depression Archives - Lizz Enns Petters, The Deconstructed Mama

Prioritizing mental health in the midst of this pandemic.

April 20, 2020/in Personal, Uncategorized

I find myself staring off into space, unable to open my mouth to answer a simple question. I feel frozen in melancholy, stuck in a way I haven’t felt in years. As the weeks turn to months, one thing is very clear: this pandemic has been so very hard on us mentally. Not just inconvenient, but actually dangerous to mental health. Friends of mine who have never struggled with feelings of anxiety, depression, panic are feeling these things for the first time and finding it hard to know where to turn to get help. And still those of us who have known this journey for many years may be be finding ourselves in just the pit we dug ourselves out of many years ago.

We’re faced with a real predicament: protect the physical health of ourselves and others and risk a real mental breakdown or find the safest ways possible to meet our emotional needs while trying to ignore the judgement that might come from those who might assume we are not taking this pandemic seriously. Because the truth is we absolutely are, but we are not willing to die for it.

A friend of mine shared with me in confidence that she “broke down and took her kids to her mother-in-laws”. Her husband is working long hours and she (struggling with anxiety, OCD, and panic attacks) felt she had reached her limit. She admitted that she felt guilty for doing so. She was worried about the ways in which that choice might affect the physical health of those closest to her. She was between a rock and a hard place, trying to choose physical health over mental health in a situation where both could be dire.

Another friend of mine is bipolar, a wonderful mom of two little ones. She makes an effort everyday to keep herself grounded so that doesn’t slide into the hole of depression she knows so well. Sometimes it keeps her down for months, where she’s not even able to text those closest to her. But in the midst of this pandemic, she feels like she’s struggling. Really really struggling. Her best coping skill is going to the beach, sitting by the waves, breathing deep. She feels guilty about considering going to the beach for the afternoon. “How can I risk it?” She asks me. “How can you not?” I say.

Mental health is not secondary to physical health. We can do both. And maybe sometimes we have to risk it a bit with one to save ourselves from the other. For instance, how many of us are severely afraid of needles and yet we would get the blood drawn for the sake of our physical health? And how many of us are pushing ourselves to our limit every day mentally in order to do our part in flattening the curve of this virus.

Am I suggesting we all go dance in the streets and hug all of our neighbors in the midst of a pandemic for the sake of our mental health? Absolutely not. But if you are struggling, really struggling, and you know you have reached your limit, please remember that your mental health is not something to take lightly. Call your mental health professional or someone you trust for guidance in how to best meet your emotional need while adhering to the stay at home order to the best of your ability.

And stay safe. Physically. And mentally.

When your joy has jumped ship.

December 7, 2019/in Hope

What a loaded season. For all of the joy and festiveness, there is equally as much pain and sadness. Wounds are that much deeper around the holidays. The loss of loved ones, sickness, mental health struggles, financial struggle, relationship hardship, loneliness. The holidays seem to open the wounds and pour salt directly on them. For many, the holidays are a time of memories and tradition, so when that is lost or doesn’t feel like it used to be, there is much pain.

I’ve experienced both types of holiday. The ones where joy and laughter abound, and the ones where I can’t keep my head above water. But as a general whole, I always feel stressed around the holidays. Expectations are high, and consumerism is rampant, and my heart gets bogged down with it all-trying to find balance, rest, and peace in the midst of it.

What happens when our joy has jumped ship? When we’re trying to find that bubble of wonderment in everything we do but it’s just gone missing? The messages around us are clear-do more, be more, buy more. I wonder what would happened if we moved into the lack of joy. If we didn’t find fear in it or judgment, but just acknowledged its presence. Could we find the bittersweet? That place where pain, joy, and gratitude meet? Could we honor the journey and not wish it was something different?

It’s okay if your joy has jumped ship. In fact, it’s normal. Most of us are faking our way through the holidays in one way or another (and life for that matter). Its just not human to keep it together all of the time. I would even argue that we were created to journey, not just to arrive.

Having joy in every circumstance is a tall order, one that gets a bit misunderstood I think. It’s more than a smile and a warmness in your belly. Joy can be a distant understanding of Gods ultimate goodness, or a fractured memory of a loved on peeping through the darkness. It might not look like you have any joy, but I bet it’s there-looking so much different than the Christmas decorations say it should look. It might be tattered, broken, dusty, dirty-but it’s there!

Your joy hasn’t jumped ship, it’s just in a different package than expected.

Love you guys, wishing you true peace and rest this holiday season and throughout your lives.

**special note. Let us be sensitive and overwhelmed with awareness and empathy for those around us suffering this holiday season.**

Make the LEAP.

February 26, 2019/in Hope, Identity

For 16 months I attended an all girls boarding school. It was so damn hard, but I crushed it. As I was preparing to graduate and go out into the world, back into the chaos, I completed two action plans, assignments to help me set my mind on what is to come. I stumbled across them today as I attempted to navigate the great abyss that is my computer desktop. 18 year old me, so long ago, and yet in an instant it all comes flooding back.

As I get ready to leave SRA I take away the ability to feel my emotions, but not let them overwhelm me. I have the motivation to complete my schoolwork on time and I have more confidence in my ability to do the work well. I am very well aware of my creativity and have confidence enough in my creative abilities to pursue what I love to do in college and probably even beyond that. I eat now to strengthen my body, and I run because I love how my muscles feel when I do. I am aware of my body and what it feels like when I dance or run or play a sport. I look in the mirror without cringing and usually I smile at myself. Things with my family are still pretty rough, but I have learned that I can’t change my family and also from that I have to accept them the way they are. Honesty is the best policy, even if it’s hard and even if someone else lets what I have to say hurt them. Relationships are still hard for me. Although, I have worked on being honest despite what others think and working on not using other people to validate my self worth. I like to lead, but sometimes take charge when I don’t need to. I’ve found my voice and am using it to stand up for myself and to just say what I need to say. I’ve also learned that life goes on until you die and that things just aren’t perfect, I’ll be making mistakes, learning and working my whole life.

Emotionally, I’ve found emotions that I never let myself have, like happiness and excitement. I’ve been able to see my intelligence as something enjoyable, not just a useful thing during the school year. I have found my creativity and use it to do really relaxing things, like paint on a sheet and get all messy or even just coloring in a coloring book. I’ve also taken to reading children’s books to myself which helps me connect with the little Elizabeth inside and also helps me to relax. Well, like I said above, when I dance and run I like how I can feel every inch of my body filled with energy. I love the way it feels. Corny, but it’s almost magical how I feel like i’m floating; once the adrenaline starts flowing my muscles just relax. Really though, I’ve learned that there’s no magic wand in life. Yeah, sometimes things feel magical, but life isn’t a fairy tale. I have to work for what I want. That concept is magic in itself.

I see doubt as my biggest challenge after SRA. When I doubt who I am then everything just falls apart from there. I also think that isolating will be a big challenge because it’s still a lot easier for me to not tell people how i’m feeling or what I’m thinking especially when I’m at home with my family. Keeping commitments has been really hard for me recently and I think it will continue to be a challenge. Especially the little commitments are hard, like going out to dinner, or attending a graduation party. When I don’t keep my commitments I start to feel bad about myself, but I also hurt other people and sometimes even lose their trust in me to be there when I say I will. I still tend to be pretty judgmental, especially of guys, which is one of the ways I avoid intimacy. It’s like an automatic reaction when I meet someone or I feel like we’re getting closer. When I get depressed then I spiral down from there, which goes along with the isolating kinda. As I write this I feel like there are a whole lot of challenges after I leave SRA. Some of them I probably don’t even know about yet. I’ll have to take them as they come.

When I’m faced with challenges I know that I have my friends from SRA. I can call them anytime and they’ll talk to me and help me see things from another perspective. They’re just great girls and a really great resource. I like to have a lot of inspiration around my room. My contract is on my mirror, my bulletin board is motivational and I really like quotes so I try to put things like that around so that I see them and they remind of who I am and all that I’m capable of accomplishing. Depression is more like a signal really. It tells me that there’s something that I’m not sharing, not addressing, that I’m holding back. I think mostly, it will be about using my resources; the people I trust in my life, and what I’ve learned.

I had no idea what would what was in store for me. The harsh lessons learned in college, the emotional turmoil as I began to realize that the therapeutic work I had done didn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what I needed to face. But then again, I also had no idea how I would TRIUMPH! And never in a million years would I have been able to imagine the life that I have now, the person that I have become, and the many things that I have learned over the last 10 years. Cheers to you, my brave 18 year old self.

Why We Do Hard Things.

January 25, 2019/in Faith, Fear, Hope, Uncategorized

I’ve wondered for as long as I can remember: Why do we have to endure hard things? Why can’t life be just a little bit fluffier, easier? Is it really necessary to suffer? I don’t presume to have all the answers, but through the years I have realized one thing: hard things are so necessary.

Yesterday Eric, Lilah, and I flew to Florida. No big deal right?

WRONG!

I hate to fly. I hate everything about it: the teetering above the clouds in a metal contraption, being stuck next to strangers in a small space, not being able to move around with ease, tiny cramped bathrooms. I’m a claustrophobic control freak. You do the math. Flying is not for me. And in case you don’t really believe it’s all that bad, I once got out of my seat during take off and demanded that the stewardess land the plane immediately (and no that wasn’t yesterday, I was 16 at the time).

This wasn’t necessarily a trip that I HAD to go on. It was a three day work trip for Eric, so it might seem a little odd that I would want to take my neurotic self and teething 16 month old to tag along. But something inside me knew I had to do it.

I knew it would be really really hard. I knew that I might have a million panic attacks, and maybe barely get through it. I knew it might be miserable. And deep down inside I just wasn’t so sure I could handle it. Especially with a baby. And I’ve been challenging myself to push back against those lies that I won’t make it through hard things. So here we are, in Florida. Yesterday felt like a nightmare, but we did it. We boarded that bare bones, possibly made of tin foil, aviation contraption, and we lived to tell the tale (I’m nothing if not dramatic FYI).

But why the hard stuff, right? Why the pain, the suffering, the adversity? If God was really good, wouldn’t He/She lighten things up a bit? There can’t really be a point to all this madness. Listen, I’m not going to get into the black hole question that is “why is there suffering”. But I think it’s important to note that without suffering we would be empty shells. The hard things are what teach us who we are, and who God is.

Anyone who really knows me knows that I believe in a complete correlation between knowing and loving ourselves, and knowing and loving our God. They work in tandem. And how do we really learn about ourselves and our God? By journeying through life’s ups and downs and realizing that we will make it, that God is with us.

Please hear me, I am not suggesting that this is in anyway easy. As someone who struggles with anxiety, depression, and has been an empath my entire life, I pray daily for “easy”. I still don’t want the hard. But when I take a deep breath and dig down deep, I know that it is the key to so much of what I am searching for in my restless soul.

What can you do today to embrace the hard? Can you let yourself feel sad, heartbroken, disappointed, angry, and still leave your hands open to what it is teaching? Can you take a deep breath and lean in, knowing that it might be the hardest thing, but you can do it. We will be more empathetic, more whole, more in tune with ourselves, more in tune with God and the world around us, because we have chosen to press into the hard.

Much love you on this journey my friends.

When your joy has jumped ship.

December 12, 2018/in Hope, Uncategorized