Hello readers! Thank you for taking the time to read my blog. I know there are lots of other things you could be spending your time reading, so I do appreciate you making the choice to pick my post :)
Well, like many of my other posts, I've thought a great deal on this topic. Not only because I suffer from it myself, but because I feel there is a lack of people in my boat speaking about it. I'm talking about mental illness. I know I did another blog on it before, well maybe a few, but this one I really want to share my point of view on it. So to begin...
Lately there have been some celebrity suicides that have sparked the conversation of mental health. Television hosts have shared their opinions, and I see more and more memes talking about it. I do think we as a society have progressed in making mental illness less taboo, but it's still a "tricky" subject. There are very strong and loud people who believe a camping trip can solve your mental instabilities. Or there are people who think throwing pills at any sign of problem is the answer. I do believe that both options can be a solution...heavily depending on the person in question. Either way, I think our nation is recognizing that mental health is a serious thing, and should not be taken lightly.
When I was nine years old, the first traumatic thing happened in my life. There was a divorce in my family, and I remember hearing the news and not understanding it. I grew up with a mom and a dad who loved each other, and I thought divorce was only on the movies. (Which usually ended up as the couple getting back together). I sat on my bed in my room and just stared. Looking back, I now know this is when signs of my mental illness began. I stopped eating, playing with friends didn't sound fun, and I honestly longed to be a fly on the wall. Or a picture frame. Lifeless. These are thoughts a nine year old probably shouldn't have. It was a really hard time for my family, and looking back I think we all did the best we could.
As I got a little older, the other side of my mental illness showed up. I'm not going to go into every detail, but I did things that I would never do as myself. I ran cross country in 7th and 8th grade, and according to my doctor later on, that would be why I went undiagnosed for so long. My mental illness is Bi-Polar 1 Disorder , the worst kind of bi-polar. I have both manic and depressive phases. So when I ran cross country, I would run out the energy of mania, then give myself endorphins when I was depressed. This didn't stop my episodes from happening, just made them less apparent I guess. I did some really awful things, and when I would come down from the mania, I wouldn't know why I had done them.
New environments is a really big trigger for my disease, so when we moved to Idaho when I was 14, it got really bad. Some of my teachers even thought I was doing drugs because I was so manic. Way to make a good first impression, eh? Anyway, one of the episodes landed me in the hospital. I can't remember why, but after 5 minutes with a psychiatrist, he knew I had Bi-Polar Disorder. It explained a lot to my parents, and I suppose a lot to me once I became stable again and could understand. Medication, in my case, was the definite answer. And only answer, really. So I spent two months in a residential treatment facility where they found the right combination to help me stay stable. I really, really wish I could say my story with mental illness ends there, and that I've been stable ever since I left the treatment facility. But, as you can guess, I can't.
Going back to high school set off another episode, where I cut all my own hair off, and landed another hospital stay. This time it was shorter, though, and we were able to get me back in school and functioning properly. I ran cross country again Junior year and, although kids were pretty brutal, high school wasn't too bad. I stayed fairly stable through most of it, and graduated on time (which was actually rather impressive given my ninth grade start).
After I graduated, I went to BYU-I and didn't have any problems. My doctor even said maybe I would be ok without medication one day. That maybe it was my adolescence that made the episodes so bad. Well, this was false hope because I will always be on medication. Anyway, my point is there was hope.
After one semester at "The Burg", I decided that was not where I wanted to be. I moved to California and thought I would take my doctor up on his guess, and quit taking my medicine. I'm sure you can imagine, but all hell broke loose and I only lasted about a month a half out there. I moved back home, then after a few months moved down to Salt Lake. I promised myself I would always take my medicine, no matter how "good" I was feeling. I've taken it every day since, not once skipping. (Besides when I was pregnant, because somehow I'm super stable on the natural pregnancy hormone..fancy that)
I did pretty well in Utah. Despite not actually going to college, which is why I went in the first place, I was able to hold down a job, pay rent, and be on my own. I made friends, dated, and had a really good time. This is where my adoption post comes in, and explains that large part of my life. It's hard for me to remember if I had an episode right around the time I got pregnant because I was pregnant or because my medicine wasn't working, but I do remember taking it until my doctor told me to stop.
This is turning out longer than I anticipated, but thank you if you're still hanging on ;)
I consider myself very lucky that the depression I suffered from the adoption was what you would expect to suffer, and wasn't anything out of the ordinary. I do think my medication had a part to play in that. Well, right before I met my sweet Lucas, I was prescribed a birth control that counteracted my medication in a very negative way. But, like most people do, I listened to my OB/GYN and took it without researching it first. HUGE mistake on my part. It doesn't take a neurologist to figure out happened next. It took a good month and half or so for my mom and I to put together that it was the birth control making me crazy. I even went to the mental hospital for a week and even they didn't have an answer as to why I was having episodes. Somehow, Lucas stayed with me during the whole thing, and we were all very relieved when I stopped taking the birth control and returned to normalcy.
I was stable up until January 2016 when the medicine I was taking just simply wasn't enough anymore. Unfortunately, Lucas and I hadn't planned ahead and we didn't have a doctor to go to down here in Nevada, so it got ugly before we had the help for it to get better. I am happy to say, however, that that was my last episode and I haven't had one since *knocks on wood*. I'm hoping to stay on top of it and always have a therapist and psychiatrist ready in case any red flags start to show up.
My purpose in sharing my life story is so that people can understand better. It's very, very hard to understand mental illness if you don't have it. It's that way with lots of things. I can easily say having Bi-Polar has ruined my life in several ways. I wasn't able to finish my Dental Assisting certificate because of it, I lost many close relationships because of it, and there is just a lot of lost time because of it. The only reason I'm grateful for my disorder is because it opened my mind to others who suffer from mental illness. I know Anxiety and Depression are real things people have to live with. I know OCD isn't just a "neat freak" thing. I know a lot about not being able to trust your own mind. And let me tell you, it sucks. It really, really sucks.
I think the hardest part of having a mental illness is not having a way to explain to people what it feels like. Or watching people think that what you did or what you said while you were having an episode is what you are really like. That it somehow represents something that's actually part of who you are. I can tell you right now, not a SINGLE episode I've had has been an accurate representation of who I am or something I feel. Not even a little bit. I always came down from being manic and would look back and be so, so embarrassed of the things I did or said. And it never made sense, it never once was something I had been thinking of or wanting to do.
So, if there's one thing I want you to take away from this post, it's understanding. Maybe you know someone in your life who has told you they have a mental illness. Or maybe they were anxious, or manic, or depressed, and did something to hurt you. My plea is to just try to understand. It's not their true selves doing these things. And, like I said earlier in this post, maybe some of these people just need a camping trip to clear their heads and take a break. But more often than not, actual help is needed from a professional. Understanding something you don't have yourself is hard, but maybe we can try a little harder and be more empathetic (or sympathetic?) and help those around us who are suffering.
Thank you so much if you've read this. I hope it has shed some light on a topic we're not all comfortable with.
-Allison S. Dahl
Thursday, June 28, 2018
Thursday, February 1, 2018
I Miss You, Dad
Hello again, readers! As promised, here is another post...before March :)
For those of you who don't know, my father passed away from cancer June 1st, 2017. He had been fighting it for 14 months, and ultimately the cancer won.
I've written about my dad on here before, and reading those posts has been comforting. I think what I've been wanting to write about is how his absence has really had an impact on my life.
Obviously when you lose a parent to death, there's going to be a void. No matter your age or the circumstance, you're losing someone that is vitally important to you. I was 24 when my dad died, and I really felt like that was not fair. I kept thinking, "well, younger people have lost their parents..." but I kind of hate that line of thinking because this was hard for me. The whole "someone has it worse than you" is so belittling to your problems that I try my best not to use that. But that's beyond my point. Anyway, I felt too young to be losing my dad. He and I were close and he was such a good friend to me. Plus, I had a 5 month old that didn't even know him yet. I was angry and sad.
For you to really grasp this impact, you first need to understand who my dad was to me. He was my dad, yes, but he was a really good dad. He dropped everything for me on several occasions. And I don't mean that figuratively, like he actually dropped all his plans/called off work to come rescue me from situations or problems I was having. An example of this was when I was living in Salt Lake. I was going through a really hard time. I was dating Adelé's father and he wasn't very kind to me, I was pretty poor, and I had lost my hope for life. I called my dad and told him I was struggling. That's pretty much all I said. The next thing I knew, he was on his way down to Salt Lake to take me to dinner and even buy me a new (well used, but in great condition) car. (I was driving a really crappy, beat up pickup truck at the time.) It may have been a simple outing, but it helped so much. He let me talk and vent about whatever I wanted. He didn't pry or ask me questions I didn't want to answer. He actually surprised me with the car, and he did all this to make me feel better. I'm sure it wasn't convenient. I'm sure it was a little burdensome. But that didn't bother him. He just did things like that for me.
My dad was also a talker. If you ever knew the man, you can attest to this. Sometimes, and I hate admitting this, when my phone would ring and I would see it was him, I would roll my eyes because I knew I'd be on the phone for the next 45 minutes. Now, I would give anything to have another phone call with him. I never felt like it was a waste of time after we hung up, though. We always had good conversations. He always listened to me and made me feel validated and heard. He gave advice, even when I didn't necessarily ask for it ;) he did make sure to warn me first that it was coming, though. He was usually right with his advice. My dad was always a phone call away if I needed to talk, and always ready to tell me things whenever.
Today marks eight months since his passing. Part of me can't believe it's been that long, while the other part feels like it's been much longer. I still have a text message thread from my dad. I go back and read it from time to time, even though it only consists of "Hey, missed you tonight. I'll try to call again tomorrow" and other texts like that. There are days where I think about him a lot, and others where I think of him only a few times here and there. But I do think of him every day. I miss him. I miss him so much. Every time McCartney does something funny, or new, or cute I think "oh I should record this to send to my dad" and my heart breaks a little knowing I can't. There have been a few times where I could really use some advice on how to handle a situation, and he's not there to call. Worst of all is missing his hugs. We had this thing ever since I was a little kid that we called "hug a bugs" and it was basically just a big bear hug. Even as an adult we would always say "can't wait to give you a hug a bug!" and I would love one of those right now.
I am grateful I got my dad for 24 years of my life, but I do wish I had more. Of course, everyone does. We all wish for more time with our loved ones. I'm grateful for the example he set for me by loving my mom and my family with all he had. Sure, he had his flaws and he didn't do everything perfectly. But for me, my dad was a great dad. I will miss him until I get to see him again. Until then, I'll cherish the memories I have of him and hold on to love he had for me.
-Allison S. Dahl
For those of you who don't know, my father passed away from cancer June 1st, 2017. He had been fighting it for 14 months, and ultimately the cancer won.
I've written about my dad on here before, and reading those posts has been comforting. I think what I've been wanting to write about is how his absence has really had an impact on my life.
Obviously when you lose a parent to death, there's going to be a void. No matter your age or the circumstance, you're losing someone that is vitally important to you. I was 24 when my dad died, and I really felt like that was not fair. I kept thinking, "well, younger people have lost their parents..." but I kind of hate that line of thinking because this was hard for me. The whole "someone has it worse than you" is so belittling to your problems that I try my best not to use that. But that's beyond my point. Anyway, I felt too young to be losing my dad. He and I were close and he was such a good friend to me. Plus, I had a 5 month old that didn't even know him yet. I was angry and sad.
For you to really grasp this impact, you first need to understand who my dad was to me. He was my dad, yes, but he was a really good dad. He dropped everything for me on several occasions. And I don't mean that figuratively, like he actually dropped all his plans/called off work to come rescue me from situations or problems I was having. An example of this was when I was living in Salt Lake. I was going through a really hard time. I was dating Adelé's father and he wasn't very kind to me, I was pretty poor, and I had lost my hope for life. I called my dad and told him I was struggling. That's pretty much all I said. The next thing I knew, he was on his way down to Salt Lake to take me to dinner and even buy me a new (well used, but in great condition) car. (I was driving a really crappy, beat up pickup truck at the time.) It may have been a simple outing, but it helped so much. He let me talk and vent about whatever I wanted. He didn't pry or ask me questions I didn't want to answer. He actually surprised me with the car, and he did all this to make me feel better. I'm sure it wasn't convenient. I'm sure it was a little burdensome. But that didn't bother him. He just did things like that for me.
My dad was also a talker. If you ever knew the man, you can attest to this. Sometimes, and I hate admitting this, when my phone would ring and I would see it was him, I would roll my eyes because I knew I'd be on the phone for the next 45 minutes. Now, I would give anything to have another phone call with him. I never felt like it was a waste of time after we hung up, though. We always had good conversations. He always listened to me and made me feel validated and heard. He gave advice, even when I didn't necessarily ask for it ;) he did make sure to warn me first that it was coming, though. He was usually right with his advice. My dad was always a phone call away if I needed to talk, and always ready to tell me things whenever.
Today marks eight months since his passing. Part of me can't believe it's been that long, while the other part feels like it's been much longer. I still have a text message thread from my dad. I go back and read it from time to time, even though it only consists of "Hey, missed you tonight. I'll try to call again tomorrow" and other texts like that. There are days where I think about him a lot, and others where I think of him only a few times here and there. But I do think of him every day. I miss him. I miss him so much. Every time McCartney does something funny, or new, or cute I think "oh I should record this to send to my dad" and my heart breaks a little knowing I can't. There have been a few times where I could really use some advice on how to handle a situation, and he's not there to call. Worst of all is missing his hugs. We had this thing ever since I was a little kid that we called "hug a bugs" and it was basically just a big bear hug. Even as an adult we would always say "can't wait to give you a hug a bug!" and I would love one of those right now.
I am grateful I got my dad for 24 years of my life, but I do wish I had more. Of course, everyone does. We all wish for more time with our loved ones. I'm grateful for the example he set for me by loving my mom and my family with all he had. Sure, he had his flaws and he didn't do everything perfectly. But for me, my dad was a great dad. I will miss him until I get to see him again. Until then, I'll cherish the memories I have of him and hold on to love he had for me.
-Allison S. Dahl
Saturday, January 27, 2018
The Stay at Home Life is the Life For Me
Hello again readers! Once again, ample amounts of time has passed since I last wrote. I guess that's my new norm.
One thing I didn't mention in my last blog is that while I was pregnant, Lucas and I decided that I would be a stay-at-home-mom. We did the math, and it turned out I would be working to pay for daycare. It didn't make much sense to go back to work just so someone else could watch my baby. Don't get me wrong, I loved my job, but the idea of leaving my baby didn't sound worth it. So I worked up until 10 days before she was born, and then that was it! I was no longer employed.
At first it was really surreal. The baby came and took most of my attention, but I kept having thoughts like, "ok just one more week, then back to work" or "I wonder if my boss will let me extend my time off" and even "she better start sleeping at night because I have to get up early for work". I would constantly have to remind myself I indeed was not going back to work. I suppose that's normal since I had been in the working world for eight years. It was really hard to fathom that my new job consisted of a 24/7 schedule with no time off, no benefits, and no paycheck. It also meant, though, that I didn't have to worry about hours or asking to have doctor's appointments off. I could schedule anything for McCartney at any time! I could stay up with McCartney and then get to snuggle and sleep in with her the next morning. It was really weird at first, but I got used to it.
With the joys of staying home, there are also the downsides. I think the hardest thing about being a stay-at-home mom is the lack of adult interactions. I'm sure you've heard that many times from other moms who stay home, but I really didn't think it would be as big of a deal as it is. It can be really challenging sometimes when the only other adult you see is your husband. Sometimes I feel bad for Lucas, because he'll come home and I'll just chat his ear off since I haven't had the chance to talk all day. I've tried a few times to talk to McCartney, you know, outside the normal baby babble, and it hasn't really caught on. Thus, I save all my thoughts during the day for a nice spout that Lucas gets to endure once he comes home. He's a really good sport though, and claims he's fine with it.
Another challenge with staying at home is that I often feel I am not contributing enough. This mainly comes from the fact that McCartney (my new boss) doesn't pay me in American currency. We have a snuggle and kisses deal worked out, so I can't complain too much. Anyway, it's a struggle for me to not be helping financially. When Lucas and I first moved to Las Vegas, my job was the breadwinner. He was going to school and working at school, and I was working, so the money I earned was what was helping us most. I guess there's a sense of pride in that. Then when he got his current job, and it became a team effort, I still felt the sense of pulling my own weight. I know that caring for a child is extremely challenging and is definitely helping our household, but there are times I have to remind myself it's ok I'm not bringing home a paycheck. I think this is another thing that time will have to help me get used to.
Now that I've made staying at home sound like a bummer, let me tell you the good things. I get to spend all day with my sweet McCartney. I was there for her first smile, her first giggle, the first time she rolled over, the first time she signed back to me, and all her other first milestones. I'm the one she wants when she's scared, nervous, happy, sad, excited, or really any emotion. I get to just hold her while she's sleeping and enjoy the silence and listen to her tiny little breaths going in and out. I get to spend every moment taking care of the sweet girl God gave me. I suppose I can trade adult interactions and money for that ;) In all seriousness though, staying home has been the greatest blessing to our family. I consider myself extremely lucky that Lucas and I were able to work out this arrangement.
Speaking of Lucas, I am so proud of him. He is an excellent father, an honor student (each and every semester!), and a valued employee (his bosses love him). I sometimes sit back and am amazed I landed such a wonderful husband. He takes time to make sure I feel appreciated and noticed. He always takes care of me when I forget to do so myself. He helps with McCartney when he can tell that we've had a "day". I'm so grateful for him and the wonderful man he is. I know always gush about him, but man, how could I not?!
Well, that is my sum-up of being a Stay at Home Mom. There's much more to it than what I've written of course, but my post is just mainly the big things that have stood out to me so far.
I'm happy to say I have another post pending!! I'm not sure when I'll post it, but probably before March :)
Thank you again for reading, your views always mean so much to me!
-Allison S. Dahl
One thing I didn't mention in my last blog is that while I was pregnant, Lucas and I decided that I would be a stay-at-home-mom. We did the math, and it turned out I would be working to pay for daycare. It didn't make much sense to go back to work just so someone else could watch my baby. Don't get me wrong, I loved my job, but the idea of leaving my baby didn't sound worth it. So I worked up until 10 days before she was born, and then that was it! I was no longer employed.
At first it was really surreal. The baby came and took most of my attention, but I kept having thoughts like, "ok just one more week, then back to work" or "I wonder if my boss will let me extend my time off" and even "she better start sleeping at night because I have to get up early for work". I would constantly have to remind myself I indeed was not going back to work. I suppose that's normal since I had been in the working world for eight years. It was really hard to fathom that my new job consisted of a 24/7 schedule with no time off, no benefits, and no paycheck. It also meant, though, that I didn't have to worry about hours or asking to have doctor's appointments off. I could schedule anything for McCartney at any time! I could stay up with McCartney and then get to snuggle and sleep in with her the next morning. It was really weird at first, but I got used to it.
With the joys of staying home, there are also the downsides. I think the hardest thing about being a stay-at-home mom is the lack of adult interactions. I'm sure you've heard that many times from other moms who stay home, but I really didn't think it would be as big of a deal as it is. It can be really challenging sometimes when the only other adult you see is your husband. Sometimes I feel bad for Lucas, because he'll come home and I'll just chat his ear off since I haven't had the chance to talk all day. I've tried a few times to talk to McCartney, you know, outside the normal baby babble, and it hasn't really caught on. Thus, I save all my thoughts during the day for a nice spout that Lucas gets to endure once he comes home. He's a really good sport though, and claims he's fine with it.
Another challenge with staying at home is that I often feel I am not contributing enough. This mainly comes from the fact that McCartney (my new boss) doesn't pay me in American currency. We have a snuggle and kisses deal worked out, so I can't complain too much. Anyway, it's a struggle for me to not be helping financially. When Lucas and I first moved to Las Vegas, my job was the breadwinner. He was going to school and working at school, and I was working, so the money I earned was what was helping us most. I guess there's a sense of pride in that. Then when he got his current job, and it became a team effort, I still felt the sense of pulling my own weight. I know that caring for a child is extremely challenging and is definitely helping our household, but there are times I have to remind myself it's ok I'm not bringing home a paycheck. I think this is another thing that time will have to help me get used to.
Now that I've made staying at home sound like a bummer, let me tell you the good things. I get to spend all day with my sweet McCartney. I was there for her first smile, her first giggle, the first time she rolled over, the first time she signed back to me, and all her other first milestones. I'm the one she wants when she's scared, nervous, happy, sad, excited, or really any emotion. I get to just hold her while she's sleeping and enjoy the silence and listen to her tiny little breaths going in and out. I get to spend every moment taking care of the sweet girl God gave me. I suppose I can trade adult interactions and money for that ;) In all seriousness though, staying home has been the greatest blessing to our family. I consider myself extremely lucky that Lucas and I were able to work out this arrangement.
Speaking of Lucas, I am so proud of him. He is an excellent father, an honor student (each and every semester!), and a valued employee (his bosses love him). I sometimes sit back and am amazed I landed such a wonderful husband. He takes time to make sure I feel appreciated and noticed. He always takes care of me when I forget to do so myself. He helps with McCartney when he can tell that we've had a "day". I'm so grateful for him and the wonderful man he is. I know always gush about him, but man, how could I not?!
Well, that is my sum-up of being a Stay at Home Mom. There's much more to it than what I've written of course, but my post is just mainly the big things that have stood out to me so far.
I'm happy to say I have another post pending!! I'm not sure when I'll post it, but probably before March :)
Thank you again for reading, your views always mean so much to me!
-Allison S. Dahl
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