Baking a lot of cookies is not a cure for clinical depression.

My life was going along well, I thought. It was September of 2003, and I was very busy. I worked full time, my husband worked part time, and we were raising two young daughters with the help of our parents, who took turns providing daycare.

I felt like something was not quite right with my life, and I wondered what it might be. I began to worry a little more than usual. I had a lump in my throat that would not go away. But other than that, I was fine.

Then one day at work I had what can best be described as an hour-long panic attack. It was the most frightening experience of my life; usually my panic attacks lasted only a minute or two, and I had not had one for two years.

This was different. It was as if I was metamorphosing into a tearful, terrified, scared and weakened shell of my former self. And it happened fast. (Think of the Incredible Hulk, but in reverse.)

I went home from work that day, shaking, and out of the blue told my husband that I could never go back to my workplace. It was like something had snapped, and I had no reserves to draw upon. I was broken. I was crazy.

Thankfully my employer did not accept my immediate resignation, and my union contacted me and counseled me to apply for a medical leave. I am forever grateful to my supervisor at the time, who gave me the number of the Employee Assistance Program, and a few kind words telling me to take as much time as I needed to get better. I did not tell anyone else at work what was wrong. I vanished.

I once again called on the psychiatrist who had helped me with my post-partum depression, and returned to therapy. For three months I attended weekly therapy sessions, but refused to take antidepressant medication. I thought that the medication would change my personality. And I was afraid of the side effects.

My husband started a new, full-time job. I baked a lot of cookies, cleaned my house from floor to ceiling and hoped I would be able to get better all by myself. I remember replacing all the 60W bulbs in my kitchen with 100W bulbs. My illness made it so I perceived everything dimmer.

As Christmas approached my anxious tearful mood sank into a very deep, dark depression. Even as that got worse, my psychiatrist was being treated for a back problem and was regularly unavailable. I visited my family doctor, who prescribed me some antidepressants, and I finally started taking them. But it was too late.

I hit my rock bottom one night during the Christmas holidays. The details of this time are far too personal to discuss here. The thoughts that occurred to me in my darkest hour are worse than any nightmare I’ve ever had. I experienced what they call “psychotic features.” Sounds bad—it was.

My husband drove me to the ER, and before morning I had a bed in the psychiatric ward: voluntary commitment.

My two weeks in the hospital were not at all how I had imagined hospitalization would be. I started new medications and began to sleep more. I was getting the help I so desperately needed—the sense of relief alone lifted my mood. I made friends, laughed a little, and most importantly I expanded my support network to include another psychiatrist, and a hospital-based counselor. My husband and children visited, and we played cards.

Shortly after I was discharged I enrolled in an outpatient program for people healing from mental illness. The program, which was held in the basement of the psychiatric ward at my hospital, was 40 hours per week and completely funded by the provincial government. I was involved in intense group therapy, exercise, social time and vocational therapy. The program lasted three months, and can best be described as “Depression University.”

It wasn’t easy work getting better; always two steps forward, one step back. But I did heal.

I’ll never forget the day in the Spring of 2004. I had been crying after a group therapy session. The group went for a walk outside afterward. When I blew my nose, I could smell the flowers again. I had not realized how dulled my senses had been. The sun warmed my face. I could feel again.

In Part Three: Returning to work after a major depression, some tips to make it easier.

© Airdrie Miller

Image: SXC

Airdrie Miller teaches high school mathematics in Vancouver, BC. She also co-hosts and produces a podcast called Lip Gloss and Laptops. She has two beautiful daughters and a bloggable husband. Check him out at penmachine.com.

Post from: Blisstree

In My Experience: Surviving Major Depression: Part Two

This post is part of Celebrity Health Week at the b5media Health & Wellness Channel. For more information about Celebrity Health Week posts here at Mental Health Notes, visit Introducing Celebrity Health Week: Celebrities And Mental Illness.

In this Celebrity Health Week post, we’ll take a look at some female celebrities who have a mental illness – or had, in the case of the deceased. We’ll look at actresses, singers, and other well-known female figures.

Please note that I am not an authority on celebrities and mental illness. For a celebrity to be on this list, either she or a spouse or reliable family member must have publicly discussed – verbally or otherwise – her mental illness, or, in the case of the deceased, professionals must have addressed it later on.

Read on.

Britney Spears, who has seemingly bowed (or been dragged) out of the spotlight, may have been suffering from bipolar disorder and postpartum depression for quite some time, according to her family and friends (and honestly, who knows you better than your momma and your best friends?). While I can’t find any other reliable source stating Spears has bipolar disorder such as her own public statement (and I may just be overlooking something – hospitalizations and Dr. Phil visits aside), you can read msnbc.com’s Sources: Spears suffering from bipolar disorder.

Drew Barrymore, actress and current Cover Girl face, reportedly attempted suicide after leaving drug rehabilitation when she was 14 years old and was hospitalized. Though I can’t find any reliable source on exactly what mental health issues she may have dealt with (or may still currently deal with), self-medication and dual diagnosis seem to play a role. Barrymore played a character with mental illness in 1995’s Mad Love.

Halle Berry also attempted suicide with carbon monoxide poisoning, as she told Parade, after her marriage to baseball star David Justice crumbled and depression set in. Berry will soon star in Frankie and Alice, an indie movie she’s also producing, as a woman with multiple personality disorder

Lorraine Bracco, my favorite therapist to my favorite Mob Boss, discussed her battles with depression with WebMD, as well as the troubled times she’s experienced and how she copes now.

Ashley Judd, actress, daughter of Naomi Judd and sister to Wynonna, talked with Glamour about how she entered rehab in 2006 for depression and co-dependency.

Brooke Shields documented her battles with postpartum depression in Down Came the Rain: My Journey Through Postpartum Depression, and consequently drove my dislike for Tom Cruise home just a little bit further.

Jane Pauley, formerly of The Today Show and Dateline, is always the woman I think of when I wonder how bipolar disorder may affect my career. Check out Jane Pauley: The Sanest Person in Television.

Roseanne, in all her raunchy hysterical glory, announced publicly that she was diagnosed with depression, agoraphobia, obsessive-compulsive disorder, and multiple personality disorder. Roseanne also documented an abusive childhood in her autobiography My Lives.

Naomi Judd, mother to Wynonna and Ashley and former one-half of The Judds, has dealt with depression, panic attacks, and separation anxiety, all of which are symptoms of the Hepatitis C she continues to fight – and win.

Alanis Morissette began to experience depression while she was on tour promoting Jagged Little Pill (one of my top 10 favorite albums of all time). To reporters, she commented that she hadn’t kept her physical and mental health as top priorities during the tour, and took time off to travel, reconnect with friends, read, and take better care of her body.

Margot Kidder, Superman’s Lois Lane, has bipolar disorder and in 1996 survived a public episode – including shaving her head long before Britney shocked you all.

Natalie Cole, singer and daughter of Nat King Cole, battled depression and substance abuse in the late 1970s and early 1980s.

Princess Diana battled bulimia and may have struggled with borderline personality disorder according to Diana: In Search of Herself author Sally Bedell Smith.

Marilyn Monroe, legendary sex icon and actress on her better days, was committed to a mental institution one month after filming began for Something’s Got to Give and two months before she was found dead from an apparent drug overdose. Both Monroe’s mother and grandmother suffered from mental illness, and Monroe often worried she’d meet the same fate. Monroe’s self-medicating behavior was no secret, and I’ve read about her depression and possible bipolar disorder (and even schizophrenia) though I can’t find any reliable online documentation that clearly states what mental illness she had.

Patty Duke documented her bipolar disorder in both Call Me Anna: The Autobiography of Patty Duke and Brilliant Madness: Living with Manic-Depressive Illness, which she co-authored with Gloria Hochman.

Carrie Fisher, who played Princess Leia in Star Wars, lives with manic depression (bipolar disorder). Although she struggled at first, Fisher now combines medication, therapy, writing, and comic relief to manage her mental illness.

Linda Hamilton, who played Sarah Conner in the Terminator movies, discussed her bipolar disorder, depression, and compulsive eating on AP Radio in 2004. Read the transcript at msnbc.

Vivien Leigh, star of Gone with the Wind, struggled with both bipolar disorder and alcoholism for most of her life. Anne Edwards documented Leigh’s life in Vivien Leigh: A Biography.

Connie Francis, well-known singer in the 1950s and 1960s (go on, ask your mom about her – I almost guarantee you’ll get a rendition of “Who’s Sorry Now?” – maybe even “Where The Boys Are”) was diagnosed with manic depression (bipolar disorder), suffered nervous breakdowns, and was involuntarily confined to mental hospitals.

Audrey Hepburn reportedly battled depression but lived a full life of acting and activism (she became a special ambassador to the United Nations UNICEF in 1988).

Note that this is not a comprehensive list of female celebrities with mental illnesses; it’s merely a list of the female celebrities for whom I’ve found information. If you know of any others – and can provide credible sources – feel free to leave them in the comments.

And, if you’re wondering where all the Sylvia Plaths and Virginia Woolfs are, well, stick around. On Friday I’ll cover all the writers and artists who have (or had) mental illnesses.

Images: Newscom

Post from: Blisstree

Female Celebrities And Mental Illness