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| http://www.unitedstrokealliance.org/ |
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Monica is a frequent and valuable volunteer for our stroke camps and for other brain injury organizations she is involved with. Her words are worth considering as I believe stroke survivors and even their caregivers can, and in many cases do, experience depression when their loved one suffers a stroke. Monica is also an excellent, and should be considered professional, photographer. (She makes my photos look like they came off the walls of prehistoric caves)
She posted this on Thanksgiving day and I was able to get her permission to repost it here on our RRSC blog. I believe this to be good reading even now because even though major holiday seasons like Thanksgiving, Christmas and the coming New Year celebrations should be happy times they are also prime depression times for many of us for many reasons.
If you wish to see more of Monica's thoughts and experiences I urge you to visit her blog site:
"Turning Empathy Into Action"
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The two hours that saved me from myself
By Monica Vest Wheeler
May you be blessed with discovering new ways of giving thanks on this day …
I am beyond blessed with the family and friends who never fail to lend a hand, a shoulder, a word, an ear … They put me in a place of calm, such as this moment of soaking in the power and peace of Lake Michigan last month on my way home from camp …
I now take better care of my physical self … walking at least four to five times a week, eating less and better … developing more stamina after losing more than 20 pounds … a great reversal after ending up in the ER near physical collapse two weeks after Mom passed away in July.
Yes, yes, yes, go, go, go …
Self-talk, self-talk, self-talk …
Yes, I believed that I was (re)building a new me …
Several days ago, I finally stopped to ask, “Who am I?" If I only knew. I had been writing the story for 60 years and finding fault with every previous chapter. There wasn’t enough red ink in the world to correct everything “I" considered an error. Intellectually I knew I was wrong but I couldn't course-correct emotionally … Don't worry. No cliff jumping because I'm afraid of heights …
:-)My poor husband and son, the challenges they've faced with someone who has battled depression for soooooo many years … Talk about loving, patient souls … Yes, I wanted/needed help but was unsure what it even was. I had already increased my meds while caring for Mom or I knew I wouldn’t make it. However, I’m smart enough to know that meds alone wouldn’t “rescue” me.
I composed an email asking a professional counselor I knew for help. Then I steadied my shaking finger over the send button … and hit it. This person got me in for what turned out to be a two-hour Monica-athon. Poor person … I owe them a box of tissues to replace the one I consumed …
:-)Finally, finally, finally … I untangled the roots of decades of self-imposed inadequacies, doubts and fears, and it made sense. In the last 17 years, I had had therapy several times because of my depression and made great progress. But this time, because of where I am in my lifeline and losing my parents in the last two years, I guess I tapped into a deeper vein of existence and purpose … oh yes …
And it was enough to cut my tissue consumption at home by 90 percent and to turn my husband’s tears of worry a few days ago to laughing, “Geez, you’re sure happy!” just yesterday …
Blessed be those who help and listen and love and hurt for us … family and friends who are kind and patient and compassionate … people who acknowledge they need help and ask for and accept it …
I need you … and you need me … what a glorious, glorious place to be …
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