Snuggles, muddy swamps and a strawberry farm…

July 27, 2009 at 3:57 am | In Depression | PND | Grief, Journal, Motherhood | Leave a Comment
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A journey through PND



Preparing for the journey ahead

Stepping up to the train platform one more time, the foggy mist of bewilderment rises eerily in the morning light. Life’s trials slowly stretch before me and build clarity in the first rays of the morning sun. I face the prospect of another day riding the emotional train that departs my soul, ritually, each morning. As I adjust to the new dawn I am again reminded of the pain that brought me here.

Every day without fail I stumble aboard the Emotional Express. I stack my luggage beside me, there seems to be no porter today: No one to share the burden’s of yesterday with me. I am no longer surprised that I can’t find him. Swinging a large swag of regrets on my back and lumbering up the steps, I laden each arm with an extra large suitcase of baggage. One suitcase holds a collection of memorabilia; mental snapshots and a cacophony of disjointed fantasies and misconceptions about life and my very own brand of how to deal with any pain that life has jostled my way from my growing years through to the present day. And in the other suitcase…well who know what’s in there but I’d hate to forget something and have to turn back. You never know what might come in handy. I tuck one more little overnight bag of the things that I hold dear, my personal items. I guess the fragments in there represent what’s left of my identity. I hear one or two items rattle around in an otherwise empty bag. I’m sure there should be more…too late now.

I drudgingly take my seat midway along an empty carriage and awkwardly spill myself…and all of my luggage into an exhausted heap close to the window. I stare out the window and notice that the landscape of my life seems to just be a haze in the early morning glow. It passes by at a throttling pace. I write as I ponder; I log the details of the coming events in my journal…

Today I face a journey through the muddy swamps of depression, and it looks like the afternoon will have a torrential breakthrough of tears that will somehow, inadvertently result in a fresh scourging of my soul to reveal, yet another, out of perspective belief about life or myself…

It’s an unpredictable journey through the gauntlet of human emotions I experience, in varying degrees, through Post Natal Depression, divorce and motherhood with a toddler and a newborn. Each change of season illustrates an emotional milestone; a place of victory or defeat. A blustery wind might mark a seasonal change that drives me into a storm of anxiety that is followed by a surreal peace and calm once it passes;

I casually glance over an earlier entry…

A cave of darkness and anger is marked with bubbles of release and freedom; a landmark of victory and yet the track that stretches out through the unknown darkness fills me with a sense of foreboding. Maybe this one will take a few poundings of certain defeat before the hint of victory comes.

From time to time, I gain further insights and more healing as I revisit the journeys of months gone by in my journal. It’s like meandering along a rundown section of track. I venture in with feelings of remorse and sadness at what has been left behind: thoughts of what once was and I am reminded of dreams that can no longer be. This section has been travelled many times and emotional deterioration has revealed areas that need restoration. Like an historic railway line being restored with Gracious and Careful Hands my journal carefully traces the journey and preserves my personality yet, mercilessly highlights the rust and rot; my character flaws and unhelpful attitudes to life, that will only return later on to cause rapid decay somewhere further down the track if not removed properly. Each section of the track is restored by removing layers of weeds and vegetation that have been left to run wild and now, like my thinking patterns, have become overgrown with out-of-perspective beliefs. Just as the weeds that have been fed well have grown strong, so too the thought patterns I have nurtured are the ones that have thrived. With this I reflect on what weeds need to be pulled and as I begin, I must accept that things will never be the same.

The broken rails are no longer capable of heading the engine of my soul in the right direction without it running completely off the track. They need to be pulled up and the unstable foundations built on denial are destroyed. Solid foundations of truth are laid in their place and new rails. These rails are tried and tested. Crafted with centuries of expertise and precision. They are both strong and durable… It comes through wise counsel and guidance. The new rails are securely fixed in place.

Once the way is clear, work on the tangled leads and calcified or rusted engine parts can begin. Years of neglect have seized up so many parts of the engine of my soul. Pieces that have caused life to come to a stand still are revealed. They blow the smoke of confused spiritual understandings, hissing and wheezing the steam of personal anguish and spluttering the ash of distorted emotions indiscriminately over innocent bystanders.

Each test run reveals one part fixed and another to be restored. In and out of my emotional, mental and spiritual repair yard I go. Each time I venture out I revisit past landmarks of victory that give me hope to continue the back and forwards daily routine. It’s a lengthy process and it cannot be rushed. Old parts need to be almost surgically removed where they have been calcified into their static positions. New parts need to be adapted to by changing my own behaviour and I need to learn to function with those new parts in place. To do it all at once would lose the integrity and personality of the engine of my soul. It needs expert attention and the precious crucible of time.

Travel itinerary

Each double page illustration, from the children’s book ‘Mummy, Let’s Go!’ forms a window of revelation, sharing specific emotions in my journey through Post Natal Depression, crisis and loss.
I hang them as I would photos on from any travel adventure. Forming emotional landmarks, they define my emotions: bewilderment, denial, anger, shock, anxiety, despair, uncertainty, healing, hope, restoration, acceptance, resilience and relief.

Like any journey without a tour itinerary mapped out or worse a foreign speaking guide who keeps leading me off the track with mind wanderings and distorted instructions. I notice I cover the same ground many times over just with a little bit more insight or I approach it from a different perspective, until I become so familiar with it that I eventually can navigate my way through it. Somedays I journal. It’s often in the places where I notice a destination has been reached. Some weeks I just ride the Emotional Express hoping to find some bearings that will help me pluck up some courage to continue with determination and I peer out the window desperately searching for any of the ancient landmarks and signs that acknowledge that there is a way through.

Each morning I step onto the same train and as season follows season I see small, seemingly insignificant, changes taking place. Little by little I start to sort through the baggage and boarding the train each morning becomes slightly less cumbersome. As time wears on and certain pieces of baggage are left behind, I begin to see that I really don’t need them for the journey ahead and parting with them seems natural. It’s as though they are tokens that allow my passage to the next level in some twisted computer game.

Some changes happen very slowly, like the wheels that churn almost to a grinding halt as I pass through the muddy swamps of despair and other changes are quick; spurts of hope like desert wildflowers. Through the blur of my pathetic flurry of tears that are signaling impending despair, I come to realise that, the same tears have been the very sustenance that saturated the soil and brought these desert blooms to life. They are now punctuating my landscape of thorns and wilderness. If I am not looking closely I miss them then I wonder how many times I have passed by this way and perhaps not noticed them until now. As I blot the tears I can faintly make out their outline; spurts of colour yellow like sunflowers, burnt orange like a summer sunset over Uluru…and a vibrant scarlet like freshly spilt blood. Together they blend into a growing fire warming my soul…They remind me that there is life.
What is that emotion? It is a fragrance of the elusive and distant.
I vaguely remember now. It’s been quite a while, but is it possible? Could it be hope?

So begins my journey…

Read the complete journal…

Juicy Berries Journal – Journey through PND – Mummy, Let’s Go! © 2009 Flavia Guarino. All Rights Reserved

Life after Post Natal Depression…

February 9, 2008 at 3:33 am | In Depression | PND | Grief | Leave a Comment
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I was not diagnosed with PND after my first baby, but I know I had it. I don’t remember much of my time with my little man. I know I loved him to bits, I cried a lot, and I don’t remember sleeping a lot and I remember severe pain after the birth for about eight months afterwards from a traumatic delivery. I’m so glad that I kept a scrapbook of the times we spent together.

I was , however diagnosed after the birth of my second little man…only because I was such a mess, on my own and the PND was rather pronounced…it was blatantly obvious! Medication and some dramatic life changes have seen things come full circle.

Due to the circumstances surrounding my marriage separation six months earlier, financial constraints and the diagnosis of PND I was privileged enough to be eligible to participate in a ‘Family Care Program’ through the local community health clinic. It involved a year of home visits by my clinic nurse and regular contact with a very special Social Worker. It is a program designed for at-risk families to ensure the well-being of both Mum and the little ones. I was beyond horrified that we were at risk. I needed help.

I counted it a privilege because I really didn’t get out of the house much for the first six months. I ordered groceries on-line if possible, I ordered bulk, frozen meals which were delivered, I would also order fruit and veges at my local green-grocer so that I only had to ask someone to pick up the box for me when they were going to visit and avoided answering the phone altogether because I couldn’t even handle the ’scrutiny’ of well meaning friends. The thought of large groups of people had me reeling into the nearest shoebox. Playgroup, church: basically any social gatherings were out of the question. I didn’t want visitors.

Boot camp–sleep erratically, wake, eat, wash and bed.

I needed help desparately and I would get extremely frustrated that people would want to come for a chat and see my new baby but were unable to see that I couldn’t even manage to organize meals for us. After a stint in hospital with a sick little baby at eight weeks old I was not coping. I was fortunate enough to have an old friend who had been overseas at the time swoop in to my rescue…she came and helped with my children, meals and housework twice a week for a couple of hours at a time after work for what seemed like and eternity.

I got in contact with my local church and they delivered meals every couple of days for months…my church delivery girl is now one of my very closest friends, I sought counselling through a different local church and they came to my house once a week for over a year without charge and lo-and-behold–one of my counsellors has become a very dear friend too! I was not a member of either church and found it completely humbling that so many compassionate strangers were available.

During my journey I managed to write Mummy, Let’s Go! and illustrate it which was therapy in itself. The guide and journal that accompany it came together later last year. As the divorce is now finalised, the children’s issues are tidy and the last of the settlement issues are being resolved it seems a lifetime ago.

I am now at a point where I wonder if I imagined all my distress…then someone will want to look through my manuscripts or like this week, I have put my paintings in to be framed for the up and coming display at The Logan West Library and then my not to distant memories come flooding back…

In those moments, I can’t help but smile a smug little grin knowing that the best revenge is a life well lived and the knowledge that sharing my experiences might just help someone else on their journey to freedom.

Peaceful Journey

Flavia
For more thoughts about depression go to the Mummy, Let’s Go!

Worship is WARFARE on depression!!

December 16, 2007 at 12:49 am | In Depression | PND | Grief | 2 Comments
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Anyone who has known depression knows it has a pungent stench that repels others; it is often reminiscent of the hairy unwashed and defeated battle-weary soldiers of days gone by. In the same token anyone who has known the aromatic fragrance of overcoming depression knows the attraction of a sweet smelling life of victory; a life where each day is flooded with life’s little blessings that are a clear reminder and an affronting broadcast of victory.

It reminds me of that waft of perfume as I broach the outer perimeter of DJs and I am assaulted by the adhoc combination of perfumes sprayed frivilously throughout the cosmetics department. The fragrance differs each time I visit, yet it is unmistakable. To me, it is opulent and luxurious…now that I am dressed for the occasion and feeling good about life. However, in the not too distant past there would have been a time where, dishevelled and in my pyjamas, had I been placed in that environment those same smells would have declared defeat in my life. An offensive stench curling up my nostrils; uninvited and unwanted. They would have reinforced the hopelessness of my situation.

A couple of nights ago I had a dream, and although I won’t share all of it I was struck by a point where I was sitting with a Bible in my hands and it was open to a page that had a cross reference to a scripture. Printed on the page of my Bible in my dream was 2 Corinthians 2:15. It was The Message Bible…I laugh at it being so specific! This is the scripture:
…in Christ, God leads us from place to place in one perpetual victory parade. Through us, he brings knowledge of Christ. Everywhere we go, people breathe in the exquisite fragrance. Because of Christ, we give off a sweet scent rising to God, which is recognised by those on the way to salvation- an aroma redolent with life. But those on the way to destruction treat us more like the stench from a rotting corpse.

It speaks of the way that returning soldiers would parade throughout the city with incense burning and the fragrance that declared victory for some was the very same fragrance that declared defeat for others in the crowds…depending on where their allegiances lay. It would cause some people to run out into the light to shout and celebrate and then others it would cause to cower and retreat to darker and safer places because the same fragrance became a stench of defeat to them.

It is the same for my perfume experiences; it has declared defeat in the past, causing me to run home to safer less exposed places and now it declares victory where I give a little cheer deep inside knowing how far I have come. That little unspoken cheer is worship to my Saviour who has brought me through some very dark times to stand in the light and opulence..of Djs…no less! And obviously on a more serious note…into the light of a full and satisfying life.

The Bible verse has inturn spurred the aspiration in me to have a life that declares victory. A fragrance that comes from having a personal relationship with my God that draws people in rather than the stench of defeat that chases them away. That beautiful aroma that wafts out the shop doors and is carried on the breeze of tomorrow’s hope.

What are the characteristics of such a life? Certainly not perfectionism! I am so far away from that mark and always will humbly remain there but my heart is true to my love for a Soveriegn and Mighty God. With that comes personal integrity and compassion for others who are hurting. I also know that whenever I find myself counting life’s blessings and being truly thankful to the God who sends them, my life is lived out in worship of Him.

That worshipful life of being thankful and caring for others is warfare in itself and that has an aroma all of it’s own. It’s a victorious battlecry that shouts I will live a life gravitating outwards towards others and supporting them rather than navel gazing my own troubles and becoming so inwardly focused that I cannot face life.

After all isn’t that what makes people contagious…a certain selflessness that says I care about you just a little bit more than I care about myself?
For more thoughts about depression go to the Mummy, Let’s Go!

Where is the point of emotional balance?

October 16, 2007 at 4:16 am | In Depression | PND | Grief | Leave a Comment
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mlg16.jpgMy journey today has led my on a discovery of what it is to have emotional balance. As one author puts it emotional maturity is defined balance and is best described as ‘calm delight’. It is not described as hysterics, hype or ecstasy and neither is it described as continual crisis and worry.

   For a long time I thought I needed crisis and looked for the pain in life to keep my mind busy and, I think deep down, I believed that it would keep other people interested in my life as well. Not a conscious thought mind you… So, to do that I either needed excitement or crisis–party or pain.  Now, I realize it’s simply not true. In light of this, I now realise that what I really want is a consistent sense of calm and peace regardless of the circumstances. Obviously there will be some discipline involved.

  It comes to me as a huge surprise, that it is just as counter-productive to have the extreme emotional highs in life as it is to have extreme depressive lows. I guess the highs are always inevitably followed by the extreme lows then some moderately bland days and the cycle repeats. When I think about it the highs hardly get noticed. But if I am honest with myself I know they exist and they are as exhausting as the lows.

  I think that it surprised me because depression is perceived as undesirable and therefore the logical assumption is that extreme happiness is the opposite and somewhat more desirable and we should do everthing possible to maintain that emotionally high level of happiness. It’s not true though…the calm in the middle is where the balance is found…that’s the place where I can recharge.

I wonder if…as humans, when we realise that we are unable to create the extremes of excitement or crisis that it becomes a natural flow to find substances that mimic those feelings and possibly increase the undesirable results of confusion, despair and disillusionment. A side issue I know…I thought it worth a ponder.

  Nevertheless emotional stability, seems to be a very constant and stable sense of knowing that everything will be okay and that regardless of my day’s events or lack of events I am just where God wants me. I don’t need to keep trying to change my circumstances or over-analyzing them and nor do I have to produce anything to define my worth. No need to rush out and buy some paint to repaint the house today–what a relief!

  I just really want to keep things in perspective and when I have the chance…instead of deeming a moment in time as boring, I want to sit and enjoy an afternoon in the garden with my boys, rather than rushing myself and them, off for dinner, bath and bed to prepare for tomorrow’s challenges.

  I don’t need to be addicted to excitement and always in search of another exciting event nor do I need to be addicted to having a new challenge to overcome everytime my life plateaus. The plateau is actually a good place to be…I think I’d like to stay there longer. I guess that it’s on the plateau that the pivotal point of emotional balance is defined. Not that I don’t want to enjoy the summits or embrace the challenges of the valleys. I just want the summits and valleys to not have the power to control whether or not I have an internal sense of calm and delight. I know that the plateau is levelled flat by God so my next conclusion is that He will be the answer to levelling my emotions too!

Peaceful Journey

Flavia

A Happy Home Sanctuary

October 4, 2007 at 9:51 pm | In Depression | PND | Grief | Leave a Comment
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mlg16.jpgOne of the biggest depression triggers for me has been my environment. I still find that having a clean clutter free home provides that safe place away from the world to recharge. It is restful and relaxing. Those elements have often meant the difference between a peaceful mental outlook and a confused, disturbed and frustrated one.

Looking at mess, tripping over clutter and feeling clastrophobic in a dark and dingy environment certainly does not create the feelings of warmth and nurturing I needed to heal. I am even more aware of the ‘feel’ of spaces outside my home now. I really do lean towards wide open spaces, quiet and clean tidy places. I also avoid the really sterile places too.

My home is very ordinary and quite pokey but some of the things that have changed it’s ‘feel’ include:

  • Bright splashes of colour in artwork on the walls.
  • One or two practical wipe down pieces of children’s furniture-they’re bright and functional.
  • Mirrors to throw the light around. They lean on the top of shelves and hang on walls.
  • Pets! One dog and two cats. They are affectionate and cuddlyand relaxed. Especially those lazy cats! They are quite therapuetic for all of us. The fur does bother me a bit so our dog has a very short coat and all three pets live outside –and they have baths too.
  • Gardens. Mine are simple and drought tollerant with a few flowering plants that provide an odd posy of cut flowers that we can pick and bring inside to brighten things up. I also planted a hedge of Callistemons along the driveway about a year ago to attrack the lorikeets. The way the house is positioned means that we can see Rainbow Lorikeets morning and afternoon from each window all along one side of our house. When they are not there we can still enjoy the bright red bottle-brush flowers. An added bonus is that I never water them and they still look great!
  • I also have a couple of outdoor spots that I love with chairs to enjoy the gardens.
  • Photos of us enjoying life that are framed and hanging. We see what we look like smiling and they are a constant reminder that everyday is not a bad one! I found with this one that what I removed was just as important as what I kept. I put all photos of anyone no longer living away. If they didn’t get tossed altogether they were put into albums otherwise they were just a constant reminder of loss and death.
  • Music…my stereo is always on. Through the night too! If I wake I hear soothing and relaxing music. During the day I listen to 96.5 FM a family radio station or CDs that are positive in their content and tune. A definate fan of Casting Crowns and Good Charlotte at the moment.
  • Open windows and curtains pulled right back to allow as much light in as possible. Fresh air and sunlight…
  • Lots of lighter colours. In furniture, linen and curtains. Soft, neutral colours that are inviting to touch. Tactile accesories help too. Bowls of shells and candles are a favourite for me.
  • My boys are both learning that some very noisy and busy activities are done OUTSIDE! And that quieter voices and activities are for indoors. I still struggle with lots of noise and activity when I am feeling a little more stressed than usual and being able to tell them that their chosen activity is too noisy or messy and would be better done outside is great. On the same note…with the warmer weather we love eating outdoors. They have a table and chairs outside which I love because we can just wipe it down and the dog licks up all the dropped food off the grass. Saves cleaning food off the walls and tiles and furniture inside…maybe I should consider the dog for that job too? Then again maybe not!
  • Clean floors make a big difference. Not having things stick to my feet as I walk through the house is lovely. I do say that however, as I sit in my studio looking at the floor covered in chicken biscuit crumbs that Callum just up-ended on the floor! Little cherub.
  • Good books to read. I have them lying around so that I can just pick one up and read from where I last left off. It’s just as easy to put them down too. Of course the reading is light and positive. Plenty of self-help books too.
  • A bowl of fruit- I feel healthier eating fruit to snack on, the boys can help themselves to a healthy snack and it looks great. More colour!
  • A functional cleaning area in the house with a cleaning caddy and everything that I need on hand to clean up things as they get messy and  in the same token there are plenty of bins so that rubbish is disposed of immediately. 
  • I also love to change all my linen regularly. I love fresh clean towels and sheets…and the wonders of fabric softener!

Peaceful journey

Flavia

For more thoughts about depression go to the Mummy, Let’s Go!

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