a while and I couldn’t even get started. Of course, I had good intentions with making a resolution (or if I’m being honest, 2 or 3), but the reality is, for me at least, that taking on something new is just too big of a challenge at least around the new year. Not only is my motivation low, but I can’t help but compare myself to others who are accomplishing goals and being successful with their resolution. This comparison just makes me feel worse (and yes, I know I shouldn’t be comparing myself to others, but you know it just happens). The dark thoughts of “I’m not good enough” come flooding back when I think about making a resolution at the start of the new year and that just drags me deeper into the darkness. I think this next year I won’t make a resolution around the new year, but will make it a goal to start a resolution sometime in the spring or summer. Hopefully my motivation will increase with the temperature and daily amounts of sunshine.

Aside from the challenge of seeing everyone with resolutions, the new year is a time that reminds me that another year has come and gone. While for some people, this would be a celebration of the fact that they made it another year, but for me it’s often a reminder that I struggled through another year. Not only that, but everybody is looking ahead to all of the new & exciting things happening in the upcoming year and all I can see are the dark times & struggles ahead (because even if I’m feeling good at the moment, I know that inevitably, the struggles will come back). This has been another great challenge of starting the new year as someone with depression. It’s almost like I don’t want another year to be here and gone because it’s just a reminder of how hard and how long I’ve struggled. Somehow, though, I have found the strength to carry on through all of these new beginnings and I know that this new year will be no different. If you’re not someone who struggles with depression or mental illness, I encourage you to be mindful of those who do when discussing your resolutions. For some, this is a great time to start something new, but for others, this is one of their greatest challenges.

My Name is Jackie.

My name is Jackie.

My name is Jackie and I’m 25 years old. I’m originally from a small, rural town in Eastern Iowa and now I live in a larger town, still in Eastern Iowa. I graduated with my Master’s degree in Biology just this past May. After I graduated, I moved home with my parents for a little while (and had a temporary job), and in October, started a full-time job as a research assistant in a pediatric infectious disease lab. I love the colors purple and teal and am slightly obsessed with TLC & the Food Network. In my (newly found) free time I like to read, spend time outdoors, do arts & crafts, and hang out with my friends & family. I’m a faithful Catholic and attend Mass each Sunday. My God & my faith give me life.

My name is Jackie.

My name is Jackie and I experience mental illness; not just one, but two. I experience both depression and anxiety and I’ve been experiencing them both for years. I recently read a blog post about someone using the word experience instead of suffering. Her reasoning is that although there is A LOT of suffering that goes with mental illness, there are lots of experiences as well. As someone with a mental illness, I experience life just as you do. Ok, sure, I may experience things differently (and I may need medication to make sure that the chemicals in my brain are balanced enough for me to feel things), but I’m still experiencing them. I too, have my highs and my lows; my good days and my bad days. I experience friendships & heartbreaks; happiness & sadness. What I want you to know is that I am a person who experiences mental illness; I AM NOT my mental illness.

My name is Jackie.

My name is Jackie and it’s taken me years (and tons of reminders from some amazing people) that I AM NOT my mental illness. Depression is not who I am. Anxiety is not who I am. Your mental illness is not WHO you are; it is a part of you. Of course, mental illness has helped to shape the person I am today, but I like to think (and sincerely hope) that it’s changed me for the better. It’s taught me to rejoice in and celebrate the little things. Some days that’s getting out of bed before hitting the snooze button for the 3^rd time; sometimes it’s getting out of bed at all. I have learned that there are no victories too small to celebrate when it comes to mental illness. Mental illness has taught me that the big victories are even more sweet for someone like me than for someone who does not experience mental illness. I recently started a full-time job; something I questioned if I’d be able to do during some low points in my graduate school career. That is a big victory and it has propelled me forward in continuing to seek help/treatment for my mental illnesses.

My name is Jackie.

My name is Jackie and I want each and every one of you reading this to remember that. I am a human. I am a person. I am NOT my mental illness. Please see that I am a dedicated, hard-working, and caring young woman. See that I am quiet, but can be obnoxious once you get to know me. Please recognize that I am fun-loving even if it takes a bit more prompting and encouragement to get me going. Please see me as Jackie because that is who I am.  

Adulting.

As most of you know by now, I started a new job on the 22^nd of October. Prior to this job, I was working as a substitute paraeducator at the elementary school in my hometown. I really liked that (especially the teacher I was working with and her class of 3^rd graders), but it was definitely not something I could do full time. I’m now working (full-time) as a research assistant in a pediatric infectious disease lab at the University of Iowa. I know most of you are now asking “what exactly does that mean?” Well, I’ll do my best to explain. My lab is brand new meaning the PI (principal investigator, aka my boss) just moved here this past summer(?) and there are no students (undergrad or grad) in the lab (yet). This means that everything in the lab is done by one of us. So far, I’ve done a lot of ordering & organizing supplies (we have a label maker!!! J) along with a little bit of science. I presume as the lab grows, I will continue to do the above with a few additional responsibilities (i.e. simple training of students, keeping in compliance in several regulated areas, etc.).

Now that you have an idea of what I’m doing, I’m sure at least some of you are wondering how I’m doing… not in the superficial “how do you like the job” kind of way, but in the “how are you really doing” kind of way. For those of you that aren’t that close to me (or are unaware or have forgotten or whatever), let me translate. People are wondering how I’m managing both a job and my mental health. In the past, transitions have been really difficult for me, but here I’ll let you know how I’m handling a couple of different transitions at once.

I moved to my new place on the Thursday and Friday prior to the 22^nd. I’m living in a nice apartment (technically a condo) near the U of I Research Park. At this point I have everything moved in and (somewhat) put away. It’s definitely beginning to feel like home. Any transition to a new living place is going to be at least a little difficult, but this one didn’t seem as bad as previous ones. I think living a bit closer to home than Omaha helped a lot. I knew that I could go home more often (and much quicker). I also know a few people here which means that I didn’t have to start completely, completely over with finding friends. I’m working on joining a parish nearby which happens to be starting a young adult group in December, but so far, they have been nothing but welcoming. It’s great to see such a vibrant and growing parish community in the midst of what is happening with the Catholic Church. My faith communities have been so instrumental in the past in helping to make a place feel like home and this one is no different. I’m still getting used to living on my own again after having at least one roommate for so long (except for my first year in Omaha), but it hasn’t been too big of a problem. In other words, as far as the transition to living in a new place goes, I’m doing pretty well.

As I write this, I’m in the middle of week 4(!?!) at this job, but I still feel like I’m brand new at it. (When does a job cease to be a “new” job or when does a person cease to be “new” at a job? – This is a sincere question; leave me your ideas either on fb or in the comments section of the blog.) I’m at that weird stage where I have some independence and autonomy, but still feel like I need to ask for permission and guidance to do things which can be super difficult for me because of my anxiety. I know this will improve over time, but it’s one of the challenges I’m facing right now. Other than the anxiety creeping in at such inopportune times, there are 2 other aspects of my mental health that have been challenging in the transition to a new job. The first (and easier of the 2 to deal with) is how hard mornings can be. I don’t have the best sleep habits and getting out of bed is incredibly difficult for me (see my last post for more). Not only am I tired in the mornings, but my depression and anxiety kick in right away with the negative thoughts. Somehow (and I’m honestly not quite sure how), I’ve managed to get out of bed, shower, (sometimes) eat breakfast, and get to the bus stop on time. And remember, I’m now getting up at least an hour earlier than I’m used to which was hard at first, but is getting easier as time goes on. If I figure out how and why I’ve been able to get out of bed easier than most days in grad school, I’ll let you know. The second aspect of my mental health that has been challenging has been my evenings. My negative thoughts have always been worse in the evenings/at night, but they seem to have ramped up during this transition. Part of this is caused by not having a roommate/community in the same building; it's just something I’ll have to get used to. This is also partially caused by having new-found freedom (aka not having any homework to do) and not being sure of what to do. It’s like having SO many options that the options become too overwhelming and I just kind of shut down. I’ve been doing a lot of surfing the internet and watching TV. I’m trying to find a new hobby to explore as well as read more books (for fun!). That being said, my mental health has prevented me from doing some of these things that I’d like to do. Basically, my evenings have been filled with eating supper and falling asleep on the couch, only to wake up and have it be bedtime (it’s a horrible habit/routine to get into; I don’t recommend it). This has been quite a struggle, but I’m working on it. If anybody has any hints, tips or ideas, feel free to share! Overall though, I’d say that I’m managing everything fairly well despite my struggles. It sounds bad, but these are things I’ve struggled with for a long time and they seem normal to me. It’s like I don’t know what life is like without these or some other kind of struggle going on each and every day.

I’m going to end with a bit of encouragement to those fighting mental illness(es) and hopefully it’ll be inspiration to everyone else. Know that you CAN do “normal” things while dealing with your illness(es) such as work, attend church, etc. I’m not saying that it’s easy (it’s not), but it’s possible. I know I wouldn’t be able to do this on my own, but I only can because I have a good and faithful God as well as amazing friends and family to help me through. Don’t give up on yourself or your dreams. There have been so many times (especially in grad school) that I questioned a) whether it would be worth it and b) if I’d ever be able to handle a full-time “adult” job, but here I am, doing just that. Even if you can’t believe in yourself, know that someone, somewhere does and that you (and your job) are important cogs in the machinery that makes the world go ‘round.

“Start by doing what’s necessary, then do what’s possible; and suddenly you are doing the impossible.” — Saint Francis of Assisi

Time to get personal

Time to get personal…really personal. I’ve never written anything like this, although I feel as though I’ve given glimpses into my mind through some of my other blog posts.

Before I delve in too far, I want everyone to know that as I’m writing this, I’m in a pretty good place emotionally and mentally which is why I’m able to write about it. I don’t feel this way EVERY day (nor does all of this necessarily happen on the same day), but I’m going to share what a really bad day is like for me. I don’t do this to compare to anyone else or to gain sympathy, but rather to help others understand what those of us with mental illness(es) go through.

To make a long story short (this may be another day’s blog post), I’m pretty sure I started developing depression in middle school and the anxiety has been around at least that long. I fought through it alone (read as: not having any professional help) until my sophomore year of undergrad. Side note: I thank the Lord quite often for my high school friends, teammates, teachers & coaches who helped me through those dark & tough times without actually knowing what was going on. Needless to say, I finally (although reluctantly, accepted professional help). The following is what a bad day might look like.

6:45ish AM – My first alarm goes off and the first thought that goes through my head is something along the lines of “aw man, already?” (I often have trouble sleeping) or “oh crap! I need to get up so I can get to X on time” or “ok, I’ll just hit the snooze button one more time and then I’ll get up.” I hit the snooze button. I continue to hit the snooze button on any alarm that goes off. This can happen until the absolute last minute before I need to get up which ends up leaving me just enough time to throw on clothes, put in my contacts, and brush my teeth before I rush out the door. “Good” mornings are rare for me (and you’ll often hear me simply say “morning” rather than “good morning”). Obviously rushing around to do the simplest of tasks is not a great way to start one’s day, but it can become the norm for me. On really bad mornings I’ll be late to whatever meeting, appointment, class, etc. I have. On really, really bad mornings/days I may not get out of bed at all.

Morning – Sometimes getting out of bed is the hardest part of my day; sometimes it’s not. The morning can vary depending on what I’m doing. I’m usually ok for at least part of the morning as I occupy my mind with busy work (i.e. email, catching up in my lab book, drinking a cup of coffee, etc.). As long as I have something to keep my mind occupied, I can usually deal with whatever my mind throws my way. It’s when that busy work starts to get finished that the negative thoughts start to creep in. Sometimes these negative thoughts are enough to distract me from whatever I’m supposed to be doing.

Midday/Lunch – The middle of the day/lunch time can be an issue for me. I will often “forget” to eat as I’m not usually that hungry and if I do eat, it’s not usually very much. There are a lot of negative thoughts that go through my head regarding food and sometimes I’m just not strong enough to fight them. On my really bad days, I’ll just have a second cup of coffee as that will fill me up enough to cover an possible signs of hunger that might creep up. I know intellectually that this is not healthy for me, but my mental illnesses (whose voice is often louder and stronger than my own good, knowledgeable one) tell me otherwise.

Afternoon – Afternoons are a lot like mornings; as long as I have something to do, I’m ok. At some point during the afternoon, I will most likely get hungry, yet I have become very good at ignoring my hunger cues. On those really, really bad days I mentioned earlier, I may finally get out of bed simply to get a glass of water or something to eat, only to most likely relocate to the couch. The coffee I had earlier may start to wear off and I may start to get kind of grumpy, especially as the sun (if it’s out) starts to go down. I do, however, find a bit of relief (I suppose you can call it that) when I get the chance to go home from school or work. If I’m not meeting this point in the day with relief, I’m meeting it with dread because I know that evenings are hard for me.

Evening – Many days when I get home from school or work, I’ll sit down for a while and browse the internet and/or watch some tv. It’s the small things like this that I absolutely need to have built into my day or I’ll completely lose it. However, these small things can also make getting anything useful (i.e. homework, dishes, laundry, etc.) done as once I’ve started, it’s hard to stop. I will usually eat something for supper, but usually it’s pretty easy stuff that can be heated up in the microwave or requires minimal steps (i.e. pasta) because I simply don’t have the energy to cook elaborate meals. After I eat something, I’ll try to do something useful as mentioned above. If I don’t have anything I need to get done, I’ll find myself lying down on the couch and often falling asleep (this can happen as early as 7:30 PM). Sometimes I’ll wake up a half hour later and be able to do something useful, other times I won’t wake up until 11 (and then I drag myself to bed). On the really bad days, my thoughts get really, really dark and I find myself ruminating on them. These are often the points at which I will reach out to a friend and (often) ask for prayers. Sometimes if things are really bad, I’ll go to bed early (but won’t fall asleep because of the thoughts running through my head). Eventually, though, I will drift off into something that resembles sleep only to be jolted awake by my alarm the next day.

I want to thank you if you’ve made it this far in this post. There are just a few more words I’d like to share before I wrap this up. I want you to know that despite what I’ve written, each and every day is an uphill battle – I rarely have good days; I simply have ok days. Each and every day is difficult to get through and I wish there was a magic potion to make it all easier. In everything I do, I am affected by my emotions and my mental illnesses; they’re always lurking in my head and I’m always afraid that they’re going to ruin something or that they’re going to come out at the most inopportune time. However, despite all of this uphill battling, I know that someday I’ll be able to look out over the mountain and enjoy the view.

Dear Younger Me

Dear younger me,
It's not your fault. You had no idea what was happening and could not have stopped or changed it no matter how hard you tried. It's not your fault that the chemicals in your brain were (are) imbalanced. You poured your heart and soul into your extra-curricular activities hoping to keep your mind occupied; the less time you had to think, the better. You pretended to sleep on the bus rides to/from sports & speech competitions simply to keep yourself from crying; sometimes the tears would come anyway. Sometimes the tears would come during class; you were super embarrassed about this even though you couldn't help it. Yes, there were opportunities to talk to someone who probably could have helped. Yes, that probably would have changed the trajectory of your life. Yes, there are regrets now. You were scared and naive. You didn't know what was happening. Looking back, you know what it was, but you didn't know then. You thought you were exhibiting signs that someone else would have picked up on. Other people either didn't see it or chose not to say anything. This could have been for a variety of reasons. You even feebly attempted to reach out for help but were told that "everybody feels down in the winter." You took on this person's attitude assuming things would improve; they didn't. You thought no one else was experiencing what you were; you seemingly had no one to turn to.


Dear younger me,
I want you to know that you did the best you could given your circumstances.
Dear younger me,
I want you to know that you accomplished more than most students do in high school, all while battling internal demons that almost broke you.
Dear younger me,
There were people in your life that cared about you. They may not have known how to help, but they did care and valued your friendship.
Dear younger me,
Yes, current me has many regrets about you & the choices you made, but I recognize that there's nothing I can do about it now. Dwelling on those past regrets can (and will) only pull you deeper into the darkness.
Dear younger me,
Although I sometimes wish the ride would have been smoother, it made me the person I am today.
Dear younger me,
Thank you for putting one foot in front of the other and fighting to get through each and every day.
Dear younger me,
If only I had known then what I know now...


This post was inspired by the song "Dear Younger Me" by MercyMe (click the link to hear the song/see the lyrics). https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-l70C3ePyIQ

Sharing grace & a practice homily

Hi friends! I'm sorry it's been so long since I've posted, but life has gotten quite busy with Christmastime, an adventure to Chicago, and now trying to finish up my thesis research. Let's talk a little bit more about that adventure to Chicago. The first few days of the year were spent there attending FOCUS's SLS (student leadership summit) conference. I had a very powerful experience during prayer teams (more on that in another post). On the bus ride back to Omaha, we shared graces from the week at the conference and mine was remembered by a friend as he worked on a school assignment. The unique thing about this friend & this assignment though is that he is a seminarian (one studying to be a priest) and his assignment was to write & give a practice homily. God-willing he will be ordained a deacon later this year. When he asked if he could use a bit of my testimony in his homily, I quickly agreed as my hope in sharing the grace was that it would inspire others. So, needless to say, for this post, we have Bill's practice homily which goes along with the readings for this coming Sunday, Feb 4th (the 4th Sunday in Ordinary Time). Here's a link to the readings if you would like to read them before continuing to read his homily below (http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/020418.cfm).



How do you endure a sleepless night? I know that I really hate those times, knowing that I have a busy day coming up and need rest, but due to anxiety, illness, pain, excitement, or whatever else, I just can’t get to sleep. Even more, it’s during these sleepless nights that our suffering becomes amplified. In the dark and delirium, everything becomes a little scarier, showing why horror movies often contain this theme of darkness and restlessness. You can probably identify a recent time when you couldn’t get to sleep and became filled with fear, confusion, or suffering. Maybe it was a couple of months ago. Maybe it was last night. This is what Job is experiencing in the first reading today. He says, “So I have been assigned months of misery, and troubled nights have been allotted to me. If in bed I say, ‘When shall I arise?’ then the night drags on; I am filled with restlessness until the dawn.” Imagine how dark and scary these painful nights are for Job in the midst of his sufferings; can we at least relate to him a little bit? Often times, the question that first comes to us when we suffer is, “Why? Why am I lying awake on this miserable night? Why are things falling apart around me? Why am I suffering from this event or because of this person?” And as we know, there’s really no way we can answer this question in the moment. We don’t know why – we don’t have the full picture. And in fact, with the seeming randomness of the world, as we see in natural disasters and sudden accidents, there is sometimes no answer to be found. Instead of why, I’d like to propose a new question for us to ask. “To whom will we go in our suffering?” When we suffer, because we all do to some extent, to whom do we go? Do we turn in upon ourselves, putting up walls and not letting anyone else in? Or do we turn to others to help us, entrusting our problems to them and being vulnerable? Most importantly, do we turn to Jesus and cry out to Him for His healing and grace? Look at today’s Gospel, and we see several instances of how this happens. Simon Peter’s mother-in-law is sick in bed with a fever. This may seem like something small, but remember that there were no prescription medications or pain relievers back in Jesus’ time. A fever could easily turn into something deadly. It is into this situation that Jesus comes. By grasping her hand and lifting her up, he heals her. Then consider all of those who came to Jesus. It is nighttime, and in this darkness, probably illuminated by a just few candles and the moonlight, the whole town comes to Jesus. One by one, Jesus heals them and drives out their demons. Some of these who came to him likely struggled out of their beds, desperate for something to happen, and indeed, Jesus does provide them with healing and a new life. From all that I’ve seen as a disciple and now as a soon-to-be-deacon, I say confidently along with all the saints: when we pray to Jesus with sincere hearts, it may not be what we expect, but something always happens. Jesus always hears us, and he provides us with what we most need. We can reflect on the painful times in our lives and see: there are the graces that I needed to make it though, there are the people who walked with me as Christ would. And when we ask him to open our eyes to His graces, we begin to see them all around us, and we can hear plenty of testimonies to how Jesus is healing and loving us today. I was reminded of this recently through a student I know at the University of Nebraska-Omaha. The first week of January, I accompanied the Newman Center on their trip to Chicago for the Student Leadership Summit, put on by FOCUS, the Fellowship of Catholic University Students. After five days of prayer, talks, and a lot of fun with the 8,000 others who attended the conference, we did a sharing of graces and testimonies on the bus ride home, and this student shared her story. As I prepared for this homily, her story came to mind, and I asked her to write about her experience, which she did so gladly. I knew her a little bit before the conference, and I was aware that she had been going through several difficulties. She said that, “Before the conference, I had a really hard time accepting God’s love for me (mostly stemming from mental illness & other personal struggles). I knew I was loved and that I was a beloved daughter of the King, but it was never ‘real’ for me.” Then she shares her experience from the conference, saying: “I literally saw the face of Jesus. During prayer teams, which were available on the third night of the conference, one of the people praying with me asked me to look into the eyes of the other person there while he continued to pray. During that time of prayer, I saw such kindness, compassion, and care in the eyes of that missionary that I didn't see her anymore. It was as if I was looking directly into the eyes of Jesus. I felt, for the first time in my life, completely and utterly loved by the Father. It allowed me to recognize, in a profound way, His love for me and my identity as a beloved daughter of God.” In the midst of her suffering, Jesus came to her in a real way, and it’s certainly affected her life. It’s not that the difficulties and darkness magically disappeared, but she received a new strength and courage to enter this semester, knowing that Christ was always with her. Particularly, she wrote that, “Even Mass, which can become so routine to so many of us, has taken on a new meaning in a way that allows my soul to receive a hug from Jesus every time I receive Him in the Eucharist.” Her story reminds us: if God truly has an infinite and personal love for us, He desires to show us glimpses of this love in the midst of our suffering. He has something unique to share with all of us, and our response is to seek out and ask for this love and healing because Christ desires us to come to Him as we are. In him, we see that he is also the ultimate answer to, “Why?”, that he has made us for himself and desires our response of love. He himself gives us the example to follow: in the Gospel today, he gets up out of his own bed early in the dark morning to seek the Father’s face in prayer, giving him strength. So we too can turn to the Lord in prayer anytime we are suffering, asking him for healing, strength, and peace. To whom shall we go in our suffering, in our sleepless nights, in our restlessness? We can all bring that to prayer in this week; just to simply imagine Jesus looking upon us in love, just as he looked upon Job in his suffering, just as he saw Simon’s mother-in-law as she lay in her bed, just as he looked upon all those coming for healing, just as he looked upon my friend in her suffering and doubts. And with this look of love, we can then rest in His peace, until the dawn of heaven comes.

To the friends that don't give up on me when I want to give up on myself:

I’m 24. Some of you have known me since I was 5, others I met when I was 12, some I have known since I was 18, and yet others I have just met this year. To be honest, the length of time I’ve known each of you doesn’t really matter. What does matter though, is that you’re still here. You’re still walking this rough and dark path with me. Some of you have walked the road from the beginning, yet others have walked just a portion of the road with me. You have done everything from send me silly videos or encouraging words to sit with me in a dark chapel as I sob; some of you have even cried right along with me. What you’ve done really isn’t important; what is important is that you’ve been there and continue to be there in whatever way you can.

Those days (or usually nights) when I feel like I can no longer go on and reach out to one or more of you, you somehow help me to find (or sometimes you just give me) the strength to go one more day. Sometimes you have to give me strength multiple days in a row, but eventually, I begin to see a glimpse of light again. It doesn’t always happen overnight, but it wouldn’t happen at all without you.

It’s not easy walking this road, and I’m sure it’s not easy being my companion on this road. It is, however, a little bit easier to walk with you standing beside me carrying a lantern. It would be a much longer, darker, and scarier path without you.   

I really wish I had the right words to express my gratitude for each and every one of you. I can say “thank you” over and over again, but it never seems like enough. It seems so trivial to use the same phrase one uses when another person holds the door open for you to express that which has been life-saving in many instances. I just want you each to know how much you (and your actions/words) mean to me.

Thank you. Thank you for not giving up on me when all I want to do is give up on myself.

Love, a friend walking in darkness