One of the things, that I have done, to try to help myself, is engaging in minimal television watching.  Television is filled with violence, trauma, and  tragedy.  I find that watching television brings back bad memories, and triggers flashbacks, negative thoughts, paranoia, which leads to depression in me.
     I do my best, to stick to watching comedies and educational programs, but every once in awhile, I will stray and watch something which, invariably shakes me up.  It could be a relatively benign show, even, like a talk show, but once abuse is mentioned, I find myself visiting my childhood again.
     This morning I watched "The Steve Wilkos Show", and they were discussing a boy who had been abused.  It was said, that his mother tried to drown him, in the bathtub when he was an infant.  It instantly brought back memories of my father deliberately holding my head under the faucet when I was a toddler, and not being able to breathe.  This memory invaded my life less than a year ago, when I started experiencing this particular flashback.
      I went on to watch "Dr. Phil", which was about a teenage girl who was beaten by her mother, and it reminded me of how my father used to hit me with a paddle before he sexually abused me.
      As I surfed through the channels, it became apparent, that television is sort of geared towards shaking people to the core.  Just think about the News programs on television.  It's all about human devastation, and very little good news is  ever reported.
      So I decided to watch some of "Ferris Bueller's Day Off", and that was a smart choice, compared to my other television choices, today.  It is a delightful comedy.
      Like most days though, the stereo is now playing.  I love to listen to music, especially as I write.  As I write this blog, I am, in fact, listening to Jimi Hendrix.

     On Tuesday, I was having a hard time talking and breathing, so I called my boss at work, and told him that I was coming down with an infection or virus, and asked him if he could get another person to cover my shift on Wednesday.  He told me to stay home from work on Wednesday.
     Tuesday night, I had a rough time breathing and sleeping, but after a second dose of Nyquil, I slept until 1 PM, on Wednesday.  I was coughing, sneezing, and had a runny nose, but I have had the influenza vaccine, so I think, that it is just a terrible cold, aggravating my asthma.
      Today, which is Thursday, I woke up feeling better, my nose is still running and I am still coughing, I still sound awful, but overall, I don't feel as sick.  I did get irritated at my husband this morning because he kept interrupting me when I was using the bathroom, and I concluded that my lack of patience was due to the fact that I was sick.  But still, I went to work.
       It wasn't a total mistake, I got a lot of work done but I had some frightening moments.  You see, when my body is sick, my mind gets sick, usually.
     I was working, pulling all of the out of code (expired), packages off of the shelves, in the supermarket, where I work, and organizing those shelves to look nice, when I heard a screeching guitar playing.  At first I wondered if it was the saw being used, in the meat department, so I looked and realized that it was not the saw.  It sounded like very strange music, the kind that I hear when I hallucinate.  I panicked for a few minutes.  I felt my tears welling up, in my eyes.  I was hallucinating at work.  I knew then that I was sicker than I thought.  I sat down and my inner voice told me to calm down, not to worry, that the sounds would go away.  And they did.
     But later on,I kept hearing my name being called.  It sounded like someone was standing very close to me saying "Christine", over and over.  And there was no one there, and it wasn't the intercom system.  Thank God, that went away too, after a few minutes of relaxing and talking to myself, internally.
     Hallucinating scares me more than depression.  It is scary because you know that your mind is playing tricks on you.  It is very startling, and makes you feel out of control.  I am fortunate, in that the sounds and voices, in my mind do not tell me what to do, rather I hear strange music and people calling my name.
    I am very proud of myself, however, because I worked through my whole shift without breaking down or leaving early to go home, which I have done in the past.  I'm happy that over time, I am coping better.

     So far, I have written 52 blog posts.  Can you believe it?  I know I can't.  LOL!
     In case you wonder what I look like, I am Caucasian, of Irish & English descent.  I have brown eyes, and graying, yet also dark brown hair (I color it).  I stand 5 feet, 5 inches tall and weigh 230 pounds (I gained 90 pounds, thanks to antipsychotic medication).  People have said that I am "beautiful" and "cute", though I see myself as average.  I am 45 years old, and have entered menopause.
      My "normal"  personality is quiet, sweet, kind, intelligent, artistic, compassionate, patient, funny, and passionate.  When I am depressed, however, I cry a lot, I worry a lot, I fear the world.  I have a fiery streak, if you hurt me deeply, also.  In other words, if you hurt me, you'll hear about it, I'll probably end up using a lot of curse words. LOL!
      I spent some of my childhood in a nice community, and the later half of my childhood, in a poor, high crime city.  I went to vocational school,  in high school, where I studied agriculture.  It was a great atmosphere for me, I wasn't bullied like I was in public school.  Even as a child and teen, I went through depression.  My grades went up and down, like a yo-yo.
      I attempted college, at a very prestigious university, but I was also working full-time to pay for school, and was overwhelmed because I had no free time.  I was extremely depressed and my grades were only average and below average.  I later took classes at an Ivy League university's night school, and did really well, because I wasn't depressed.  It's highly possible that I will go back to college someday.
      I have had jobs working with animals, working in laboratories, working in the Biotechnology field, working in offices, working in supermarkets.  I currently work in a supermarket, and do volunteer work in the office at my church.
      I have been married for 19 years. He is an awesome, wonderful, amazing husband. We do not have any children. We have one deaf cat.  I am also, my wonderful mother's only child. I do not have much family on my father's side.  I do not see my father because he abused me.
      My favorite thing to do is listen to music, usually Rock & Roll, some Rap.  I also like to spend time with my family & friends, paint, read, cook, bake, and write this blog.  
     It is my goal, in life to let other people with mental illness know, that they are not alone, and to also let others know that people with mental illness have feelings, hopes and dreams, like "normal" people.
     I hope that you will share my blog with your trusted family and friends, so that I may fulfill my dream of getting my blog out into the world.  So, please read, like & share!  Thank you!

     I saw my therapist on Tuesday.  She told me that she "didn't need to worry" about me at this point, that I was doing pretty well.  Yes, I have a lot of times where I feel down, but things are on the upswing, currently.  It has been a difficult road, but I have managed to keep moving, forward.
     I think that I am able to keep going on, because of several factors.  I have a good amount of emotional support around me from doctors, therapists, family and friends.  I am learning to steer the direction of my own life, by doing things like working where I want to work, doing volunteer work, attending a center for adults with Mental Illness, creating this blog, and doing things that please me.  I am starting to ponder going back to college or taking an art class.
      My therapist also told me that considering that I have a serious mental illness, I do remarkably well in life.  I think that I am starting to believe her.

     I had a nightmare last night.  I dreamed that I was visiting some new friends.  It started off as a nice visit, we were laughing and talking.  They lived in a very big house.  For some reason, I opened a door and entered a room.  I was appalled at what I saw.  There were 2 naked little girls tied up, on the floor and a man who had been molesting them.  I began to yell and scream at the child molester.  Then I woke up.
    All through this morning, I kept getting flashes of the memories of this dream. I would do my work and see those poor little girls in my mind.  After 3 hours of that I began to feel overwhelmed.  My eyes started to tear up.  Nobody knew, thank God. I hate to cry at work.
     I was relieved when my boss said that he wanted to save hours, so I could go home, if I wanted.  We're having a blizzard today, so there were only occasional customers in our supermarket.  So, I chose to go home.  It's a good day to be at home.  I can think, in peace, I feel safest at home.
     This nightmare was a sign that after over 40 years, since my father abused me, I am still not healed.  I wonder:  will I always have PTSD?

     The past few days have been good, though I have done a lot of sleeping, much more than usual.  I don't think the sleeping is "curing" me, but rather, is the symptom of my tired soul.
      Today, I went to a center, affiliated with NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness), that I have been going to for a few months.  I find it really enjoyable and helpful, going there.  They have support groups, and other groups like poetry & creative writing, art, knitting, yoga, dual recovery, etc.  Today in creative writing, we were asked to write about how mental illness affected us.
       I have been battling depression and anxiety since I was a young child. I was moody and emotional. It made learning difficult. I am smart, but my grades went up and down. I did not have many friends, and I was bullied.  My pedophile father, called me  "horrible" and accused me, quite often, in a nasty tone of "trying to be different".  I was a scared child, often very sad inside.
       When I approached my twenties, PTSD really hit me hard, with flashbacks and recurring intrusive memories from the abuse of my father.  And depression got worse. I lost jobs and fell into bad relationships. When I was 24, after losing my baby by miscarriage, from being beaten by my "lover", and continual abuse, I called my father and told him "that he had ruined my life and that I was going to kill myself".  My father said: "Go ahead.  Do what you want".  And I, thankfully, have survived a near fatal suicide attempt, that night.
         In my late twenties, I developed psychosis during periods of deep depression, in forms of audio hallucinations, paranoia and delusions.  I would hear my name being called a lot, I would hear strange music. I would fear that someone would try to kill me, or even believe that I was feeling the presence of the devil.  All of these things are very scary to me, I'll feel that my mind is betraying me, by playing tricks on me.  I'll feel out of control when this happens.
         Having Schizoaffective Disorder and PTSD mean that I have been taking numerous medications and been in therapy for over 26 years, with at least 7 hospital stays, and 4 partial hospital programs. I also spent a year doing electro-convulsive therapy (shock treatments).  I have suffered a lot.  And what makes it really hard is that a lot of people are not understanding about mental illness.
        As I am growing older...I am now middle aged...life is getting better.  My doctor has worked really hard with me to find the right medications.  I've been working with my therapist for about 15 years and it is paying off.  I'm able to feel happiness now, I'm feeling more alive, I'm learning about myself, having more faith in myself, and I am making progress, I even have my own blog!  And I am so thankful to the people in my life who have stood by me, and helped me to believe in myself.  I am also thankful to God, for hearing my prayers and the prayers of those who prayed for me.

     Yesterday, I worked, a 7 hour day. That's a long day for me. My supermarket job is very physical, lots of lifting, and I think that at 45 years of age, I am getting too old to work 7 hour days, doing that type of job, because my body really hurt, long before the end of the day. I noticed it the most in my hips, where I have arthritis. But, I'll try it again if they ask me to, after all, yesterday was a very busy day for me, at work.

 Today, I am feeling pretty good. I'm listening to some of my favorite music, Jimi Hendrix, and Justin Timberlake, and we did some housecleaning. My husband & I are planning a trip into Boston today. It's 41 degrees Fahrenheit out there, a good temperature for this time of year in New England, good walking weather. I just hope that the city is not too crowded, as that can be very overwhelming for me.

 I have started to attend a peer run center for adults with Mental Illness. By going there, I'm meeting new people, and attending support groups, and other groups like creative writing, art, knitting, yoga, etc. But I hated yoga, lol. They also do a lot of advocacy, for people with Mental Illness, and are affiliated with NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness), which is a wonderful organization. I feel that by going there, I am really helping myself. I always look forward to going to the center

. I am doing more volunteer work at my church. There was a fire there recently, in which I was present, so I have been playing receptionist a few hours a week to help the office manager. I don't mind, but my weeks are getting full, and I'm not sure how I feel about that. I need more down time where I can sit around in my pajamas all day. But they stress that people with Depression should stay busy and active to help keep their minds off of the Hell. I just need to find a happy medium. I need to find time to bake cookies soon, lol.