depression

My Story Chapter 3: The House of Cards

Posted on by fearnothing321

Ok where were we? Ah, yes my test results.

One other quick note that I would like to add, is I have always struggled with the idea of mortality. Yes, I know we all won’t make it out of this alive and it’s best to enjoy the ride now and not have any regrets later. This struggle can be linked to the need to have multiple surges and having to go under anesthesia multiple times. There has been research completed that has linked some level of PTSD with surgical needs. The reason why I’m bringing this up is I also have a rare genetic bone mutation (Hereditary Multiple Exostoses) , where my body produces benign bony tumors/spurs through out my skeletal structure. These aren’t like Cadet Bone Spurs claims to have, these are actual tumors. Luckily my case is mild, but I’ve had to have a few surgeries to remove some spurs that were either limiting joint movement or causing growth defects. Now with the last surgery that I had in 2015, I recovered physically very well, but mentally it was a struggle. The idea of a meaningless death was always passing though my thoughts.

Let’s get back to our current timeline. March of 2019 I started revisiting my demons of the past, mainly the idea surrounding my past attempt at suicide. Now this wasn’t an idea that I need to follow through with it this time; it was more or so was my previous attempt to free me from a life of pain and struggle. One more tidbit that I would like to bring up about myself is that I developed over time an issue with alcohol. With my metabolism I would usually need to drink quite a bit and fast to maintain any kind of buzz. I would also drink frequently to try and destress, usually to no avail. Also as pointed out by a friend, I’m the kind of person who is able to hide how drunk they are physically. What I’m getting at here is when I would be in the right mindset I would drink too much and would make bad decisions. Yes I have in the past I’ve had one to many to drink and drove home.

One other topic I would like to discuss before we get back to our main story line is intrusive thoughts. Here is a definition of intrusive thoughts:

“Intrusive thoughts are thoughts that seem to become stuck in the mind. They can cause distress, as the nature of the thought may be upsetting. They may also reoccur frequently, which can make the concern worse.

Intrusive thoughts may be violent or disturbing. They may be thoughts of a sexual nature, including fantasies. They can also be thoughts about behaviors you find unacceptable and abhorrent. 

These thoughts, however, are just thoughts. They seemingly appear out of nowhere, cause anxiety, but have no meaning in your life. They’re not warning messages or red flags. They’re simply thoughts.

What gives them power is that people who experience them become worried about their significance. They may fixate on them and become ashamed, intent on keeping them secret from others.

As long as you recognize that these are thoughts only and have no desire to act on them, intrusive thoughts aren’t harmful.“*

During this stretch of time these thoughts were racing though my mind constantly. Once again I became enthralled with the idea of mortality and death. These thoughts damn near paralyzed me when I was by myself. Now I want you all to know my life was never in danger during these times. I had developed a kind of a sub-conscious defense mechanism towards, which was basically being afraid of dying.

Now for my birthday that year I decided to spend it with my family up north. I flew up to Maine to spend a few days with family and to get away from my job, my stressors, and to try and find some peace within myself. When I was in Maine, life slowed down for the first time in years. I felt the crunch of the snow beneath my boots, I heard the slight taps of the snow gently hitting the window, I saw the beauty in nature, my soul was at peace.

Harrison, Maine

I now know what it Henry David Thoreau felt when writing Walden. I have always in some related to the works of Transcendentalism by Thoreau and Emerson. In my eyes we are all children of the Earth and each one of us are in control of our own destiny, not some outside force and I wholeheartedly believe the power of individualism.

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Music has always been apart of me whether it was playing in band in middle, high school, or college, from the latest new releases to my very eclectic tastes in genres. The album pictured above, Bon Iver’s For Emma, Forever Ago has been an album that always spoke to my soul. In another post I’ll be visit the idea on how crucial music has been to my mental health.

Overall April was shaping up to be a really good month, I found peace for the first time in a long time, I bought one of my dream cars, and I felt as if I was hitting all the right strides. But this surely would last, right?

May comes in like a lion (anime reference). I start dating a new girl who on the surface seemed really cool. She like the same sports as I do, she like the same music, and she wasn’t judgmental (or at least appeared to be). One quick piece of important information is that USF and Tampa General Hospital are apart of the MyChart app where you are able to communicate with your doctors, get test results, and notifications of upcoming appointments. It was around the middle of May when I received a notification to my phone notifying me of an upcoming appointment with the CF clinic. My last communication with them was back in February when they told me they would call me with the results of my genetic panel when they received my test results back. This seemed really odd to me as I never received that call but I suddenly had a follow up appointment. So in the morning I called the office to inquire as to why I had the appointment scheduled. The receptionist told me that I had been added as a patient to the CF clinic. I asked her to set a call with the doctor so I can go over my results.

Fuck

As the title suggests my house of cards collapsed. I finally got the call I was dreading when I was at work of all places. I stepped aside for a few minutes to hear what the doctor had to say. Inside I was dying from the realization of what my new normal would be and the challenges I may face down the road, however I couldn’t show that here, needed to keep a proverbial mask on to hide behind. Needed to be that cheery individual, while knowing full well I was figuratively dying on the inside.

Fuck

I just turned 30 how could this be happening. My world was crumbling beneath my feet. The stress from this and my job was causing me at this point in time to throw up between 2 and 3 times per day, I wasn’t eating as much as I normally do, I was breaking down and I hadn’t hit rock bottom yet. Most of the individuals who are diagnosed with CF unfortunately loose their life by their mid-30s due to medical complications as our lungs fill with a thick mucus which makes it difficult to breathe. Now I’m used to the idea that medical complications may end my life short. The bone disease that I also have opens me up to the possibility of osteosarcoma (bone cancer) as I already have the bony tumors, but they can turn cancerous. But this was entirely different.

Fuck

Do I really only have a few more years to live? Is this it? Is this how it going to end for me? These are the thoughts and more dominated my mind for the next two months, until I was able to get a hold of my doctor again. I suffered my worst mental breakdown in the month of June. I didn’t want to do anything, I was barely sleeping, eating, taking care of myself, and just existing.

Ding, this is your Capitan speaking please we’ve lost all cabin pressure, please prepare for a crash landing.

Luckily on my next conversation with my medical team I was told my case is considered mild/light and it will not end life early. Slight sigh of relief, but the damage remains.

Now I attribute my ex-girlfriend with providing me with a few good things. She got me to stop drinking.

Now that I’m not drinking, my mind was looking for new sources of endorphins, enter my self destructive and self sacrificing nature. I saw my then girlfriend as someone who I could “save.” She had her own issues and I felt that I was the one who could build her up so she could see her own potential. While completely ignoring everything that I needed.

Reaching out for help

It was around July that I felt my grasp on everything starting to slip. I made a post on the Cystic Fibrosis subreddit on how does everyone do it all. Now during this time my body was literally tell me to slow down. I would get these crazy stress headaches and the vomiting continued and I was loosing a tremendous amount of weight (I lost 20 pounds in just a couple of weeks from barely eating). Looking back at it all I know I should have listened to my body, ended the relationship as it was completely one sided and listened to the advice of my peers and put CF before EVERYTHING. But I am me and I’m pigheaded and very persistent.

The path that I chose to walk was the one of total self annihilation, I hit rock bottom and continued on a downward spiral til I was barely recognizable to the person I used to be. I never really got to thank my old coworkers who obviously noticed something wasn’t quite right with me during this time and I would reluctantly make a quip as to I’m ok and what is normal. Thank you. I wasn’t ok during this time, I was barely myself and I was hiding behind a mask because I couldn’t bear the person who I had become.

It was around the end of October when I started to pull the wool away from my eyes. I received a tremendous offer to be a second photographer for a local event that was being covered by a local professional photographer in the St. Pete area. Instead of being met with praise and congratulations, I was met with “umm you need to drive me (ex-girlfriend) around.” To which I correctly responded, I need to make money so I’m taking this job so you are an adult you can drive yourself. Also during this month I found another bug/glitch within myself (some call those feature, looking at you EA), hypomania. Now during most of the month of October I had been trying to help my ex-girlfriend clean her apartment due to her hoarding nature and complete lack of self-motivation. Durning the last week of October my mind was moving a million miles per minute. I would have to try and force myself to sleep. Even 6 higher strength CBD gummies plus melatonin would fail put a dent in my over active mind. Being up for 26 hours straight with no real release was scary.

Right before the end of the year I had my last quarterly check up with my CF team. They told me that they wanted to get me on the new wonder CF medication as it will help prevent me from getting lung infections and will help with getting the crud out of my lungs. What may seem like a small step in the whole grand scheme of things was another reality crushing step for me. This made it truly real, I really do have a chronic disease that I now have to manage.

For me 2020 started out as journey of self discovery and betterment. After one too many lies I finally listened to myself and saw what everyone else saw. I finally broke off the relationship I was in, I made the tough decision to leave the job I was at for the past 4 years, and decided it was time to work for myself.

That was a doozy. Like I said before I think everything happens for a reason, my former marriage unknowingly answered medical questions that I didn’t even realize that I had, my relationship with my ex-girlfriend helped me discover what rock bottom really felt like and to really understand what I need to get back to that moment of peace I so desperately needed. I’m getting closer to finding the place of peace within myself everyday and this time of self-reflecting has been a beacon of light that has ignited a new sense of purpose within me.

I know this post was a little longer than the last two, but I didn’t want to split this part of the story up. My next post will be about looking forward, appreciating the past.

My Story Chapter 2: Into the Void

Posted on by fearnothing321

Alright let’s pick up from where we ended at the last post. My relationship was looking like it might not be the best, and I am unequivocally afraid of disappointing my parents.

So about about a 3 year time skip, (roughly 4 years into my relationship my ex-wife/partner), her father is diagnosed with advanced lung cancer and has about 6 months to 1 year to live. So as you can imagine this put us all in a reality we did not want to live. Now during this time I did become close with my ex’s father and I did feel some level of duty to make sure his family was taken care of in the event of his passing, which would unfortunately happen a short 6 months after his initial diagnosis. It was during one of his later stints in the ICU that I would ask him if I could marry his daughter, to which I received an emphatic “yes.” I figured maybe this “shot” of good news/happiness would somehow spur on some kind of hope that he would live a little longer. As usual this falls in to a case of me wanting to try and fix something that likely I would never be able to “fix” as I felt the world around starting to crumble.

It’s worth noting one other aspect of my personality at this point in time. I someone who could be described at times as self-sacrificing to a fault. I will give myself for the benefit of others while neglecting my own needs at time, mostly my mental health.

Alright, let’s get back to the story at hand. Regarding the engagement with my ex-wife/partner, this was another one of those perceived life event that I felt I had to do or else there would be some level of disappoint likely to happen. Now regarding this event when my ex-wife and I mutually agreed separation/divorce was the best thing for us, we both sheltered the blame for not listening to ourselves and our own hesitations. It was all likely due to matter of life situations all happening at once, the loss of her father, my rampant mental health issues that I was neglecting, and just wanting to follow in others expectations of us.

During our 5ish years of marriage everything wasn’t all happy and rainbows, we would have fights over the stupidest of things and would rush to do things in order “fix” our problems. What appeared on the outside a happy go lucky couple, in reality wasn’t much of that at times. Roughly 18 months before we would decide to separate we decided we were going to start a family. What better way to fix a marriage that was falling apart, than to through kids into the mix. This singular decision ultimately led to one of my greatest mental breakdown roughly two years later.

It was around this time when I finally decided it was time to seek professional help to deal with my issues with depression, anxiety, and other facets of myself. This would go on to be one of the best decisions I would make.

After a year or so of trying to get pregnant with non actual luck, at the recommendation of one of my ex-wife/partner’s friends we saw a fertility doctor. My ex was the first one to get test to make sure everything was a-ok. And as expected she was as healthy as a horse. Now it was my turn. So I schedule a test to provide a sample of my bisquick, to see what my swimmers were doing. After we got the results back it was a fat zero, zip, nada in my sample. So the doctor wanted me to re-do the test to make sure nothing went wrong in the first one and low and behold the same exact result: zip, zero, nada in my sample. Apparently I only shoot blanks.

After consulting with the doctor on the result of my test it would either boil down to two reasons: something hormonal or Cystic Fibrosis. Now I was pretty confident I didn’t have any issues with testosterone due to certain anatomy and my ability to maintain muscle. Also for background info I have always had issues with sweating, slight digestive discomfort with fattier foods, had terrible ear infection as an infant, I never really gained much weight even though I could eat like a dump truck, and my lungs could never truly support the physical activities I liked doing (cycling, playing my trumpet/marching band, hiking, etc…).

After the first round of blood work my hormones were indeed okay as my body produces the necessary stuff to make sperm. However on the first genetic test I received, I did get a answer I was not wanting to see. I tested positive for the Delta 508 gene for cystic fibrosis. I want to interject real quick, there are multiple levels of cystic fibrosis, you can be a carrier with one genetic mutation, you can have two mutation and be asymptomatic (and in males it typically just infertility related), you can have a mild case, or you can have a regular case. So after I received my first positive test for the cystic fibrosis gene, my fertility doctor scheduled me an appointment with a urologist to make sure there were no other reasons as to why I’m infertile. After getting a ultrasound complete, which showed everything downstairs was normal, we did a simple evaluation. Upon completion of the evaluation it was discovered that I didn’t not have a vas deferens (the tube that connects all the wedding tackle together). Yep, I have a factory installed vasectomy.

This was a shot to my psyche.

Please return your trays to their upright and locked position, we are in for a bumpy ride.

This was likely my smoking gun. My urologist had never seen a case where a simple carrier of cystic fibrosis was infertile. That led to the realization that I likely had some level of the disease. After this appointment I was scheduled to see a regular family doctor for base line bloodwork test and was recommended to see a pulmonologist. After I completed some basic test with the pulmonologist, it was determined it would be best to refer me to the cystic fibrosis clinic as all roads point to there. The only explanation for everything that I had been experiencing health wise pointed to this or some hyper rare neurological disease. The month of February 2019 was probably one of the more rougher months that I had experienced. In that month alone, my divorce was finalized, we sold the house, and had received the news I was dreading.

One of the key tests in determining where one has cystic fibrosis is a simple sweat test to determine the level of “saltiness” in one’s sweat. Now I’ve already mentioned I’ve had this problem since I could remember, so you know where the story is heading. When I got the results back, my levels were elevated. A literal ton of bricks fell on me. I had arranged a quick office visit to get a blood sample taken and sent up to John Hopkins Cystic Fibrosis clinic for a full genetic panel to be complete as there was no doubt at this point that I had the disease in some level. It would take a full 3 months to get my results back.

I think this is a good stopping point for now at least. These 10 years 2009-2019 would some of the more impactful times in my life. I’m not a religious individual, but I do believe that things happen for a reason and at the time the event happens we may not know the answer to the “why” but some day we might. I feel very strongly about self reflection and self learning. We learn from our mistakes to shape our future. During my time in therapy we have been building a mindset of mindfulness. With the goal of being mindful of my emotions and myself so I can live with this events and guide myself through them. Going to therapy isn’t going to “cure” you of your depression or anxiety, but will allow you to understand these very complex states of emotion.

I’ll pick up where we left off with my next post, with my new found reality.

My Story Chapter 1: From the Depths of Hell

Posted on by fearnothing321

I guess my first “real” post here should be a glimpse into my story and how I’ve made it to this point in my journey.

Let’s see where to start…

For the longest time I’ve suffered from depression and some level of anxiety. And just for some good measure lets throw in some really bad stress management on the top. These mental hurdles all culminate in a suicide attempt back in 2009 when I was in college due poorly managed stress management and distorted need to always succeed at everything I do.

Let me qualify that last statement real quick. Growing up I was always held to the highest standard academically, and was routinely told to “work with my mind and not with my hands” and “under certain circumstance you shouldn’t have to study for tests.” Yes, I do feel as if I am generally gifted when it comes to intelligence as it refers to book smarts and “street smarts.” I have always had a natural attraction to problem solving, fixing, or discovering how something works mechanically. When I was in high school one of my favorite classes that I took was Auto Mechanics. I was happier than a pig in mud in that class. From working with my hands to fixing cars and learning how it all works tickled my fancy. Most of my friends during that time thought I was going to become a grease monkey (and to be fair that’s what I was really wanting to do). But due to my overwhelming success in chemistry, I was slightly nudged into pursuing Chemical Engineering in college. This is the point in which my story really starts to take shape.

Now I don’t blame my parents for pushing me to pursue a higher education, they ultimately wanted the best for me and wanted me to succeed in areas that they may not have when they were growing up. All throughout high school I had nearly perfect attendance pretty much a A/B student, so it would make sense that I would be fine in college. During my sophomore year in college I had the roughest academic year. My biggest hurdle was trying to pass Calculus I with at least a C. This year was the first time that I had ever failed a class. This caused a little friction in which my parents were a little confused as someone was so gifted in high school was struggling this bad in college. I went on to fail out of the School of Engineering at USF (after taking Calc I a total of 5 times… yea I’m persistent), and transferred into the criminology department to fast track my graduation. Now my sophomore/junior years wasn’t all gloom and doom. I did have a few good things happen as well. During this time I discovered a passion in cycling, enjoyed playing in USF Herd of Thunder (this one made me kinda famous, my photo is featured in NCAA Football 2008), and I would meet my first girlfriend who I would later marry then divorce – more on that later.

During this crucial 2ish year period is when I saw my greatest amount of ups and downs. This all culminated in luckily a failed attempt at suicide, with my then girlfriend pulling me back from the edge, literally. During this time the amount of self-inflicted stress I was carrying was tremendous. My GPA slipped to just under 1.50 (I had always previously managed a 3.8-4.0 GPA throughout my academic career up until this time) and I didn’t know who to tell this to my parents, whom likely may not have been able to understand why I was doing this bad. Add on this a relationship the was already starting to show it may not be for the best.

As always did with my stressors and mental health issues, I shoved them in to the depths of the back of my mind in hopes they would just “go away.” As we all know this doesn’t work.

Once again I felt my relationship was starting to fail and I couldn’t let my family know that I once again “failed” at something, so out of this grew one of my worst personality traits, manipulation. I had been so afraid of failure that I manipulated an individual to stay in a relationship with me for just under 10 years, so I wouldn’t disappoint my family.

As you can see there is an ongoing theme, being afraid of failure and disappointment.

I feel that this is a good end to the opening chapter, that is my story. I’ll pick up where I left on my next post. Thank you for following along with me. I hope with putting myself out there that I might be able to help someone who may be going through the same thing that I went through.