“Someone finds salvation in everyone
Another only pain
Someone tries to hide himself
Down inside himself he prays
Someone swears his true love
Until the end of time
Another runs away
Separate or united
Healthy or insane

And to be yourself is all that you can do
(all that you can do)
Yeahhh…
To be yourself is all that you can do
(all that you can do)
To be yourself is all that you can do
(all that you can do)
Heyyyy…
Be yourself is all that you can do.”

“Be yourself,” Audioslave

I chose “Be yourself” as the lyric quote for this blog because it is a favorite song of mine.  It highlights differences in others, but focuses on being yourself and “to be yourself is all that you can do.”  As in, being yourself is the best that you can do.  And when you struggle with chronic health issues, all you want to be sometimes is anyone OTHER than yourself, so it’s a good reminder.

I realize I have not shared anything about being epileptic or my allergies yet, and I will, but to end the month of May, which happens to be mental health awareness month, I want to delve into my mental health a little more, and since it just so happens I was dealing with it a lot this week, so good timing.

To set the stage, I have a lot of craziness right now in my personal and professional life that have nothing to do with my health issues.  It has been a long and ongoing struggle that really came to a head this week.  Last week I worked a full week and had 4 appointments in 5 days.  I was wiped going into the holiday weekend, and I had a wedding and 2 parties to attend, plus my usual volunteering at the cat shelter and grocery shopping, etc.  While I actually really enjoyed myself over the holiday, I never really rested like I needed to.  I walked into this week and it was one struggle after another.  One day I actually accidentally put my phone in airplane mode after turning off the alarm so my poor mother had to drive to my house to wake me up.  Yes, my mom gives me a “wake up call” or two, don’t judge me, I’m not a morning person to begin with and I’m still not sleeping right.  Then, I proceeded to shoot my mouth off about something, which I never do because I’m a type A control freak, and couldn’t bring myself to care.  That kind of thing.  Yesterday I was fighting off a migraine all day (that responded to Excedrin thank the Lord because I don’t know what I would have done).

In the midst of all that, I had a day where my depression sunk really, really low, and instead of reacting how I normally do (isolation, tears, lack of energy, sleeping excessively, etc), I had pure anger and blind rage.  I think dealing with an obscene amount of hypocrisy and unfair criticism just made me snap.  It was scary and totally unlike me.  I have a temper, but I always have control of it and instead I was very volatile and felt unpredictable.

At that point, I did not allow myself to be alone and ended up going out to dinner with my mom because I didn’t know what was going on.  I had chocolate chip pancakes for dinner (so healthy, I know) and calmed down.  I realized that I could not allow myself to be in situations where that happens because, quite frankly, I don’t have the energy for it, and I cannot control it, and uncontrolled anger is BAD news.  Then I got frustrated because I can’t run right now so my coping mechanism is gone.  Before, I got angry or frustrated, I poured it into a 3+ mile run, and boom, done, all better.  Yesterday, I talked to a friend all night and coped well.

 

But don’t you know it, this morning all it took was 20 minutes for the rage to be triggered.  You know how some people know how to hit you where it really, really hurts?  Yeah, happy Friday, I had one of those moments.  I managed to keep it together, thanks to my mom.  I absolutely cannot hold all the bad things in….I have to spew it out (think word vomit) so it doesn’t stay trapped inside my mind.  I talked with her…and she told me that it’s hard and it does get easier, and no one’s perfect even if they think they are, and to take the high road.  “When they go low, we go high,” as Michelle Obama says (I love that quote).  Sometimes that high road is treacherous, and lonely, and scary, but it’s always better.

 

This afternoon, I internalized a lot of what my mom said.  I have worked too damn hard to get where I am and I have been too damn sick lately to let some nasty human being ruin my weekend by their words and opinions alone.  I’m going to be depressed and anxious sometimes, and I’m going to struggle, but I’m not giving one person, or place or thing, anywhere near close to that kind of power.  And the “uniqueness” of my makeup makes me a problem solver and an “out of the box” thinker, and that’s more valuable than someone else’s good opinion.  “To be yourself is all that you can do” and it is the *best* thing you can do for yourself.

 

I hope anyone reading this that has depression got something out of my little ramble, or maybe even some new coping techniques.  Until next time, be well.

“I keep fighting voices in my mind that say I’m not enough
Every single lie that tells me I will never measure up
Am I more than just the sum of every high and every low?
Remind me once again just who I am, because I need to know

You say I am loved when I can’t feel a thing
You say I am strong when I think I am weak
You say I am held when I am falling short
When I don’t belong, oh You say that I am Yours
And I believe, oh I believe
What You say of me
I believe”

-Lauren Daigle, “You Say”

I am an assistant prosecuting attorney that practices in a Drug Court program, and May is National Drug Court Awareness Month.  Since I firmly believe addiction ties closely into mental health, and I explored two of physical ailments last post, today I decided to post about my anxiety and depression.

On some level I always knew I had anxiety.  I just didn’t realize it was a mental health issue for me.  I’ve always been the worry wort, the person who was wound up tighter than the rest, nervous at the start of every big event: plays in high school, running in races in each phase of my life, Moot Court competitions or mock trials in law school, big trials as a prosecutor.  Many times my mother would have to yell at me: “Lauren, get it together!  You’re fine!”  It was like a verbal slap to get my mind off of a loop of bad thoughts.

But the more nervous I was, the better I performed.  And if something had to be done, and be done RIGHT NOW (for example, walking into work at 8:30 and having to charge a juvenile on a felony and oh yeah, I was in court from 9-12 pm), there was no time to be anxious.  It was go time.  Exam time, in the middle of trial I was fine.  Golden, even.  Anxiety made me sharp, helped me think on my feet, and ensured that I was as prepared beforehand as I could be.  So I never really saw it as a mental health problem.

Until I couldn’t sleep at night.  I was exhausted, but couldn’t sleep.  I have had issues with sleep since I was 16.  I took melatonin, and because I was running track and cross country and working weekends in high school, I slept like a baby with the melatonin.  But then the melatonin stopped working.  And migraines took over my life.  And I started passing out as soon as I hit the couch when I got home from work.  Then, before I knew it, at bed time my mind had racing thoughts.  Like it couldn’t just shut up.  Because I wasn’t running at this point (thanks exhaustion and migraines) and the only time my mind completely shut off was when I ran, all these unwelcome thoughts kept popping up when I should have been sleeping.  Even then, even when my neurologist prescribed me an anti-anxiety medication to help me sleep, I didn’t make the connection.

Then I became increasingly depressed.  Not suicidal, not ever, thank God.  Just incredibly sad.  Like all I did was work and sleep, because I was too tired to manage anything else.  Slept for 3 hours after work, and slept till 12 or 1 pm Saturday and Sunday.  Which meant no more running or training for races, no hobbies, nada.  This, from the woman who ran six miles on Saturdays then painted her house for a few hours right after she bought it.  From the same woman who ran her first 2 half marathons right at the end of law school close to finals.  Who kept running while studying for the bar.  Who had a seizure and ended up in the hospital and was back at work the next day.  Who ran a half marathon one weekend at Cedar Point and while driving home ordered food for her mother’s surprise birthday party the following week, worked all week, cleaned house Friday night, went to the Cleveland Orchestra Saturday, and ran around town running errands prior to the party Sunday, all while keeping her mother completely in the dark.

Yeah.  These issues were disconcerting, to say the least.  I have always had really high highs and really low lows.  But I was beginning to wonder if all my life was was “the sum of every high and every low,” like the song says.  I thought it was just my physical problems, so I doubled down on doctor’s appointments.  That led to the sleep apnea diagnosis, but I still wasn’t happy.  I knew there were issues I couldn’t control (like work, my physical limitations) but I wasn’t making progress.

This was the point where I suspected I had clinical anxiety and depression.  But I still didn’t want to go to counseling.  How was talking to someone I didn’t know going to help if even talking to those I loved didn’t?  At this point I was pretty low.  Work wasn’t going well.  I was drowning in work without any direction, and only criticism when I asked for help.  The lowest I got was when I was moved from juvenile court to child support, because I did everything I could to be an awesome prosecutor, and there were so many people that respected me, but none of it mattered.  I had made major sacrifices for it too, completely compromising my physical health.  I still wasn’t running.  I had gained weight.  Not so much that people noticed, but enough that I was very unhappy with my body.  Migraines were coming every weekend.  I couldn’t even celebrate Valentine’s Day with my husband without having to go home early.  I definitely couldn’t keep up with cleaning my house minus laundry, dishes, and feeding my cats.  When my husband was in the hospital with heart issues, he didn’t want me to leave work for fear of jeopardizing something with my job.  And I was always, always exhausted.  The only reason I pulled myself out of bed on Saturdays at all was because I was expected at the cat shelter that I volunteered at every Saturday.

However, what saved me was being a juvenile prosecutor.  I had recommended counseling for thousands of kids.  And I didn’t have a negative view of counseling.  To the contrary, I viewed it as simple medical treatment.  Getting your mind and body on the same page.  But I refused it as a valid treatment for myself.  Until I realized, “you have requested thousands of kids go to counseling, and you know you have anxiety and depression, and you won’t go, why?  No good reason, you just don’t want to.  Do you really want to be a hypocrite?”

I hate hypocrisy.  I called a counselor that day.  And I’ve been in counseling ever since.  I can make beating myself up an Olympic sport, that’s how nasty I am to myself.  Yet, I’m the first person to give someone else the benefit of the doubt.  Counseling helped to give me the permission to give myself a much needed break.  To realize how unfair and mean I was being to myself, and change it.  Being nice to myself is still a struggle, but it’s much easier now than it was two years ago.  I catch myself in these thoughts and say “now you know that that’s not fair,” and I have stopping comparing myself to others on a daily basis (thank God, comparison really is the thief of joy, and the grass is NOT greener on the other side, no matter what tricks your mind wants to play on you).  It also made me realize that no matter how loyal I am, not everyone or everything is deserving of my loyalty.

I had the same struggle with getting on antidepressants….however, this wasn’t seated in my own prejudice.  Some antidepressants heighten your risk of seizures, so I was scared, being epileptic.  I also realllly didn’t want to gain more weight (vain, I know, but what can you do?).  I realized at the end of last year that I wasn’t improving the way I wanted to, and it was time to explore the option, no matter how much it pained me.  It took me a couple of months to get in to see a psychiatrist, but I’ve been on Lexapro all of 2019, and it has made a MAJOR difference.  When I first took it, I thought, “is this how normal people feel all the time?”  I had forgotten what it was like.  I’m still not running (physical issues like migraines, sleep apnea, allergies, and most recently, the cold from hell, are getting in the way), but I’m noticing things like “this is good running weather” or “I’d love to paint that scene” (another of my hobbies gone by the wayside is art and scrapbooking).  I told my husband, “Don’t make an album of our vacation pictures, I’ll do a scrapbook, look what I can do,” showing him scrapbooks I had made.  I haven’t scrapbooked since college.  Im reading books again. My migraines put my mood in the toilet, but after playing with the Lexapro dosage, I notice myself not going so low.  It helps to not be so sad.

My faith in God is really what helps me get through all this.  I know that these roadblocks are Satan’s work, but God is trying to teach me through them, even if I’m impatient and wish I could learn the lessons RIGHT NOW.  That’s why I used Lauren Daigle’s “I Say” as my lyrical quote for this blog (I love music lyrics, what can I say?  My goal is to start every blog with them), not only is it how I view depression, but it’s also how I overcome my depression, by knowing that God believes I am perfect just the way I am.

Well, I think I’ve explained most of my physical and mental health issues now.  I wonder what I’ll have to say next.  Until next time readers, be well.

“Come on with it, come on

You don’t fight fair

That’s okay, see if I care

Knock me down, it’s all in vain

I get right back on my feet again

Hit me with your best shot

Come on and hit me with your best shot

Hit me with your best shot

Fire away”

Well, that about sums up the past month or so.  I’m a stubborn individual by nature, which is why the lyrics above speak to me.  No disease or one person and their opinion will make me quit pushing for my goals.  Hit me with your best shot.  That said, this month has been rough.

My goal was to blog once a week, and describe my illnesses one at a time, in greater detail.  Fail.  Epic fail.  And in another one of life’s great ironies, it was because of those said health conditions that I failed.  I have managed to have a seizure, multiple severe migraines (resulting in multiple missed days of work), a failed sleep apnea surgery appointment, and was forced to expedite a counseling session, all within the past 60 days.  Also, work hasn’t exactly gone well either.  I came back from vacation this week (vacation was lovely, by the way, and the major bright spot in all this) and was forced to work late and through lunch most days because shit hit the proverbial fan while I was away.  I also managed to lose my keys for a day, bringing my anxiety to a 10 out of 10.

A doozy isn’t it?  Remember all those anvils from the Looney Tunes cartoons I talked about in my last post?  Yep.  This was like 5 all at once.  Worse still, I KNEW working through lunch and working late was likely to bring on a migraine.  I knew it, and I did it anyway, because dealing with the anxiety of it all would surely ruin my weekend….whereas who the hell can predict my migraines?  But, as sure as the sun rises in the East, I had a migraine yesterday.  I’m lucky it was gone today (yes, that’s where I’m at, grateful they only last one day as opposed to a week or more).

So I guess I’ll use this opportunity to explain two of the conditions affecting my day to day life: migraines and sleep apnea.

Migraines are different for everyone.  But make no mistake, one thing is the same for everyone: migraines are everyone’s personal version of hell on earth.  Mine are characterized by extreme pain in the front of my head, light sensitivity, and sound sensitivity.  I have difficulty reading or looking at a computer screen and concentrating.  I cannot have the lights on in my office at work at all, whether or not I have a migraine that day, because they are too bright and could trigger one.  I essentially sit in the dark, with the exception of a lamp.   Sometimes you couldn’t pay me to drive my car, because I feel every bump in the road.  And I have zero warning (i.e. no auras), and zero idea how long they will last.  Sometimes Excedrin helps, sometimes it doesn’t.  Sometimes Starbucks helps, sometimes it doesn’t.  Sometimes I can sleep, sometimes not.  Lately, a migraine lasts 7-9 days.  It only lasted the weekend before, but they came almost every weekend.  I’m not responsive to any traditional abortive prescriptions like Imitrex, so I rely solely on preventatives.  I have a prescription that I take and if it wasn’t for that, I’d have a migraine every day….but it isn’t strong enough, migraines break through.  So now I’m on a new shot called Aimovig.  I literally inject myself with two needles (I need a double dose) that resemble an Epipen once a month.  My insurance won’t cover it, so my doctor has to appeal it.  Yay.  As you can imagine, as a lawyer who uses a computer and is exposed to bright, florescent lights daily, this disability is beyond difficult.

Because my migraines are so bad, I can’t wear my CPAP for my sleep apnea on a consistent basis because, really, when I’m in that much pain, I only want two things touching my head: the pillow and water from the shower.  My sleep apnea is moderate, but severe in REM sleep, so it’s essential for me to wear it to get any restorative rest  (and for the love of all that is good and holy, NO I DO NOT SNORE).  However, when I do try to wear the CPAP mask, I rip it off after two hours.  I also have to be half passed out to wear it, which ends up in me sleeping most of the night on the couch.  As a result, when I do get any sleep, I still feel like garbage in the morning, and a night of sleep that is “good’ for me would be crap for most anyone else.  I am no longer capable of waking up to an alarm, because I sleep so poorly.  My mom calls and wakes me up for work.  Don’t get me started on how depressed that makes me.  I had a consultation for a surgery this week; I’m not eligible because of being epileptic and the strength of MRIs being limited after this surgery.

So it’s now on my very looong to-do list to find a sleep dentist (yes, there is such a thing) to fit me with a mouth guard to lock my jaw in place while I sleep so I don’t obstruct my breathing, while hoping to God it works and I feel rested, because apparently you can lower your incidents of stopped breathing and still feel like garbage daily, which makes me wonder why I’m working so hard to get this under control, other than my husband squawking about my increased risk of a heart attack and stroke if I don’t.

Oh yeah, I miss running.  That’s why I’m trying so hard,  I miss art,  And scrapbooking, and hell, reading for fun.  I was migraine free all vacation, so I read 2 books and almost finished a 3rd.  I hadn’t read for fun since before Christmas because of the migraines….and I cannot imagine me stopping breathing several times a night while I sleep is helpful for them.  I miss doing things after work, besides passing out on the couch.  I miss my life.

I know several people who just recently finished half or full marathons.  It’s hard not to be jealous.  I am not, because the grass is never greener on the other side, I just wish I was healthy enough to at least try to do one.

Thank God for Lexapro (my depression med).  I’m at least in a place to dream of doing things again.  Before, I was trying but I just couldn’t get there mentally.  Now, I just need my body to cooperate.

Sorry if that sounded like a long rant…but I hope you all understand these conditions a little better now.  Be well, readers, and talk to you soon.

 

 

Recently, I read an article by Wil Wheaton regarding a speech he gave to NAMI.  It started like this: “My name is Wil Wheaton, and I have chronic depression.”

Oh, if it were only that simple for me.

Well, there’s a first time for everything, so hi readers, my name is Lauren Hase.  I have a wonderful husband who is a nurse for the Cleveland Clinic’s neurological medical-surgical floor.  I have supportive parents who are semi-retired and active world travelers.  I have a younger brother, who is a Tech Sergeant Select in the United States Air Force, stationed at Ramstein Air Force Base, Germany, who is also wonderful and supportive.  I have been a licensed attorney for six years, and I’m good at it.  My dream is to be a criminal prosecutor and eventually head up a division.  I graduated from University of Toledo for undergrad and law school with honors.  I love running and I have run five half marathons, and running the Boston Marathon is on my bucket list.  I run the Cleveland Turkey Trot every year.  I am a semi-decent artist and would love to sell my work one day.  I love scrapbooking and anything creative.  I apparently am a writer now too (albeit in the form of a blog).  I love animals.   I have four cats, Oscar, Shadow, Raven and Ace, who I love more than most people.  I volunteer every week at the shelter I rescued them from.  I want to rescue a male German shepherd as the first dog I ever own, and name him Smitty, after my grandpa’s shepherd-collie mix.  I love to read.  I am an adrenaline junkie, the higher and faster the roller coaster, the better.  I want to go skydiving one day.

All of these things about me are, in my opinion, more important that what I’m about to tell you.

My name is Lauren, and I have epilepsy, chronic migraines, obstructive sleep apnea, allergies that get worse by the year (including, in one of life’s great ironies, to cats), depression, and anxiety.

My husband and family might disagree that those things aren’t as important.  They might be right.  But I hate being defined by my health problems.  So none of those things are as important as my hopes and dreams, they’re just speed bumps on my way to a kick ass future.

Okay, that’s not entirely true.  They aren’t speed bumps.  They’re like anvils out of the Looney Tunes cartoons.  You just get moving and wham!  One (or three or five, depending) gets dropped directly on your head. 

I sincerely hope nobody reading this suffers from these illnesses, or any other chronic conditions.  I wouldn’t wish it on Adolf Hitler.  However, if you’re interested in reading this, you probably do.  So let me say that I am so sorry.  You don’t deserve this.  No one does.

The one thing I want anyone reading this to understand is, everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about.  Be kind.  I have become very, very good at putting on my brave face, sucking it up, and working through whatever pain I have, and unless I tell you I have a migraine or I didn’t sleep well (again) or just plain feel like garbage that day, there’s no way you would ever know.  While I don’t mind anyone and everyone knowing about my health issues (it’s a good educational opportunity about invisible illnesses), I am always concerned I’ll be perceived as weak or frail if people know the full extent of it, especially as a female and especially as a female attorney (sorry guys, sexism still exists).  I’d rather work through things in pain or sick than deal with being called weak, unreliable, or deal with the anxiety of my work piling up.  Plus, there are always people around you who say they “get it” and say they are supportive and ask about your doctor visits and how you’re feeling.  Then, at the first opportunity they have, usually when it becomes inconvenient for them that you don’t feel well or their guard is down, they dig in at you, criticize you and try to tear you down.  I know plenty of those.

Newsflash to those people: you don’t get it.  You don’t live with it every second of every day.  And unless you do, you never WILL get it.  So know that, and either be supportive or hit the road.  I don’t have the time or energy for it.

I think that’s all for today.  I’ll explain my diagnoses further later, but I just wanted everyone to know a little about me.  To all my other chronic illness sufferers out there, be well.