O gentle sleep...

I don't sleep well. Never really have.

I used to sleep walk when I was a kid. All of us did. My brother peed on my mom's shoes; my sister went next door, looking for me, in the middle of the night, when she was 9. We have lucid conversations with people and then wake up having no recollection. I still talk in my sleep sometimes. My husband says it's the cutest and creepiest thing I do.

I wake up and see things. I'm not asleep; I don't dream them. I remember every second and it's very real when it's happening.

There are people in my room all the time. I wake up in the middle of the night, and there's a shadow crossing my room; someone walking across the floor in the dark. I've seen children, friends, strangers. There are objects in my room. I've seen strange, geometric spider webs; an unwieldy news camera; buzzing wasps nest; a dragon. These things are absolutely real. I find myself in the middle of a stone cold panic in the dark. My body is completely paralyzed and I can't make myself un-see the horrible reality in front of me. Until I shift. Something shifts in me, a consciousness or perspective, and I realize that I'm not seeing what I'm seeing; not talking sense.

I wake up and apologize.

 

I'm sorry I scared you. Sorry I was annoyed that you “threw a party” in our bedroom in the middle of the night. Sorry I told you there was a man standing over me. I didn't mean to wake you up. Sorry.

I'm sure these “visitors,” as I call them, are triggered by something -stress, alcohol, fear, pepperoni pizza- but I haven't found a pattern yet. Sometimes I wake up and see terrifying things. Sometimes I don't.

One of the worst symptoms of depression, in my experience, is insomnia. And it's not just the inability to sleep. The turning and groaning; aches and pains that make any position a pinching discomfort; racing thoughts; guilt and shame projecting the happenings of the day poorly spent. That's all shit for sure. The thing that really gets me about the insomnia is that, while I'm grunting in frustration and counting backwards, all I can think about is how tired I was...all day. Eight hours before, at my desk, I was fantasizing about sleep. I had washed just my hair, crotch, and armpits that morning -no proper bath- so I could sleep an extra 10 minutes. I thought about skipping lunch and napping, even though I couldn't choke down a full dinner the night before. I was so fucking tired all day and now I'm flipping like a pancake, trying to get a few hours of solid sleep. The irony is staggering. I'd cry if I weren't laughing.

My friend sent a message to me a little while ago and it helped...

I wrote myself a poem last night so I could go to sleep:

It's okay to go to sleep now.

There's nothing more to do today.
There's no more planning needed for tomorrow.
Rest. Tomorrow, you'll be as good or better.

Knocked me right out.

Be a good host

Imagine a person going to a theme party...

There is a woman who can carry on quite well at a Harry Potter party without knowing anything about the books; she's never even seen the movies. She ask questions, learns the vocabulary, and joins in enthusiastically. She has a good time and fits in nicely with the rest of the fanatics. By the end of the night, she's discussing the differences between the written series and the films. You would hardly know she's the person who didn't know a thing about Harry Potter.

Another person goes to a zombie party, even though he hasn't seen The Walking Dead or read the graphic novel. He's going to attend, knowing that he likes the people. He sees familiar, welcoming faces but doesn't ever feel in sync with everyone else around him. The chatter and laughter are all based on a joke he doesn't get. He never quite connects with the people he had such a great time with just a few days before. They're all talking about the latest episode of The Walking Dead, and he's been watching Boardwalk Empire.

Some poor woman goes to a Game of Thrones party, full-length gown and all. She has read all of the books and watches the show religiously. But guess what. It's a Breaking Bad party and everyone's wearing yellow zip-ups. She's seen Bryan Cranston's performance and it's great. She can't wait to talk about his relationship with Jesse in season 4. Everyone can see she's in the wrong costume, of course, but she figures she can get people to focus on her knowledge of the show. She tries to laugh it off. She makes an effort to adapt. She ends up explaining her appearance all night and never gets around to having a normal conversation with anyone.

The last guy gets invited to theme parties constantly. He reads a lot of books; he watches movies every weekend; his DVR is full of the latest shows. Naturally, he'd love to put on half a face mask and talk about Boardwalk Empire. There's no way he wouldn't want to put on a cocktail dress and discuss Mad Men with the best of them. Except he doesn't want to do any of that. He doesn't want to be a part of this hokey charade. He just wants to come home from work, take his pants off, and watch his shows in peace. He'll update his blogs and read some other people's. Then he'll read another chapter of Game of Thrones and go to bed.

Let me tell you something about people with depression:

We're constantly trying to pass.

People with depression are invited to participate in an event where we don't speak the lingo. Some of us are very good at it though. We can blend in and adapt with a little bit of effort. But there are times when we just can't find our way through the crowd, even around loved ones. And some of us can't get people to look past this one fact about us to see how much we actually have in common. We just can't get mentally healthy people to understand that we aren't like them. We might have things in common, but we don't express ourselves in the same way. It's very frustrating and we want to fit in most of the time. Other time we just need to be left alone to be pitiful.

Be patient. Keep inviting us to join in the festivities. Just remember that we can't always fit in the way you would like -or even show up at all. It's nothing personal. Sometimes people get the flu.

What happened to you?

It's not that people don't care or haven't had any experience with mental illness; it's just difficult to understand. The stigma surrounding mental illness is as strong as it is outdated. Not that I blame people for their lack of knowledge. It's much easier to think of depression as a temporary, self-inflicted phase than a dangerous disease with complex and varied sources and treatments. It's a lot quicker to call a person "crazy" than to understand the social, physical, chemical, and circumstantial factors that influence her mental health.

I've heard some pretty ignorant and hurtful things in regards to mental illness. These are just a few actual things that people have said to me in reference to my depression.

"What does a beautiful young woman like you have to be depressed about?"

This question is a statement. This kind of remark says I have no right to suffer from my illness. This question-statement suggests that I can simply not be the way I am if I look at myself in the mirror. Depression is a right, something you earn by being trod upon and disfigured. If I would just choose to realize how good I have it in comparison to others, I wouldn't be sick anymore. It says that unattractive people or those over 50 may and should be depressed. This question was meant as a compliment! A medial professional said this to me, and she should have known better.

"What happened?"

This kind of question is also a statement. It says that a person should only have "an emotional problem" if a sufficiently awful event has occurred. I get this a lot when I come out to a new person as a sufferer of mental illness. When I say, quite plainly, that I live with depression, I'm often met with this well-meaning question. This is like responding to an abuse victim's tale with "What did you do? You must have done something..." To be fair, sometimes circumstances trigger depression. That does happen. However, my depression is chronic and hereditary. If something horrible happens, it may bring on my symptoms, yes, but more often than not, there is no immediate, external reason for my illness to show itself.

"I wanted to shake you by the shoulders and tell you to get over yourself. Your friends' eyes are soon going to glaze over, and they will not be able to give you the attention you demand."

Unlike other questions and comments about my illness, this was said specifically to hurt me. It worked. I am in a constant battle against the paranoia that I could be demanding too much help, attention, and validation. As a person dealing with mental illness, I am painfully aware of the emotional burden I can be on my loved ones. It's unbearable. No matter how small the imposition, I feel the guilt of being an "attention hog" or "needy" or a "drama queen." I don't want the kind of attention that makes me the center of the universe or the focus of conversation. I crave the care and attention that come from not being able to trust my own perception.

"Sometimes being a friend means letting someone else be more sad for a while."

Depression is not a contest. It can be difficult to see past my own insomnia, weight loss, and feelings of helplessness, but I won't invalidate another person's emotions because it's "my turn" to be sad. Depression, whether clinical or circumstantial, is not a competition for sympathy cards. Your struggle is your struggle and mine is mine. There aren't any points to keep track of; there's no schedule to adhere to. We're both just trying to survive, and covering up my struggle is not the way to do it.

"You have to decide to be happy."

This is a crock. It's a nice idea for a motivational poster, but it just doesn't apply to mental illness. Would you tell a person with MS to will himself out of sickness? No. That's insensitive and medically unsound. How many cancer patients have you told to just think away the tumor? None. Because you'd be a complete asshole if you suggested such a thing. So why is it acceptable to prescribe "mind over matter" to a person suffering from a mental disease? It's not. It's not helpful to suggest that a person is simply choosing to be sick. It's not okay to tell someone she needs to "snap out of it" and wake up healthy. Not to mention the fact that you're telling someone to use the very thing that is malfunctioning to fix the broken part. Now who's crazy?

"You do love your drama..."

I've gotten used to crying uncontrollably. There came a point when I had to stop being embarrassed about it or leave the room. Wasting away my evenings in a bathrobe is not my idea of fun, but the pile of dishes in the sink hasn't gotten bigger than my will to sleep until I feel human again. I make jokes about my disease because no one likes a Debbie Downer. I use humor to cope. I transform trauma into art. I found a way to make my weakness a strength. I don't enjoy it.



There's no reason to suffer these slights quietly. Most people don't know how hurtful they are being, and they won't know unless you tell them.

Educate yourself. If you are living with mental illness, learn more about it. (If you're not, that shouldn't stop you from finding out more anyway.) Find others who are coping. Empower yourself with information.

Read a trashy novel, wear sparkly shoes

Kate Middleton Post-Baby is Already Skinnier Than You

-Yahoo Shine headline

Poison.

This kind of "news" piece attacks the reader emotionally and directly by:

• perpetuating competition about body size/shape/type
• shaming mothers and fathers who have not lost "the baby weight"
• equating being skinny with being rich, famous, beautiful, and well-loved
• perpetuating the notion that being healthy and/or thin has a deadline

You don't have to put up with it. Stop reading this shit. It's poison.

There is a lot of pressure inside your head. There are classes to go to; bills to pay; blind dates to go on; deadlines to meet; medication to take; treadmills to pile clothes onto; people to avoid. You don't need this. Just stop it. Read sciencey stuff, especially about how big the universe is. Read about gorillas who are best friends with tiny domestic pets. Read stories about people being nice to other people on airplanes. Listen to plinky plunky music that relaxes you. Listen to peppy crap that makes you smile and sing along. Listen to comedians. Watch videos of several babies laughing at the same time. Watch old people holding hands. Watch kittens and puppies, preferably together, while they run and play and do adorable tiny things.

Stop letting this insane body competition trick you into hating yourself. You're fine. You've got problems, sure, but your very existence is next to impossible. Think of amazing stuff like that. Don't think about this "50 Ways That Frowning Makes You Gain Weight" bullshit. It's fake and it's poison. It's cancer of the spirit. Just cut it out of your life.

Have a cookie. Get your nails done. Punch a pillow.



P.S. I actually read the article and I was struck by something pretty disgusting: "More surprising, we suppose (though, considering her clearly alien genetics, maybe it's not that shocking), she appears to already be back to her pre-baby weight."

So we love Kate. We want to be just like her. She's chic and young and in love and super rich. But she's an alien and we can never ever be like her. It's impossible. But try anyway. Because you love her. You hate her.

Stop it.

I always felt so different and so crazy. -Kurt Cobain on high school

Most people feel this way about their adolescence, don't they? Kurt was famously tortured (and tortured by being famous). Does that make his story ironic? Is this just a case of hearing the same old story from a bigger megaphone?

When young people who suffer from mental illness express their pain, it can be brushed off as "whining" or "dramatic." All teens don't struggle with depression, but it can certainly seem that way at times. How can we tell who is "really depressed" and who is "just looking for attention"? What's the difference? Where is the line?

As a teen living with depression, I found that the real comfort started from within myself and was pushed outward. I wrote, sang, acted, played the violin. I didn't have the resources or emotional capacity to share my experiences directly with other people. I used the arts to bridge the gap and ease the pain. I needed a public platform to become someone else; someone who was well-liked and praised. That's still my main therapeutic activity. I wonder how other kids got through it...

If you have thoughts on this, please share!

Reverse To-Do List

Instead of making a to-do list (which I have running in my head on a constant basis [creating a tremendous amount of stress and guilt] anyway), I make a list of things I've already done. It gives me a sense of accomplishment. It makes me feel like less of a slowed-down, fuzzy brained, useless piece of weeping sludge. When I feel ridiculous, like a waste of space, it really helps to throw myself a tiny parade for each little thing I get done.

Recently, I felt especially desperate and created one at work. It was a slow day, and I was on the verge of a crying fit, so I took pen to paper and jotted down some tasks well done. Or at least done.

Today:

take bath                                    go to psychiatrist      

eat relatively healthy lunch        post queer issues petition 

get dressed                                eat breakfast

get help                                      cry

stay cheerful at work                 sing

drink water                                give coping advice

finish reading a book                 schedule SP work

 

This week:

do dishes                                    go to set strike

have sex                                     drive to Chicago and back    

talk to SG                                   do laundry

go to comedy show                    go to theatre event

spend time with TM                   share pictures

call Dad                                      pay rent

raise money for charity              have amazing latte

talk to EW                                  take a day off

pitch 2 interviews                       eat pastry

deposit wedding checks             book honeymoon

 

This month:

go to PZ's birthday                     go to the doctor     

invite MB to wedding                 look at wedding pics    

talk to MH                                  get married

move MM out                            talk to LG

propose for season                    hug JR

write wedding vows                   dance with OG

 

This year:

plan a wedding                           play Ophelia

baby-sit OG                                bowl with drag queens   

learn to make espresso              start writing for SP  

buy wedding band                      get a lap dance

have 2 bachelorette parties        get a new job

go to JK's wedding                     meet MG

go to SK's wedding                    direct Vacation

go to HJ's wedding                     see Absinthe

go to MI's wedding                     go to Las Vegas

have a bridal shower

After seeing everything I had already accomplished, I promptly gave myself permission to do nothing for the rest of the day. Sometimes that's what you have to do.

Help others to help yourself.

There was this girl I did a couple of plays with in high school. She was a few years younger, and we got along great. I've barely spoken to her since -we "like" each other's stuff on Facebook once in a while and make each other laugh in comment threads.

Today, I received a message from her, and I couldn't keep it to myself. This interaction was so inspiring and helpful. It feels so good to make that connection with someone, and it's infinitely encouraging to feel trusted and valued by someone "out there."

If you need help, give help. It's empowering and life-affirming to share someone else's journey, even if it's only for a little while.

 

Hey! I just wanted to send you a private message about how much you inspire me with your updates. The fact that you're so open about your mentality is also inspiring. My sister suffers with depression and is made to feel ashamed of it...as if it's her fault. She's only 17. She is really struggling with bullying and anxiety attacks from it. Is there any advice you can give me other than to be open (she's recently come out as bisexual) and supportive? I'm scared for her and I thought you may be able to help. I know we haven't seen each other in awhile and I don't want to invade your privacy, but we seem to have similar ideals and I thought it'd be ok to reach out to you.   

Wishing you the best!

Thank you. Thank you so much. If she needs anyone to listen or to talk about serious things or silly things, there is someone who doesn't even know her, who is dying to learn who she is and how her life is shaping. And YOU. If you ever want to talk about anything, I do NOT put a statute of limitations on friendship. And I hope I can share what you've said. I love to share the support and inspiration that comes from talking openly about mental illness, sexuality, abuse, or anything else under the sun.

Absolutely share it. I just worry for her because I'm the only person she feels like she can be honest with and I'm so far away now.

If she needs a stranger to talk to, I'm available. Sometimes it helps to talk with someone who doesn't know all the bullshit. You can just say what you need to say and get feedback and go back to life, you know? Tell her.

I will definitely bring it up to her. High school feels so tough. And with her being bullied it's worse. She's a junior. I keep telling her she's more than halfway through it...but I know it feels endless.

It really does. High school was miserable for me (except for drama club) and I struggled with depression and body issues. It's horrible and I would never tell her it isn't. But it does end. There will be an end to that bullshit.

She's having such a rough time because on top of her questioning her sexuality, she's also on the societal "fat" side and she likes "weird" things like Dr. Who.

Tell her there are a ton of people who love Dr Who! Some of the smartest, loveliest, most talented and creative people I know are obsessed with Dr Who!

I love Dr. Who!! Even though I think Moffat is a sexist prick. I try and tell her she's just advanced and open for her age. She's not afraid of being herself but she's being made to feel like she should be!

Being the flat, smart, loud girl made me not-so-popular in high school and middle school. Those qualities meant I had to develop a sense of humor. An opinion. A personality. A screening process for friendship. I am SO MUCH BETTER OFF because I was "weird" for a while! BUT none of that will make her feel better. She needs to know that someone wants to get to know her NOW. That there is a woman who thinks she sounds interesting and smart. You are wonderful and supportive. You are also required to be. She may just need another voice. A non-relative. An objective eye.

Yes! Besides family! She told me that she doesn't think I really know how it feels since I was "pretty, skinny, and popular."

You got it. (For the record, I don't think you had no problems in high school because you were "pretty, skinny, and popular." But I know where she's coming from.)

But she won't understand until later that nobody feels "skinny, pretty, and popular" in high school. My biggest regrets are from high school. Because I didn't like myself. And so I was just a defensive bitch and now I hate the way I may have come off to people.

That's such a valuable thing for her to know! When you come out on the other side of these hard times, it's SO IMPORTANT to look back and be proud of your character. She will be such a better person in the long run. She'll see that short-term rewards are hollow. The most incredible facts about yourself are earned. They're not easy and they hurt. But then you get to live your life caring about other people and valuing yourself.

Absolutely. I totally agree.

Again, she won't want to hear any of that.

Yeah. It's tough to talk to a 16-year-old.

It's tough to BE one. She just needs someone to listen. She needs unconditional love.

WAY tough. We're not so old that we don't remember!

Guh. I remember. It seems like yesterday. And also like a dream, something that never happened.

Same thing!!!

Yeah. Weird. See? Just talking to someone else...you find out you're not alone! Someone out there really gets what you're feeling!

Yeah. I'm suggest that she meet up with you for coffee.

Absolutely. I'm so busy, but I always find a way to make time.

Thank you so much! I've been thinking about contacting you for awhile now but wasn't sure if it'd be appropriate.

Never wonder again. Door's wide open, lady.

Again. Thank you. It's nice to be able to talk to someone that gets it. You're the best.

Thank YOU. I'm so glad I got to talk to you. I hope I can help!

A Bit of Poetry

The Only place

no lonely

the only

the Only place

the single space

singularity

beaming light

choking grip

warming hand

demanding lover

patient mother

past/present

history

me

covering my

revealing my

revising and building my

true

naked

my actual self

scream here

loud enough

big enough

true and safe enough

never enough

call my bluff

never Enough

insides screaming

tears streaming

down

face down

weeping cackling

ripping stitching

rising

standing

impossible dreaming

beaming

the soap box

the tolling clock

The World in a little black box

the only

the Only place

The Story in one story

Everyone in one

the stage is the only

The Only

the very place

the Always place

the stage is the Only place

that tight embrace of open space

This Stage is the Only Place

my place

our space

this stage is

this stage in

Life

I know my place

 

 

The Master of Making Up Stuff

Even in the midst of tragedy there is always the possibility for laughter. -Del Close, the godfather of Chicago improv

In five years' time, I moved in with my boyfriend, quit several jobs, directed four plays, got fired for the first time, lost and gained friends and family, decided my dream job wasn't, and got engaged. Through all of those changes, I got more and more flexible. I accepted Life's challenged and changes with less and less resistance as the years went on. I became a more intuitive actor, a more fearless performer. I trusted my instincts a little more with each passing year, took more chances, and redefined my comfort zone on and off stage.

I've been doing improvisational comedy for five years. Even though the performances are made up, there are rules. They are universal and wise. I use them constantly. The connections to everyday living are pretty obvious, I think, but maybe that's because I've been incorporating them for so long. However, like any guidelines to sincere Truth on stage (or mental health), it's easy to get complacent and forget them. A review is in order from time to time.

1. Say, "Yes." Say, "Yes, and..."

Accept what is presented to you and add to it.

2. Listen.

Your scene partner is telling you everything you need to know. Pay attention.

3. There are no mistakes.

If something doesn't make sense, work with it until it does.

4. Use the path of least resistance.

Don't complicate things. Be creative, but simple and direct.

5. Create an environment.

Know where you are and why. Form the space and it will guide your next move.

6. Create a strong character.

Who/what are you? What's important to you and why?

7. Don't try to be funny. Be real.

Good humor is hiding in plain sight. Just be real and the funny will show itself.


If you can't remember all of this, just remember to say, "Yes, and..." Keep saying "Yes!" to Life and contribute to it. Accept what is happening, use it, and add to it. There is no good or bad in usefulness, only build.

Take a page from Uncle Del's handbook. When times are unbearable, remember there is laughter to be found. Humor is there, even if you're not in the mood to laugh. Notice where the laugh would occur, tuck the moment away, and bring it out later. When you do feel better (and you will), take that laugh for a stroll.  

My official mission statement. Here it is:

1.) help myself

If I do not take care of myself, I cannot take care of anything. Without my mental and physical health intact, I am unable to maintain and obtain normal relationships or fulfilling activities. Given my blue collar background, this has been a tough lesson. The working class is generally encouraged to suck it up and clock in on time. I tried to want a serious career that will take over my life so I can retire when I'm too exhausted to enjoy my time off. I tried to swallow my feelings and be the perfect mate, the perfect employee, and the perfect friend. None of that shit works. Rubbing some dirt on it doesn't. work.

2.) help others

I just want to help someone get through the day. I believe that making someone else's day a little bit easier, a little bit better, is a basic courtesy. It costs nothing and rewards the giver and receiver. There is no good reason to go through life alone and without help.

3.) educate myself about depression

Life is a lesson. I'm going to learn everything I can and pass as much of my knowledge along as possible. I hope to absorb the wisdom gained from other people's experiences, too, without having to go through the messy inconvenience of living them.

4.) educate others about depression

I must gain insight from my experiences because, otherwise, they're a waste. If that insight and hope can be spread around, then all the better.

      4b.) Reduce the stigma surrounding mental illness

              stigma /ˈstɪgmə/ Show Spelled 

              1. a mark of disgrace or infamy; a stain or reproach, as on one's reputation.  

I'm not a doctor.

Despite my best efforts to start a private practice, I can't "practice medicine" without a "medical degree."

I only have my own experience and research. I do not have all of the answers for everyone (or even myself). I can tell you what works for me. I can offer up my friends' advice and my family's supportive words, but I cannot (and should not) diagnose your life for you. I can tell you what works for me. Maybe it will work for you.

Sadness is to depression as a sneeze is to a cold.

When you let loose with a big sneeze, people might think you have a cold. Sure, people sneeze when they have colds, but that's not the only reason you might do it. Maybe you're experiencing a large intake of dust after rearranging your bookshelves. Maybe you put too much pepper on your scrambled eggs. Maybe you've gone against your mother's sage advice and are staring directly at the blazing sun. In any case, a sneeze does not mean a cold. And, furthermore, having a cold does not necessarily mean that you will sneeze.

Sometimes I look over the past few days and weeks, and I realize I may be depressed, even though I haven't felt especially unhappy. I experience many symptoms of depression. Here are some of them:
fatigue
loss of appetite (or only wanting a few specific foods for a prolonged period)
irritability
fixation (on a game, a TV show, a person, a song, a conversation, my physical flaws)
anxiety
nausea
arachnophobia (which is always somewhat present but flairs up during depressed phases) 
very low or high sex drive
sadness
feeling helpless (not to be mistaken with hopelessness)
headache
lack of concentration/forgetfulness
light and/or late periods
paranoia about other people's feelings and intentions
low self-esteem
compulsion (mostly cravings for alcohol/cigarettes/chocolate/caffeine)
dizziness
loss of interest in normal activities, including hygiene-based rituals

Depression is not the end.

While none of that is fun, it is not the end of me. It is confusing and complicated and it sucks, but that doesn't mean I can't gain anything from it. It's not easy to understand or experience, but I do like having the wherewithal to categorize my mental illness. It helps me feel control over something that can feel completely uncontrollable. Depression is interesting, and I am constantly learning new things about it and myself.

I'm excited to share those things with you.