Thinking...

Slippers are like oven mitts for the feet... (and I like them!)

Loving...

Having a clean house.  It makes everything so much calmer and more manageable.

Feeling...

Tired and Sad. I had crazy dreams last night. Mainly they were about me messing things up and the people I love being dissapointed in me. Maybe I need to see what's going on in me to produce those...

Thinking...

There is really no reason to live with untreated depression. It sucks to think of all the time I've wasted.

Friend.

I'm so lucky to be married to my best friend.

I know that sounds super corny. It's the cliche thing that I'm supposed to say. But the thing is, it's true.

Michael and I have had our share of rough times. We have both thought that this whole coexistence thing is too hard and that we couldn't make it. We have each felt that our own brokenness or the brokenness of the other was just too much.

But at the end of the day... we just really like each other.

It is so good to have a friend that accepts you even when you suck.  It is so good to have a friend that challenges you to be the person you really are.  It is so good to have a friend that gets your view of life when the whole world is seeing it different.  It is so good to have a friend who thinks that your jokes are the funniest ones around.  It is so good to have a friend that takes care of you when you are sick and holds you when you cry. It is so good to have a friend.

The Lord has blessed me in many ways but giving me Michael is one of my favorites. Having him is a testament to the Lords love and care for me and I am very thankful.

So maybe I shouldn't say that I'm lucky.  I'm blessed.

I'm blessed to be married to my best friend.

*Allison

Watching...

Dexter.  It's weird how intrigued I am with serial killers.

Loving...

The Goodwill Thrift store by my job. They get old stuff from Target and I got a the Target bathing suit I've been wanting for $1.99 yesterday!

Thinking...

I can't wait for my Christmas vacation. Michael and I off at the same time for a week. It's going to be glorious.

Expansive.

When things started getting better for me with my first counselor, Gina, she suggested I enroll in a couple of college courses. I was managing life a lot better thanks to the drugs and the work we had been doing and she thought that since I had really felt defeated by school it might be good for me to experience some victory there.


So I went home and made a plan.


I came back the next week so excited to share it with her. I had decided where I was going to go to school and what degree program I wanted to purse. I had actually chosen fifteen hours of courses for the semester starting in only a few weeks and had the semesters after that mapped out. A complete two or three year plan.


She wasn't so excited.


Her response was more of a correction. That was not what I was expecting.


Looking back I can see her frustration. One thing that we had addressed so many time was my tendency towards all-or-nothing thinking. My seeming inability to break things into steps, to see the little picture.


That was in fact one of the reasons that I had struggled (and do struggle) so much with school.   I always make such big plans. Everything is always so elaborate in my mind. I can see the finished product.


What I can't see are the pieces. I don't know how to break things down into little chunks and the whole thing just ends up being to big to swallow.


I believe her words that day were along the lines of "Allison, you're getting carried away with expansive thinking again. We talked about taking a class or two."


Basically she was telling me to calm down. Take steps.


So here I am five years later in a very similar situation.... Depression. Falling victim to school. More depression. Counseling. Meds. Scriptue. Hope. ...and pow! -expansive thinking.


To be honest I have a 35 year plan this time. But that word keeps lingering in my mind. Expansive.


So for now I am going to try to focus on the little things right in front of me. I'm going to work on learning steps.


I think I will end this post with a quote that my dad would use to put all of this in perspective:


How do you eat an elephant?
One bite at a time.


Thanks, Dad.
*Allison

Thinking...

Babies make the weirest faces. It's so funny.

Meds.

The first time I took anti-depressants I felt like a complete failure. I had been in counseling for several months and though I was getting some really good stuff out of it I just couldn't seem to crawl out of that pit.

I really felt guilt most of all. Guilt that I couldn't just snap out of it. Guilt that my faith wasn't strong enough, or that I wasn't praying the right way, or that I had generally failed to do whatever it took for God to magically make me better.

But I took them. I felt hopeless and I couldn't keep going to way I was. I've never seen suicide as on option because I'm not willing to rip apart the lives of the people I love, and it became clear that an accidental death wasn't going to claim me as I had begged it to.

So I took the drugs.

My counselor said that we would try Paxil first and that if that didn't work we would try something else.

At first nothing really happened so my doctor decided to up my dose. Something definitely happened then.

For about two weeks I experienced what my counselor referred to as hypomania.

All I wanted to do was run around out side. To climb and jump and skip. Things that terrified me before were now adventures. I climbed swing sets and did flips on the trampoline.

I felt alive.

There was a dangerous side to it as well. Without fear I cut myself for the first time (something that I had imagined a million times in my depression but never had the courage to follow through with).

Fortunately I did level out after that.

I was myself again. Things seemed possible and life just wasn't so hard.

With the relief the Paxil gave me I was able to do the things I needed to really address the depression. I went to the gym. I became active. I ate well, I formed new friendships. I had adventures. I went back to school. I prayed. I read. I worshiped. I wrote. I lived.

I didn't take them very long but it was enough to change how I see emotions and how I see medication.

So this time, although I still feel guilty, I'm taking my meds with hope and I am so excited for the chance to transform myself again.

It should be a wild ride.

Listening...

Viva la Hova

Loving...

Crisp, cool fall air. For some reason it makes me feel alive.

Thinking...

It's really cool to live with your best friend. That is one cool thing about being a grown up.

Hope.

Hope is so strange and so beautiful.

I feel a little blossom of hope inside of me right now. It is like seeing a crocus start to open up after months of stark white snow. There is a thrill and excitement that goes with it. And an anxiousness. An slight fear that it might disappear under snow again tomorrow and life will once again be only a blanket of white.

I feel new life blooming on the inside of me. I feel my heart that has been weary and tired starting to stir. My future that has looked so shadowy and long is starting to glow with the pink and purple stripes of a new day.

Maybe it is just because of the drugs. But maybe it is because it am allowing myself to accept the truth of these words…

I know the plans I have for you says the Lord. Plans the prosper you and not to harm you. To give you hope and a future. -Jeremiah 29:11

I can’t say for sure what it is. But there is one thing I know. I have hope. I have a future. Something that has been sleeping in my chest is waking up. Where before I only wanted to sleep, to escape and to hide there is a desire building to run. I want to dance and play. I want to bake and draw. I want to build and sew. I want to laugh and hug. I want to write and feel. I want to live.

Several nights ago in a dream I saw myself say “I just want to be happy to be alive again.”

Well it’s happening. I can feel magic in even the most mundane tasks. The magic of being alive.

I think that means that I am going to be all right. I hope.

*Allison

Feeling...

Hope. I really think that in the end I am going to be okay.

Thinking...

It's weird how people go to such lengths to hide their broken parts from each other.