Guest Blog! Beating the Social Stigma of Borderline Personality Disorder

Welcome to the New Year.  While I'm not one of those people to make a bunch of New Year's resolutions just so I can lose all motivation in February, I am someone who likes to look back, take account of what happened and use this time to look forward.  This next year I really want to concentrate on both the physical and financial health of my family.  I want to continue to learn about myself, my health, and set goals for myself that both challenge me but are motivators in themselves.

I'm really excited to have a guest blogger here today.  +Andrea Brooks  and I went to high school together, and she was more of a friend of my brother's than mine, but we reconnected on Facebook and it's been really amazing to see her journey for health this last year.  She was recently diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) which is a disorder that I knew very little about. The first thing I thought about when I read 'personality disorder' was 'multiple personality disorder.' I was very wrong!

Opening up about mental illness, something that society still tends to stigmatize and sweep under the rug, is a very challenging experience. When I was a teenager, battling with crippling depression, I never told anyone about my depression. It wasn't until I got to college that I realized that confronting your illness is the only way to treat it.  

I am so proud of Andrea for being able to have the strength and courage to start a blog and tell people about her experienced with BPD, while doing it in a really easily readable, and funny way. Also, I give her mad props for being on the ball and posting so frequently, which is something we all know that I am currently challenged with. And here is Andrea!
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Most people have no idea what Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) really is. If you've heard of it, chances are you have heard some not-so-nice things about the people who have it.

Well folks, I am one of those people who happen to have BPD. And I am here to talk about why society should NOT be so quick to judge and label people like me.

People with BPD have a very hard time regulating their emotions. When we get mad, we become furious….even over the simplest of things. When we are sad, we get depressed, and at times suicidal. Being happy is a rare occurrence. I am often wary of happiness, because I know it will be short-lived, and the despair will soon be back. Most of the time we feel emptiness, or void of emotion. Not to be associated with being sociopathic. We most definitely feel emotions when we have them. It is really hard to explain how it feels to be “dead” inside. Rest assured that BPD sufferers aren't like this ALL of the time…..just on our bad days. Sadly, bad days can often outnumber good days. This lack of emotion is why a lot of BPD sufferers turn to self-harm or substance abuse. We get so desperate to feel SOMETHING, that even physical pain or an altered state of consciousness is welcomed.

We BPD-ers are often self-loathing individuals. Sure, everyone knows what low self-esteem is, but this is more severe than that. Can you imagine HATING yourself? For no apparent reason? Let me tell you, it sucks. Compliments from others are quickly dismissed. We often seek out abusive relationships without realizing it. In our mind, we don’t deserve happiness. Suffering is what we know best, and is almost welcomed.

How does one develop Borderline Personality Disorder? Most professionals believe that it is from abuse or neglect in childhood. Not necessarily physical or sexual (although that is often the case), but children who grew up in a house where their feelings were not validated often develop BPD. A sad child is told repeatedly “You aren’t sad, you are just being a brat….shut up.” Or when they are upset and need comfort they are turned away instead. Those children are taught that emotions are wrong, and are not shown how to properly deal with them. As we grow older, emotionally we remain children in many ways.

How is BPD treated? Just like every other disorder…..medication and therapy. Sadly, there is no BPD medication, and it can be quite difficult finding the right combination of prescriptions to help combat the BPD. Therapy like Dialectal Behavior Therapy is highly thought of to be beneficial to BPD patients, as it essentially re-teaches individuals how to handle their feelings and to regulate emotions.

Unfortunately, Borderline Personality is very VERY difficult to treat. A lot of mental health professionals do not like to work with BPD patients because of the level of difficulty, and the often defiant behavior we exhibit.

By now, you probably have some curiosity as to the life of someone with BPD. If so, you are welcome to read my blog:

Andy has BPD, The (not so) hidden side of me.

My blog is dedicated to my journey in life with Borderline Personality Disorder and my quest to manage my symptoms and have a better quality of life. I am also married with 4 children, so this undertaking is not just for me. On my bad days I strive to do it for them when I don’t care about myself.

I also like to dispel certain myths about people with BPD. Do we make good parents? Are we horrible spouses? Bad employees? What about being a friend to someone with BPD?

Please stop on by and check it out!

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Thank you Andrea!  Please stop in an read her blog! 

I feel obligated add a disclaimer that neither of us are medical professionals or are trying to diagnose or treat anything. If you feel like some of these symptoms describe issues that you are having, PLEASE talk to a professional as soon as possible.  It is scary how many years people suffer, thinking that they are alone. You aren't! 

Do you have an experience with BPD?  Do you have it? Are you willing to talk about your experiences in trying to get help in the confusing field of mental health? We would love to hear from you.  

Medical Mayhem...No More!

Warning: It's a long post! In short, I figured out the cause of my chronic hives--read and give your input on being your own medical advocate!


This year has been a roller coaster of medical issues.  Ironically most of them started after this fateful trip to my OB-Gyn to ask about a pre-conception consultation.  We had been trying for about 4 months to get pregnant and no go.  For some reason, I always thought that I would have trouble getting pregnant, but this was one time I didn't want to be proven correct. There are so many feelings tied to your fertility. I mean, in essence, evolutionarily it is what your body is created to do.  To have this ability taken out of your hands is heart breaking. By the end of the consultation, the nurse practitioner (note: for the most part, I really like this woman. She listens, she's kind and she's given me amazing referrals) told me that she thought that I had PCOS (Poly-Cystic Ovarian Syndrome), needed to lose weight (thanks, I hadn't noticed), and needed to figure out any issues I had with depression and potential ADD.  Oh where to start! I went to the doctor because I wanted to get pregnant and left with a script for birth control (it helps w/ the PCOS and mood swings), I cried.

Let's knock off the depression story first. I was diagnosed with depression when I was pretty young.  I was in middle school, and depression, puberty and a tumultuous home life didn't go well together.  At that age, I was given the magic pill of Prozac.  I don't remember much about that time, but my mother claims it saved my life. I don't doubt it, but that Prozac started a decade long journey of self doubt, shame, and endless pills.  I suck at remembering to take medicine. I put it off until the last minute (like everything else) and then I 'forget' to take the pills.  Ironically, when I had to take a pill that had an immediately effect (if I took the pill, I didn't get hives and could breathe. If I forgot, I had a horrible itchy day ahead of me), I only forgot to take it once in 4 months.  I felt self doubt because I couldn't make my mind do what I wanted and shame because depression in the 90's was still pretty taboo.  People didn't openly discuss having depression and I always felt like I was 'different' and there was something wrong with me.

In attempts to figure out why I was having weird mood swings, I hit up my local insurance covered psychiatrist.  I had found this lady for my husband because I quickly realized the man needed some help with his ADD that had stymied him from reaching his goals for years.  I saw it in him, because I saw it in me.  I have a brother and mother with ADHD. I know the face of it. What I didn't realize, was that the hormones and brain chemistry that cause one, are really closely tied to depression. Have ADD and depression? It isn't uncommon, but is frequently misdiagnosed.

I left this appointment in tears as well. This lady thought that my mood swings were bipolar disorder. WHAT?! I'm not bipolar! I get hyper, but I'm never reckless, and the more that I talked to people, the more that I thought she was full of it. After two of the worst weeks of my life attempting to take Abilify, I knew it was time to find a new doctor.  The 'mood stabilizier' she put me on made me homicidal and suicidal. I hated myself, I hated my husband, I hated my mother, I hated my situation, I hated EVERYTHING and couldn't get away from it.  I wasn't sad, I was MAD.  I stopped take the medicine and miraculously felt better.  New doctor time! This time I went with my ob-gyn's recommendation and the sky opened up, and the angels sang.  I walked into this man's office and he had a picture on his wall that looked like it was painted in my favorite place, Maine.  He confirmed it was.  He was wearing a Van Gogh (my favorite artist) tie, and he....he listened to me.  He gave me amazing advice, told me that nothing indicated that I was bipolar but instead it indicated that I need to stop take anti depressants all together to see how I was drug free, and that I probably had ADD.  Angels singing people--angel are freaking singing here.  I am not taking anti-depressants, and haven't since then and for the most part am great. I have some swings but by being off medication, I have learned what causes them and what I can do to prevent them (ironically eating is a huge issue).  It hasn't been easy, and I still get over anxious about stupid stuff, but I'm okay. I'm better than okay, and I have a psychiatrist that I trust, and enjoy seeing. We have some great conversations actually. My next step is to seek out regular cognitive therapy to teach me coping skills for my anxiety.  I'm a work in progress.

Okay, the real reason I was writing this post was because of my adventure with the PCOS diagnoses.  First, I had to get blood tests, and an ultrasound to confirm the diagnoses.  Then, I was told to find an endocrinologist to prescribe me metformin.  Metformin, whens working correctly, works by allowing your body to better process sugar. It is a diabetes medicine that is used for people who have PCOS.  It can help suffers lose weight, reduce the instance of cysts, reduce swelling and help them get pregnant. In me...not so much.

I first went to my primary care physician to get the script, since I had to wait more than a month to get in with the specialist.  I started taking the lowest dose in July, and then when I saw the endocrine a month later, she told me to start increasing my dose.  Then we had an earthquake, and a hurricane and my in-laws came to visit, and I had a sinus infection...all...in...the...same...week. I hit up the redi-med for the sinus infection, and was given some antibiotics and a steroid pack.  As soon as I finished the steroid...I broke out in hives.  EVERYWHERE.

Some of the highlights of the first few weeks of the hive adventure included:

• Not being able to walk because my hands and feet swelled up, and my feet hurt so badly that I couldn't put weight on them. I dehydrated myself on purpose because I couldn't walk to the bathroom. This lasted a couple of days.
• A visit to my primary care doctor that didn't seem concerned at all.  At this point I could barely walk and my 'polite' was turned off. I almost beat him when he told me not to swear.  He prescribed me heavy duty steroids...that didn't work at all.  He also wasn't concerned that my resting heart rate was over 100, and my chest constantly hurt. For the record--the heart rate issues were another dangerous side effect. note: *He is no longer my doctor.*
• All of this happening while my in-laws are visiting from across the country, and my parents came to meet them (not stressful at all)...
• Being told that my hives were caused by stress (umm..the hives were CAUSING the stress!)
• Taking more benedryl than I thought humanly possible. I drank an entire bottle of children's benedryl in a day.
• Serious breathing difficulties. I thought that I just had a sinus infection until the horrible wheezing was pointed out to me. This lead to....
• A visit to the ER because of the breathing difficulties
• A visit to the dermatologist 3 days later because the hives came back after the steroid the ER gave me wore off. He told me that steroids would make it worse, and gave me antihistamines that I could build up to a high dose of, and then back off a few weeks later.  They worked, but made me horribly stoned.
• My classes start and I was too stoned to remember most of the first few weeks
• Finally get an appointment with an allergist. He isn't much better at figuring this out, but puts me on a antihistamine that I can take daily, which...treats the symptom but not the cause.  He also put me on antibiotics for a month to see if we could fix the swelling in my sinuses. Stopping drinking milk reduced my headaches more than any medicine did. 

So...this goes on for months.  I have food tests, I stop eating dairy and realize that most of my sinus headaches go away.  No more wheat and milk together! All of this time I am choking down that one big ass metformin pill and occasionally attempting to up my dose.  I cancel my endocrine appointment a couple of months ago because I haven't ever been able to get up to two pills, and I'm sick of spending money at the doctors.  I decide to take the medicine increase seriously. Then, around my birthday my hands and feet start really hurting/swelling, and through the antihistamine, I get hives. We are on vacation in Williamsburg and I...am...flipping...out.  I feel like crap, and although we had some great moments on that trip, I want to go back for a re-do.

A few days go by and the swelling seems to go down again.  Then I decide to increase my dose of metformin again and the swelling/achiness comes back so I decide to look online to see if that's a side effect of the metformin.  It is. Right under...hives, breathing issues, mood swings, increased heart rate/heart palpitations (which I'd been having). My heart rate jumped as I realized that I might have figured it out, and I start typing into the mighty Google God "Metformin allergies" and quickly (first page I look at) come across the account of a woman who had a sulfa allergy(wait...I have that) and broke out into hives on metformin. She doesn't know what to do. My husband sends me a link with the chemical name for Metformin, which includes the word 'sulfa.'  They are both sulfur containing drugs, but not in the same class.  However, it seems that EITHER (the study I read didn't know conclusively) that people with sulfa allergies are either allergic to ones that have similar chemical composition (like Metformin) OR are just at a higher risk for developing allergies to other drugs. Personally, I broke out in hives with sulfa drugs when I was 6 and haven't touched it since.  I've broken out in virus hives, after being sick a couple of times since then but have never, conclusively been found allergic to anything other than sulfa.  On top of that--- More research unveils people saying that they have sulfa allergies and metformin doesn't even work for them. Wait...what? I haven't lost any weight on metformin, and it caused me to swell. I thought it was because of the antihistamines that I'd had to take for the last four months.  Because of the swelling, I'd stopped taking the metformin, cold turkey, the night before. I haven't touched it again.  The more I read, the more people I talk to, the more I look down at my hive...free...skin, I realize that I  was being poisoned for months by something I was religiously swallowing every night.

The stomachaches that increasing my dose of metformin caused had kept me from ever taking the whole dose that I was prescribed. My dislike of swallowing pills, and being able to look something up in Google saved my life. Not a single of the 3 doctors, including an allergist made the connection.  The ER barely asked me about drug allergies, and what medicines I was taking and simply gave me some MORE steroids and sent me on my way.  This has to be stopped! If there is some discernible connection between metformin allergies and sulfa allergies, people should know.  I found a few places that mentioned that there might be some cross reactivity, but only after I realized that I was allergic to the medicine.

My joints, weeks later, still ache constantly.  My feet and hands still feel puffy and swollen but nothing like they were.  I stopped the nightly antihistamines that were making me so tired that every day was a trial, 5 days ago and I haven't had a damn hive since.  I was taking claritin in the mornings but didn't today and I'm fine. I'm more than fine. I am free.  After all this, and almost a year. I am no longer on antidepressants, antihistamines, or metformin.  I'm almost completely drug free. It makes me wonder if I should have gone to the doctor to start with, and what my next step is.  As far as having a baby, we have options and this time has made me realize that every day that we don't have kids, is a day where I can learn to be a better parent.

Going forward, I will never take a medicine without through research. I never going to simply take medicine to mask symptoms without first exhaustively attempting to find the cause.  The doctors sort of just shrugged and told me that my hives were auto-immune. I knew they weren't and that I was getting worse, not better.  I wasn't going to settle for just waiting for them to 'burn out,' and I needed to figure out what was going on.  We need to research! While there are many more drugs on the market than ever before, we also have more access to researching them than ever before.  Don't just blindly accept what you are told, go and find out everything that you can about it.  A well informed patient is one that is less likely to be killed by someone else's mistake.

Have you had something similar happen to you? How are you your own advocate?

Struggle

I have really been struggling since my last post.  I was on a downswing before I went to the doctor and since she took me off of the SSRI's that I would use to get out of depressive states, I can't seem to get out of this funk.
Last week I was prescribed abilify. I could go on a rant about how I detest taking new to market drugs with no generic (only $588 dollars before insurance!), or how the side effects (increase risk of death!) scare me shitless, but really I'm fighting the whole 'if it ain't broke, don't fix it!' aspect of this diagnoses.  I know that typical depression meds work for me. I had been taking them on and off for the last decade, and it was my own negligence of remembering, or wanting to take a pill that probably led to 99% of failure that I may have had with them.  Since I know that I needed something, and I don't really like feeling like an evil witch, on edge and ready to snap at the first person to look at me, I sucked it up and got the abilify.  Abilify...how I flipping hate thee.  How can I say that after one day? I haven't slept...all flipping night.  I like, no love and treasure my sleep.  I do NOT like laying down at 10:30, being awakened around 11 by my husband's snoring, and then falling asleep, waking up, falling asleep waking up, fall....okay you get the picture, for the next 4 hours to just finally give up at 2:30 am and come downstairs to watch Glee.  I love Glee, but I'm just not a fan of 3am.  Hell..I'm not even TIRED anymore.  Let's see what other fantastic side effects that I get from a medicine that I don't think is right for me.

Thank you to everyone that wrote to me, both publicly and privately after my last post.  It still blows my mind when people call me because they read my blog, or the first thing some relative that I don't frequently talk to says is "I read your blog!"  While it is hard, feeling like I frequently have to censor myself, I do truly enjoy writing here.

I go on Tuesday to have lots of blood drawn and have a sonogram to test for PCOS.  If you haven't had one of those lovely procedures done, I'll just let it surprise you down the line. There is nothing like having to drink 30oz of water in an hour and not be allowed to pee!

This past week I have done lots of activities. It has been a struggle to go, but having people there that I know and care about helps a huge deal.  On Monday we tried out water Zumba.  I was disappointed that it wasn't a difficult work out. In fact, my water aerobics with the old people earlier in the day is usually a lot easier. I'm oscillating between not wanting to take it again, or just do two classes on Monday.  On Tuesday we had book club.  I enjoy Water for Elephants so much that I...don't want to see the movie.  I worry they will butcher a beautiful story.  On Wednesday was yoga.  We make an intention at the beginning of the class.  Mine was "to be present."  I wanted to be there, to enjoy and feel each pose and not spend the whole class wondering when it was over. I think that the rainy weather just got everyone down.  My mom showed up late Wednesday night, so yesterday we ran some errands (because nothing says 'hi mom! like a visit to Costco) and todayyyy we have a charity bingo game tonight. I'm really looking forward to 'bingo for boobies!'  I have boobies, and as it turns out, I like bingo as well (even if I'll never win anything).  As you have probably guessed, it is a charity event.

Here is to getting out of a funk! *raises water bottle*

What did you do this last week? Are you feeling down because of all this rain?

A week of medical mayhem

This past week has been a bit of an emotional roller coaster for me.  First my husband and I went to talk to my gynecologist about trying to have a baby.  The news wasn't exactly good.  She thinks I might have poly cystic ovarian syndrome which can make getting pregnant pretty difficult.  While I knew about the disorder I didn't think that I had it because I didn't have a lot of the symptoms that people with it exhibited.   I go back next week for more testing to find out exactly what is going on, but for the mean time our hopes of starting a family have been put on hold.  If that didn't break my heart my doctors appointment today did.

I've written before about my decade long struggle with depression. It is something that is always with me, sometimes feeling like it is going to swallow me whole, but sometimes seemingly to lie dormant under the surface.  The medicine that I have been taking for the last few years wasn't working. I thought that the dose just wasn't correct, so I made an appointment to see a psychiatrist.  If you have never been to a psychiatrist before, there is a lot of paperwork to fill out.  They can't draw blood to determine if you have depression, so they need to make you answer the same question 5 times in 5 different ways to determine where you are coming from.  The first sheet asked, "have you ever at any point..." followed by questions like 'increased talking and rapid speech, been excessively hyper, had difficulty concentrating, get in arguments/fights for no reason....down a list.  I started to get worried as I checked 'yes' for almost every question, except for irresponsibly spending money. I was thinking to myself that this sounds like bipolar disorder, but some of the symptoms had never been brought up and didn't seem as severe as what I thought bipolar disorder was.  Anyways, I was hoping the sheet was just a quick assessment for something like ADD until I looked at the bottom and saw that it was printed by a drug company as a bipolar disorder check list.  I sort of tried to play all of the yes's off by writing that it seemed to generally happen when I drank too much caffeine or took phentermine.  Nah, I'm fine...I just need a refill for a different anti depressant and I'll be fine.
I get in her office and we start talking and she goes through the list and makes me tell her if I've ever felt any of these without chemical assistance. I realize...I have. In fact, I've felt or experienced most of them at some point.  I started to feel my stomach drop as I knew what she was going to say next. I don't have depression.  I'm bipolar.  I am bipolar.  My eyes are starting to tear as I type this, admitting to myself, and the world that I have a disorder that I have attempted to run away from.  I was okay with have depression, hell most people seem to these days. But bipolar? Isn't that this super serious disease? Don't people do insanely stupid things like spend their life's saving and have sex with prostitutes?  Yes, some people do things like that when they are manic, she explained but bipolar isn't about how high your manic episodes are, it is simply that you have them at all.  The analogy she used is that having depression is like walking along and occasionally having the bottom fall out. Being bipolar is not only having the bottom fall, but also having holes in the ceiling.

I apparently don't have manic symptoms but instead a less severe type called hypomanic symptoms. She gave me a paper that listed some. I have some of these, but not all of them....
-You cannot stop talking often fast loud or excited (umm...yeah, that's me people--I talk too much even when a voice in my head is going "STFU!!)
-You are more active than usual, often without a purpose (I generally throw myself into doing some chores when I feel like this or jump up and down a bunch and then crash)
-You need instant gratification, attention and approval (to some extent)
-you are quickly irritable (sometimes for absolutely no reason...again, sorry hubby)
-you quickly show displeasure (sorry if I've done this to you)
-you exaggerate and overdo all behaviors (I don't think I do that...)
-You are more hostile and argumentative when you don't get what you want
-You wear brighter colors than usual (I found this fascinating, and true!)
-You spend more money and give more gifts (also totally true)
-You write more letters, make more phone calls and give more advice
-You travel more
-You don't care so much about the rights and feelings of others
-You enjoy taking more risks

Another thing I learned is that things like my fear of going new places, knocking on my neighbors door to meet them, doing things by myself isn't normal either. I apparently also have social anxiety disorder. I think my social anxiety and crippling, at times, fear of judgement and rejection has offset some of the ruder qualities of the bipolar disorder so basically I'm not a complete asshole to strangers (only the people I love...sorry guys).  I think of the trip that I took to Spain in college and how much I regretted not doing more on my own, and now I understand why I kept putting it off, and why I would rather stay home and stay in places that I had been and was comfortable with.  I understand why, while I suck at routines (apparently having bipolar disorder can make having routines difficult because you never know how you are going to feel at any given time) I need things MY way so that I can feel in control of the situation and not get anxious.

How does it feel to realize that you've been misdiagnosed for the last decade? Pretty shitty actually. The horrible part of it is that I am in the vast majority of people that are diagnosed. Most people go a DECADE before they are diagnosed.  One of the reasons that people aren't diagnosed more is that people don't go to the doctor when the feel good--they go because they are depressed. They don't tell their doctor about the side effects above.  One of the reasons I was so terrified of being diagnosed as bipolar was that the medicine, while better now than it was even a decade ago, is pretty heavy hitting.  Anti psychotics and mood stabilizers have a lot more side effects than Prozac.  My doctor wrote me a prescription for a mood stabilizer, a very low dose.  She wants to see me again in two weeks.  I will try it and see if it helps, or harms. I hate playing the Russian roulette of medicine, but at least I have learned in the last couple of years that I can live without medicine.  I'm also going to find a therapist. I've realized that I have learned quite a few good coping mechanisms, and maybe in time I can learn to live without medication.  Knowing I'm bipolar will also help if, when we do have kids, I have post partum depression.

I don't know completely how I feel about this so far. While a lot of the symptoms describe me, having this label doesn't define me and frankly I thought a lot of those things up there were 'normal' before now.  A couple of weeks ago I was watching glee and someone said "your illness is not who you are supposed to be. It is keeping you from who you are supposed to be."  Depression, bipolar, social anxiety disorder aren't ME.  They are a part of who I am, but knowing more about them is going to be how I can LIVE with them and be who I've always wanted to be.   I have dealt with so much in the last 8 years. I have dealt with so much--successfully and I think, no I know I can deal with this.  I have to wonder how this diagnoses would have helped me as as teenager though, or if having to live through it and learn from my mistakes has made me better equipped to deal with this disease.

Please note: I am not a doctor or a therapist and the opinions and thoughts in this blog are mine.  If you think you have bipolar disorder or any mental illness, please please please get professional help.  

I drove home, stopped by the mail and drove up to my house.  What I saw there both infuriated and scared me to my core.  It was Henry, our strictly inside cat sitting on our front porch, our door open.  Where the hell is my husband? Is he lying inside hurt? My mind immediately flickered to the creepy scam artist that tried to con me into buying magazines yesterday. Did the guy come back? What I did next came as instinct--I didn't even think about it. I pushed down the horn for a good five seconds.  Henry jumped 3 feet in the air, and ran inside, followed closely by my cat, who was hiding behind the neighbors bushes.  My cat has NEVER been outside.  The only time I tried to take him anywhere outside of our porch was a misguided attempt at teaching him to walk on a leash.  He crawled up me and lay in a trembling mass in my arms until I went back in.   I slammed my car into park, grabbed my bag and ran inside yelling for my husband.  Thankfully he was alive, although after I yelled at him, he might have rethought that. He came in, grabbing our recycling bin on the way and somehow forgot to latch the door.  Our cats had been asleep on the couch when he came in, but at some point got up to investigate, and seeing an open door meandered out.  We've been letting them out on the back porch, which is two stories up and they can't get off of, because the weather is nice but after this little 'adventure' I'm rethinking how wise it is to allow their fear of the outdoors to diminish in any way.

Tomorrow is our housewarming party.  I know that even if only a few people turn up, I am in a place of love surrounded with friends and the best husband ever.  I don't think I could ask for anything more than that, although I wouldn't mind some sunshine.

depression and new hulu discovery

Depression is a disease. A heart wrenching disease that can eat you from your soul out.  Today someone very close to me, once again, has been admitted to a mental hospital to deal with their depression.  I live by taking medicine, but what happens when your mind constantly plays tricks on you, and medicine doesn’t work? How do you live with that constantly, daily? It is with me always in the back of my mind, that fear that medicine won’t work, and that medicine that helps me live, helps me survive. I realized after college that I didn’t plan for the future, didn’t have goals because I didn’t think that I would live long enough to achieve them.  This is what depression did to me, and I hate that I can’t help, or change anything.  I hope to write more about this topic in the future, but I don't want to betray anyone's privacy in doing so, so please excuse any cryptic writing. I needed to vent bit on the topic though.

On another note,  I am supposed to go out to WV to visit friend’s on Wednesday, but we still aren’t sure of the stupid weather.  I don’t mind driving with a couple of inches of snow, but it could get a lot worse than that in the mountains, which worries me. I start my yoga class on Wednesday which is exciting. I've never taken a 'real' yoga class, but I've had some books in the past, and done it on my wii. I have always been pretty flexible, and been told that I'd be good at yoga. I am a little worried, since I haven't been able to exercise since I've had surgery but I'm sure I'll get back into the groove of things quickly.

I found another show on hulu that seems to have addictive qualities called ‘The Cape.’  The premise of the show is very Batmanesque,  with a one man crusade to better a fictional town (Palm City)after being wrongly accused of being a super villain.  After being taken in by a criminal carnival (oh yeah!) he hones his skills .  It is designed after a comic book that the main character had read to his son.  He picked the cape because he wants to send a message to his son that he is innocent.  So far there are two episodes for free on hulu--check it out, and tell me what you think.

I have a line on a potential guest blogger, so I hope to have that up soon!