Head Colds

The only thing worse than dealing with grief and depression is dealing with grief and depression with a ferocious head cold.

I woke Saturday morning with a raging sore throat, blocked ears and stuffed sinuses. It is difficult because when you are sick sleep and rest are the best things to get you back on your feet. Unfortunately, sleep and rest bring with them their own set of problems.

The extra downtime to sit and ponder for the depressed is like poison. I tried to walk late on Saturday but I felt too crappy. I tried to read abit, but no luck there as I couldn't concentrate. There are only so many movies you can watch before the enjoyable ritual becomes a burden of distraction.

Being sick just compounds my minds ability to get the best of me. I keep replaying loops of what I did wrong to end a beautiful five year relationship. The solitude and sickness seem to be like fertilizer for the self loathing thoughts. They multiply and take on truly sinister proportions.

Luckily work for Monday kept me occupied and my mind off my ex partner and my rotten head cold. Still, I don't feel well enough to walk tonight so it will be another evening of fighting off depressed and weary thoughts. This whole grief and depression deal is gotten really old and tiresome. I long for some good old fashioned boredom without a depressed or saddened thought in sight.

The Pain of Grief

Breaking up is terribly difficult, especially when you still deeply are in love with the person. The separation and pain can be intense.

The tangible feelings of pain from the grief over a loss are enormous and physical in nature. Each day the waves and pangs of grief bring physical sensations of true pain.

Pain radiates from my chest and into my left arm. Some days the pain is firmly lodged in my throat, cutting back my voice and speech. Other days a numbing sensation and prickling pain coarse up my neck and into my head.

The lucky days are when my chest just aches as if my heart is about to stop. Those days, of the aching pain centered in my chest, are the easiest to wade through. The worst days are when the pain invades my throat. The pain is crippling and speech is an absolute struggle. My phone rings and paralysis sets in preventing me from picking up and simply speaking.

Time is said to be a great healer, I'm a skeptic today. There is a part of me that feels the love for my lost partner is so great that the pain will never subside. I feel as if the intensity will remain, relentlessly tugging me down as I suffer through this loss.

Waves

As I struggle to come to grips with my illness the grief has been battering me with waves throughout my day and week. The grief is so present that I haven't had the mental energy to blog, so, my entries have been few and far between.

The main source of my despair revolves around my parting ways with a partner of over five years time. Those of you unlucky enough to suffer from depression know how the isolating nature of the illness can snuff the life out of even the most dynamic of relationships.

I'm grieving my loss of self and the broken relationships that has left behind. Morning, noon and night are full of torrential waves of sadness and despair. The pain is so tangible that it sucks the very air from my chest. The physical sensations of a tightening chest and pain riddled throat are vivid. As the waves descend it begins in my throat, a painful tightening as if words can't escape overcomes me.

The waves come with no reason or warning. This makes for very uncomfortable days as I try and deal with business and friends. There is never any telling as to when the waves come, they just appear with a ferocious presence. A memory, place, song or conversation may trigger the waves to come, but there is never any sureness. I can pass the same location numerous times with no perceived pain, but then one time it will trigger the waves and they engulf me with their fury.

They say that the more the grief comes over time the pain should begin to subside. I believe right now the grief is on the increase for me. I feel as if a very deep well has been opened and I'm descending into it. My counselor tells me this is the hardest part of recovery, to deal with the grief, and path back to wellness. Time will heal.

Shopping

I used to love to grocery shop before being overcome by depression. Now it is pure hell. Each trip to the store is a solid reminder of how alone I am.

My illness fractured virtually every relationship I had. I used to shop for a family with family minded meals in mind. I used to relish picking out food that would please us all and provide us with healthy nourishment.

Now my trips to the store are painful and hollow. It is very hard to cook for one and I find I'm not eating well. I try and pick food that is nourishing and cost effective, but those two things seldom go hand in hand. More often that not Im eating prepared foods out of a can.

The alcohol aisle is painful as well. My partner and I used to enjoy nice bottles of wine and cocktails. Now the aisle reminds me of loss and separation. I avoid that aisle as the memories it evokes are just too painful right now.

It is funny how such a simple act can be obliterated by one's losses and feelings of grief. Such a simple and mundane act that once carried with it so much joy and excitement now brings forth memories of pain and anguish. They say time is a healer, well time can't work fast enough for me right now.

Not Enough Buckets

One of the things about living with bipolar and depression that is the toughest is finding enough buckets to dump my worries in. Worries over money, friends, work, relationships, if there will ever be another relationship, family and the list goes on and on.

Just when one worry has been safely put to bed another awakens to spoil my mood. I can never seem to rid myself of worry these days. I certainly feel like I don't have enough buckets to carry the load safely.

I lean on a few close friends, but I don't want to burn them out. My family helps with a number of them and they are very helpful, but I don't want to overtax them either. My therapist is earning his dollars these days as well, his bucket is great because I can fill it and truly leave it behind. His bucket is unlike friends and families buckets which are always lingering around and your worries are never truly gone once they are filled.

I carry alot of my worries around with me all day. I try and dump them off in places, or sort them out and solve them, or simply put them to rest for later. I never seem to have enough buckets though. I long for a day soon that isn't hampered by excessive worry. The one saving grace currently is that my sleep has been untouched by worry. For whatever reason I seem to be able to shelve the worry before sleep. I believe it is my meditation practice that helps with this. I enter the time of sleep relaxed and focused on positive images.

A New Found Hope

Another long weekend is drawing to a close and I have a glimmer of hope that life can improve. It is just a small glimmer, one that needs to be protected from anything that might snuff it out, but it is there deep down welling up inside.

I have so many changes in my life mixed with so many losses that at times I don't know where to begin. One step at a time is often said to me by family and friends, but where do I step first?

I have some imminent issues facing me that will preoccupy much of my time in the next month. Once that issue is resolved I feel like a major hurdle will be cleared and some healing can begin.

I have new found aspirations of returning to school for my masters degree. I came from the social service field and would like to return to that direction with my life. I would like to pursue a Master of Social Work degree with an emphasis on counseling. Sales have helped pay the bills for some time now, but I am left feeling rather unfulfilled. We spend so much time at work that our vocation needs to refuel us to some degree.

At the end of my work day and week I am currently feel used up and spent. I long to feel a sense of satisfaction from the work I do. I'm tired of feeling that my work life is whipping past with nothing to show for my efforts. A return to school will also help nurture my need to better myself and climb out from this sickness. My first step is to speak with my local colleges and determine a game plan. I feel a growing undercurrent of excitement and new found hope. Where there is a will there is a way.

Patience

In my struggle with depression and bipolar disorder I have written about my newfound enjoyment of golf. At first the love was a result of the camradarie of being out with friends and the way these outings lifted my mood. The practice of golf has become more than just a social outing for me.

For me the game of golf helps me practice patience, focus and judgement. To enjoy the game requires one to slow down and focus, really be present to the situation. You notice the cut of the green and how the ball will roll, focus in on hand and foot placement, attention is paid to the club face and during the game one soaks up the peacefullness and beauty of the course.

These challenges that golf brings to me relate to my daily life as well. I feel a newfound sense of presence to my situations. I'm slowing down and really exercising thought and judgement. I notice that I am seeing more and walking through life less shut down. The measured slowness of golf is rubbing off beyond the links.

Last nights game we were me with a dramatic and beautiful sunset as well as some of the most beautiful cloud formations I have seen for some time. We shared some great time together, laughs as well as some serious discussions about our lives directions. These are all gifts that the crazy little game of golf bring to me each Thursday. I look forward to many more!