Life is Like

LIFE IS LIKE…DEM THAR CLOSED DOORS

This bloggage (as I like to call my postings) is mainly about Joe and I so, if your sick of reading about us, you probably wanna stop now. -Katy

The following 'bloggage' is the sole responsibility of my wife. I had no input, accept a comma or two. And those were unsolicited. What can I say? For some reason she loves me. And I her. -Joe

There is old song, sung by Charlie Rich, “Behind Closed Doors”.  A song about love, ok, maybe just sex, definitely sex, definitely.  But is a song of true life long lasting love?

You may be wondering where the hell I’m going to go with this but it’s a follow up on Joe’s mental health blog.

Unfortunately life is very different behind the closed doors at the house on Herman Hill.

In 2008 I was diagnosed with Bi-Polar II.  Believe me the last thing I wanted to add, to my already too long mental illnesses, was another one.

In my case, my Bi-Polar II has more lows than ‘highs’.  

Some people experience very high highs and at times I wish I did.  At least the house would be clean! My lows are added to my major depression which doesn’t make a great combination, believe me.

A lot of people may find it hard to believe I am depressed.  I put on a good front, until I get behind our closed door.

I don’t know what I ever did to deserve Joe (but I’m not complaining), a lesser man would have packed his bags a long time ago.  Perhaps the cost of filing for divorce costs too much but whatever the case, I know that what we have is special.  And Joe is a very special person (I don’t mean short-bus special either).

When all my meds are working as they should be life is great in the Schutte house.  Unfortunately I’m (actually we) are going through a time when the meds are not working to their fullest.  Not by a long shot.

Even before my lay-off (January 1^st) my depression wasn’t completely under control.  But since then it has gotten much worse, much worse.  Said lay-off is scheduled for 6 months, but with things the way they are these days who knows if my job will be available then.

That’s not what I’m worried about. I know that the Lord will take care of us and will bring something better.  I love my job in Alberta and would love to go back July 1^st.  But as I said, who knows if it will be available.

As it stands now

I’ve isolated myself from all family and friends.  My only scheduled outing is on Saturday to visit and clean at my Mom’s.  Joe does his best trying to get me into the great outdoors, even if it’s just for a ride.  So far this year he hasn’t had a good track record.

I’ve always been great at hiding how I really feel when in public.  In fact the first time I a spent a week long ‘vacation’ in the luxurious Marquette General Stress and Depression Unit more than just a few people thought I was actually a nurse (they obviously wear normal clothes)!  To say that I was a total mess in my head would be the understatement of the decade. 

But behind the closed door of my ‘suite’ (I’m sure you get the sarcasm by now) my depression had me in a very tight choke-hold.  Thankfully I received great care, especially from my Doctor who fixed me up with the right combination of medications to put me back on the right track.

If you see me in public (which, as I said earlier doesn’t happen much now) I still have a smile on my face and look like I don’t have a care in the world.

But behind those closed doors Joe sees how I’m really feeling and believe me it ain’t pretty!

Isolating myself is just one, in the long list, of severe depression symptoms. 

Joe gets the brunt of it. I wish he didn’t but it’s not like I can control it.  I could blame it on the medication not working, or it not being the proper combination. Either way, life at the moment is what it is, and it doesn’t really matter what I blame it on.

Joe is, and has always been, steadfast by my side 150% actually. No matter if I’m at my lowest or feeling great.  I am truly blessed.  And I’m not sucking up to him because I want something, either (but I should get a few extra brownie points).

When I say my prayers, the very first thing I do is thank the good Lord for bringing (and keeping) Joe in my life.  He is the biggest blessing I have. Even if I won the lotto.  Even if I won the biggest payout ever.  Ah, maybe that’s what he’s waiting for, after all he would get 50% of it. I like to think that isn’t the case we’ll have to wait and see, guess.

Told ya so!

See, I told you this was going to be more about us than you probably wanna read!

I guess in short (some 944 words later) the bottom line is: I know that he will always be the branch I’m holding onto.  Remember the cat hanging on just by it’s paws. You know, the ‘Hang In There’ poster.  He’s always been my branch when I need him to be.  Even if I’m just hanging on by a claw or two.  Between him, and Jesus carrying me when I can’t walk on my own, I’m not only blessed beyond words but an extremely lucky woman.  I hope you are too. (Feel free to change woman to man when reading this, if that is more appropriate).

Katy Manning Schutte

Blah, blah, blah

Bipolar II - Outed by Catherine Zeta-Jones

First, let me say I am not ungrateful. Nor do I hold any animosity toward Oscar-winning actress Catherine Zeta-Jones. As a matter of fact, I applaud her for allowing her battle with Bipolar II to be made public.

Shortly after Ms. Zeta-Jones announced her battle, ex-Disney child star Demi Lovato (Sonny with a Chance) recalled her three month stay in a residential treatment center, where, during treatment, she discovered some of her past actions could be directly related to being bipolar. She has spoken openly about it in an upcoming People magazine interview.

So, what is that annoys me? Simple. That it takes Catherine Zeta-Jones and Demi Lovato to suffer from the disease, in order for it to be discussed openly. Hopefully bringing about education and understanding of the disease for those that don’t understand it. As well as for those who are living with it.

I have said this before and I will say it again, “Mental illness is the bastard child of healthcare”.

But she’s not famous.
My wife is one of those unsung sufferers of mental illness. The psychiatrist, who treated her after her first visit to the Marquette General Behavioral Health Adult Psychiatric Unit in 1998, discussed with us that Katy suffered from a condition being bandied about at the time as 'Bipolar II'.

She explained that the concept of the long-held standard of the bipolar diagnosis was sort of heavy-handed. That there was a growing school of psychiatrists, psychologists and therapists who believed there were certain degrees of bipolar disease.

For those in the business of treating mental illness, Bipolar II represented a tier of the disease which presented itself with the ups and downs of the manic/depressive pattern, but showing more regular and shorter highs and lows than the normally accepted Bipolar disease demonstrated. It is important to remember I am not a doctor (but I play one in the bedroom) and am relaying to you the explanation of the disease as I remember it.

In denial.
Sure, everyone knows it’s out there. Mental illness, oooooohhhh scary. But no one really wants to own up to it. The people needing the most help are the ones who can’t, don’t or won’t get it. Those patients needing the new medications (broadcast ad nauseum everywhere), therapy and hospitalization are those who can’t afford it, don’t know about it or their insurance covers just enough to make it an economic hardship.

And lets be truthful, the almighty dollar, or lack thereof, is a driving force when individuals and families are making decisions on getting care, finding therapists and filling much-needed  prescriptions. The decision made oft times is, simply put, going without.

Anecdotal, but true.
Why do I know this? A better question would be, “How do I know this”. Because I’ve been there. On the front line. Supporting my wife. Who, for 20-plus years, has been battling against a foe that knows no boundaries. It’s important to remember, mental illness crosses over all the lines. Class. Economic. Age. Race. Gender.

Most importantly, mental illness doesn’t care if you have good insurance or not.

With the flood of commercials hitting the airwaves and pages of newspapers and magazines touting new medications to combat mental illness, the lion’s share of the those needing such medications and treatment never get them. Without access to good insurance, especially with a low co-pay prescription rider, it’s hard to scrape together the 250 to 400 dollars necessary for the newest anti-depressants hitting the market.

Remember, these drugs, unlike antibiotics, may be necessary for months, even years to be effective in the treatment of mental illness. Even the generic drugs can be out of reach for many sufferers, particularly if many are prescribed at the same time.

No one should suffer from mental illness, diabetes, cancer or any number of diseases, without support. No one should be left behind when they can’t afford their care. But it happens. Every day. But I digress.

Mental health needs a check-up.

Where we stand today.
Sufferers today need access to more psychiatrists. Psychiatrists who aren’t seeing a client list of several hundred patients. Doctors whose limited quality time is spent prescribing medications without the benefit of a lengthy, honest discussion with their patients about the progression of their illness.

In Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, where my wife and I live, there are but a handful of psychiatrists available to a population of approximately 300,000, spread across an area of 16,500 square miles. Most of these doctor’s are centrally located in Marquette, MI which is 72 miles east of where we live.

These mental illness practitioners must rely on the notes of therapists and psychologists who forward their observations in the hope the doctor will actually have time to pore over them before meeting the patient and prescribing said medications.

This needs to change. How? I don’t know. If we can’t fix health care as it stands today, it will be a moot point. But maybe now, with the openness of high profile personalities Catherine Zeta-Jones and Demi Lovato, a dialog of sorts will begin. But, it needs to be discussed honestly, fairly and compassionately.

As Whoopi Goldberg’s alter ego Fontaine would say, “I’ll buy your bull-shit. How much?”

Blah, blah, blah

WE'RE BACK!

Okay, Katy's back today with a new "Life is Like" column. It's the kind of message that makes one look back upon the hurts in life and wonder, "If it's healing, why do I feel this way?" It's very thought provoking.

Myself, well, that's another story. And I am working on it, and many others. I have spent too much time being introspective and not enough looking forward. It's a work in progress...my life, and my writing. Oh, and don't forget the recipes! Mmmmmm,,,

  

LIFE IS LIKE A SCAB

Everyone has had some kind of scab at least once in their life.

Perhaps it was falling off their bike, getting scratched by their loving cat, you get the picture.

Maybe you put a bandage over it and possibly some antibacterial ointment to help it heal.  Or took your chances and let it heal by itself.

Sometimes scabs happen with an ingrown hair or splinter that is so small that you didn’t even realize it was there.  It festers and you just don’t understand why. 

In those, and other cases, it doesn’t go away.  Sometimes you do have to take the scab off to find out what is causing it.   What really lies beneath causing the ugliness? 

What is it in your life that you need to rip off the scab to get to the bottom so you can heal?  It’s different from person to person, although I’m sure that many have more scabs in common with others than they would have ever guessed.

Mine are many.  Here are just a few:  mental illness, drinking, addictions, selfishness, resentment, unforgiveness…I guess that was more than just a few.  Did you see any of those in yourself?  Please don’t tell me I’m the only one in the world holding onto at least one of those!

As I am writing this many of those still have the scab on them.  Still waiting to be uncovered so the root of the problem can be dealt with.  Waiting for me to rip it off, easier said than done.  Maybe I’m not ready to deal with what lies underneath.  Or maybe I just don’t want to.

God has spoken to me by a feeling I have deep inside, He tells me to trust in Him.  Release my fears, anger and whatever else is holding me back from totally trusting in Him.  Release my “control” and let Him be in the driver’s seat (and not be the backseat driver).  

My husband would be more than happy to tell you that even if I’m sitting beside him as he drives, I’m still a backseat driver.

I probably should have added control issues to the above list, but you have already figured that out by now.

I should take my own advice and take some time to really really look deep down and think and pray about why I don’t rip that scab off.  But then there is life.  We get so caught up in day to day that some things get put on the back burner of life.  Is this the case for you?

Here again, it’s easier said than done taking the time to do it, but they don’t have to be done all at one time.  Nor do they have to be done in a certain amount of time.  Maybe you have given up, you’ve tried before and there isn’t only a scab but also scars underneath.

Think of it as a process.  Work on one scar at a time.  Take your time, there are no time limits.  Listen to what God has put in your heart.  That still strong ‘voice’.  He’ll help you through it.

Once the scab is gone take the time to put that “antibiotic” and “bandage” on it.  You’ll be raw, mentally and perhaps physically as well.  Take the time to let it heal properly before trying to go onto the next one. 

Listen to your heart. Don’t forget, He’ll be there to hold your hand, and carry you when you can’t walk.

Katy Manning Schutte