Dealing with Mental Illness

Mental illness is something that has a stigma attached to it, even today. People with mental illnesses often are labeled "crazy" and often they think they are. I personally have suffered from mental illness for essentially the majority of my life, since a young child probably around 5. I have struggled with depression and generalized anxiety disorder for many years, and I was diagnosed at 17, during the fall of 2009. I then started talk therapy and a medication (I can't remember the name) for my anxiety and Lexparo for my depression. At the time I was reluctant to share my issues with others so only close friends and some family knew.

Over a period of six months I learned how to deal with my depression and stopped talk therapy and medication. I began to accept my diagnosis and was more willing to discuss it with others. As I started my second year of college in the fall of 2011 I started struggling with my depression again and started taking Celexa to help me cope. I also started working out, which for me and a lot of people naturally helps you feel better. I had ended up losing some weight and feeling a lot better overall. I ended up learning how to deal with my depression easier and kept it all in check. 

Then in the fall of 2012 I was in a serious car accident. In the hospital I was treated for anxiety issues and depression. I first took Clonazepam for my anxiety but that wasn't working so they added a stronger medicine, Xanax occasionally. I also was put on Celexa again for my depression. I had extreme issues with anxiety while in the hospital but my issues with depression didn't set in so much until after I was released. After being released I had extreme feelings of hopelessness and helplessness. I was unable to cope with any extra stress without having panic attacks. I notably had a fairly major panic attack while talking about the possibility of having to have skin grafts. I also had extreme anxiety every time I was in a vehicle, I was afraid every car ride would turn into a wreck, the longer the ride the stronger the panic inside of me. I also experienced ruminating thoughts about the accident and time in the emergency room. I would constantly go over and over details and could not stop it even though the thoughts bothered me. That turned into sleepless nights full of worry and sadness. Quickly my family and I realized I probably had some form of post traumatic stress disorder, also known as PTSD.

I started going to specialized counseling in October and was diagnosed with a minor form of PTSD. When I started I also had feelings that I wish I had died or was dead, the closest I have ever come to having suicidal thoughts. My therapist and I handled those feelings, which were caused by my PTSD, and stopped them fairly quickly. I slowly learned how to handle my triggers, such as thoughts of the accident or ER time or being in a vehicle. I eventually became able to handle everyday life with ease. I switched to regular talk therapy counseling in January. During my talk therapy I learned to cope with my depression and sleep issues and I stopped going after a couple of months.

Now, 10 months after my accident I have a handle on my triggers, I am able to drive a car by myself, I have stopped taking my anxiety medication and am coming down off of my antidepressant. I still struggle every day with depression, anxiety, and PTSD, as I likely will for my entire life. Some days are great and without trouble, others I have sleepless nights and worries that won't stop. I still have issues almost every time I am in a vehicle and work at handling them every time. 

The Day That Changed My Life

Note, this entry may be graphic to some, I have left out most instances of gore and have tried to be as general as possible in my descriptions. The links also are not of a graphic nature.

My life was turned upside down on September 22, 2012 when my older brother and I got into a severe car accident. He was lucky enough to be unharmed asked from bruises and scrapes; I, however, ended up with a broken nose, a fractured left fibula, and a compound fracture of my left tibia; not to mention a 17 day stay in the hospital. Note, this may be graphic to some, but I have attempted to make this as friendly as possible

The back of the car, you can vaguely see my brothers head on the left by the EMT. 

(Photo from the Herald Democrat)

The drivers side of the car.

(Photo from KXII)

How it happened:
We first swerved right to avoid hitting a car that had pulled out in front of us; we then hit a metal culvert in the road which made us airborne to the left, flying into the street/stop sign. We also flipped an undetermined number of times, onto the top and possibly passenger side of the vehicle.

The aftermath:
Once we stopped rolling everything seems to either be a blur or slow motion in my memory, I remember quite a bit of what happened though. We called for emergency assistance and what seemed like an eternity later the ambulance showed up. They put my in a neck brace since I had obvious head trauma from my broken nose and I was pretty certain that my leg was broken. They covered my brother and I up with blankets to protect us as they cut the doors off of the car. After getting my door off, since I was obviously the most critically injured person in the vehicle they cut mine off first, they started maneuvering me onto a stretcher. It looks much easier to do on movies and TV than it was in real life for me. I suppose because of the angle of everything I actually had to attempt to lift myself as well, without using my left leg. They got me mostly on when I noticed my leg was bleeding, I for some reason felt compelled to say my leg was bleeding, even though I now am quite sure they knew, and an EMT immediately told me to lie down. I listened thinking it was for my safety on the stretcher and nothing more. After what seemed like ages they got me into the ambulance where my clothing was cut away, an IV inserted, pulse and blood pressure was checked, and all sorts of things. I was given the option of getting morphine in my IV, but it was explained to me that it could be detrimental to my body if I were to have a concussion, so I declined.

Thankfully I didn't have a concussion and received painkillers in the ER. Lots of painkillers, as well as lots of antibiotics. Due to my state of shock and injuries the pain was unable to be controlled, I was either unconscious due to my medicated state or about an 8 on the pain scale.

This is essentially what the pain scale looks like in a hospital if you didn't know.

This however was the pain scale I wish I had had most of the time.

I pretty much don't remember anything from the first week after the wreck. Most of what I remember is my time in the ER and receiving my initial CAT scans, CT scans, and all the other basic workup. The first night I had emergency surgery where the wound was cleaned and my leg was fitted with an external fixator. I was taken to the intermediate ICU and stayed there for the next three and a half days. On the 24th I had my second surgery, which was supposed to be the surgery in which I had the titanium rod and screws inserted into my leg. However I had a fever during the night before and they feared that I had an infection. To combat that possibility and the compartment syndrome I was possibly developing my surgeon decided to open my leg up more to release some of the tension and inspect for infection. The subsequent three surgeries were performed to insert the titanium rod in my tibia for stabilization, the screws for added stabilization, the bone graft for assistance in bone growth, and to close the remainder of the wound as much as possible. Throughout the course of my stay I had a wound V.A.C., a PICC line, an echo-cardiogram, a doppler ultrasound on my legs, and I wore a telemonitor to monitor my heart rate all the time. 

I left the hospital on October 8th with only the wound V.A.C., which I had for almost three weeks after leaving the hospital, and quite a few medications. On December 17th I started my ongoing physical therapy journey. I have been blessed beyond measure with healing that has progressed smoothly and at times quickly, a loving bunch of family and friends that helped take care of me and put up with my insane moods, and wonderful doctors, nurses, therapists, and various others that have made my recovery a tolerable and at times wonderful thing. While at times recovery is still a major struggle, I am taking life one step at a time and making it through with a little help.

Past, Present, and Future

Yesterday I decided that I would start a blog, something I've been wanting to do for quite a while now. I've had the name picked out for years now, but I never could decide what to write about. My day-to-day life is pretty boring and I was never thrilled with doing a fashion blog for various reasons, including the reason I decided to write.

My weight.

I have struggled with my weight and body image for about three years now. I know, I know some of you are going to say that I look fine, I don't need to lose any weight, and things of the like. But the truth is I am overweight and I do need to lose weight to get healthy. This struggle with my weight is one that I know many people can relate to, no matter what size they are; so I decided to start a blog about my personal journey. This journey will include postings about my past, present, and hopeful future.

First I want to tell everyone about how I got where I am today. 

Three years ago I was 18, a senior in high school and in fairly good health, but not in good shape.

Senior Picture April 2010, weight: approximately 140lbs

I decided that it was in my best interest to try and get into shape, so I went to the gym at Southeastern and started walking and lifting weights. I got more in shape and felt better about myself. Graduation came, I took a desk job at a call center and that is where it started. At first the pounds only slowly added on, but quickly it became a weight gain of about 15lbs.

October 2010, weight: approximately 165lbs 

Throughout my freshman semester at SE I gained more and more, until I was about 185lbs. For a while I joked about it and said my "freshman 15" turned into the "freshman 40" because, honestly it did and more. I never showed anyone that I was upset about my changing figure and rapid weight gain. I developed stretch marks everywhere and developed an unhealthy opinion about my body. 

May 2011, weight: approximately 185lbs

In fall of 2011 I moved back to my dads and started attending Grayson County College. After seeing my doctor and her showing concern about my weight and (high) cholesterol levels I decided I had to start eating healthier and lose some weight, and I started working out at the GCC gym. By March of 2012 I had lost 20 or 25lbs and was loving exercising, how I looked, and how I felt. 

February 2012, weight: approximately 165lbs

I was enjoying the path I was on, and I even got another job, this time actually doing some labor. So I figured that I could skip the gym more and more since I did work so hard. Well it turns out working at a frozen yogurt place and getting free yogurt when you worked doesn't help you keep weight off. I know guys, frozen yogurt is supposed to be healthy, but not when you eat a gallon of the stuff, or more, a week. Throughout the time I worked there and through the summer when I didn't have access to a gym and it was too hot for me to make myself go walking outside I gained about 25lbs. I had gotten up to around 190lbs, the highest I have ever been. I started trying to lose weight by the end of the summer and started going back to the gym when school started up. Over those few months I had developed good eating habits and a great workout routine and lost 15bs. Then on September 22, 2012 I had a serious car accident and I broke my left tibia and fibula.

September/October 2012, weight: approximately 175lbs

Over the first few months after my accident I was wheelchair bound, but amazingly didn't gain any weight. Once I was allowed to start physical therapy and walking in a walking boot the pounds started coming back. They kept adding up, I knew some of them were from regaining muscle mass in my leg that had severely deteriorated during the three months I wasn't allowed to put any weight on it. But the rest was because of poor eating habits while still being physically restricted. Today I weigh 200lbs, my official all time high.

February 2013, weight: approximately 195lbs