Day One

   My name is Bekki and I have major depressive disorder and panic disorder. I own it. I'm not ashamed of it. I speak about it even though there is a stigma. I'm a very open person and sometimes I find people in the same boat as me and it's a breath of fresh air to realize that I am not alone. It feels good to have a support system and I have found that in unlikely places. Sometimes it feels better to have someone outside your immediate family to talk to.

   Ever since my kidney issue, I have been on a downward spiral and I've never come back up. It's like my body is totally fighting against me. It's physical. Beyond just the depression and lack of joy, the anxiety creates symptoms that are totally life altering. Let me tell you panic attacks and then just constant anxiety that makes your whole body tingle, makes you feel like you can't breath, prevents sleep, makes you sick, makes you dread food is pure hell on earth. I hate when people ask why. Hell, if I could make it go away with willpower, it'd be gone. This has been my life since 1996, fortunately with years between episodes, but apparently my long term med has stopped working, so I am doing a cross taper onto a new med. My anxiety makes me terrified of this because of the risks, but it has to be done. I can't wean off one totally and start another. I tried to do the cross taper recently but stopped due to side effects. After realizing nothing is going to get better without doing something I am back at it again. This time I decided to blog about it as a coping mechanism.

   Day one: Last night I decreased my Lexapro from 20 mg to 15 and started out with 12.5 of Zoloft. I'm supposed to take 25 starting, but my anxiety makes me scared, so I figure I will do a few days at 12.5 to ease in. Despite the new warning about Vistaril with Lexapro together, I took 12.5 of Vistaril last night. I can't deal with the constant waking up in anxiety and even the 1 mg of Klonopin no longer gets me through the night. I got 6 hours of sleep and woke up and then drifted in and out the next two hours with anxiety, but it was honestly better then the other nights where I didn't take the Vistaril.

   So far today I feel fine. Better then yesterday. Probably because my sleep was a little better and my scan is done and was given good news. As of right now, I feel no side effects. Last time, at day 3, my resting pulse was 115. So far so good. Will update how the day goes.

My view of "Political Correctness"

     After waking up early with so many thoughts rushing through my head that I had to write them down, I decided I will start blogging again. Blogging is dangerous because it makes you lose friends. People don’t like what you have to say and I guess in a way, it’s a way to weed out the people who actually care about you. Ironically, this post is going to be mostly about the hot topic, “political correctness.” I’ve noticed often that the people who are so against “political correctness” are the ones who see a different point of view and delete me or barely talk to me again because they don’t like my opinion.

   Last night, Michael and I finally got around to watching the Republican debates. Yes, I am a registered democrat, but I like to hear all sides. I did mention to Michael in the middle that we should have made a drinking game out of the whole thing and drink every time the words “politically correct” was used. I don’t drink anymore, though. This is what political correctness is to me. It’s simply NOT BEING AN ASSHOLE. (Sorry for the cussing, Dad.) After watching the debate, we watched a documentary called, Matthew Shepard is a Friend of Mine. For those who don’t remember, or those that are too young, the Matthew Shepard story was a big deal 17 years ago. He was a young college student beaten to death by two other young men for being gay. I watched his entire life story from being a baby up until the end where he is in the ICU. He was an amazing person, loved by so many, and he lived in a time that was still pretty tough being gay. He went through terrible states of depression as he grew up because of the fear of being who he was. He was terrified his parents would disown him if they found out (“they didn’t.) I cried like a baby seeing the photos of him in the ICU after watching his life story and all I could see in my head were the family videos they showed as a family of him growing up, playing with his brother as a child, his laugh, his love of life, then brutally killed for being gay. What was worse for me, was seeing his funeral at a church where outside protesters had gathered, screaming and holding signs like, “All fags go to hell!” and complaining about how political correctness was being slammed down their throats. These people were quoting bible verses about him being an abomination and saying he got what he deserved. If you had a child who was gay, how would that make you feel? Is being politically correct all about saying all the mean things you want and then complaining when you are called out on it? Damn liberals and their gay agenda. See, I don’t even care if you think being gay is a terrible thing. I think you’re wrong, but I do believe people have an obligation to be decent human beings. You don’t like gay people? You don’t think it goes along with your religion? Great! Please, be nice to people, though. Let them live their lives and you live yours. They aren’t hurting you in any way.

   Next, I want to address the so called “War on Christmas.” There is no war. The term has been used since 1909. Then, it was directed at Jews.  Contrary to what you think, we have a right to practice any religion we want in America. I am a Christian. I don’t care if you are a Buddhist, Hindu, Muslim, Jew, Pagan or atheist. I am able to proudly display my Christmas tree in the window, wear a cross around my neck and so on. I can go to Church and freely practice my faith. Do I get offended if someone says, “Happy Holidays?” No! Any words of good will are invited and welcome! Am I offended that there is a separation of church and state and my child isn’t led in prayer in a public school? No. We do our praying at home. If you want your child to be brought up in a Christian school, there is the option of private schools and homeschooling. I know those aren’t feasible for everybody, but I do believe my child’s public school does a good job of teaching morals. I can do the rest as a parent. That’s my job, not a state run public school. When I was in high school, we had a moment of silence every morning. Those who chose to, prayed. A club was started up by students in the morning to form a prayer circle before class. There was no issue in that. It just couldn’t be “run” by the school. I don’t understand why people who send their kids to a public school sometimes think that their religion trumps everyone else’s. It’s unconstitional and we have freedom of religion in our country. Practice your faith as much as you want! Just don’t push it on people who don’t have the same beliefs as you. This isn’t a country where we have to hide and do bible study in secret for fear of being put to death. THAT IS A WAR ON A RELIGION.

   This one may really get people ruffled. Am I too politically correct because I don’t like the word “retard” used as a typical word to describe anything people don’t like? Think about it. If you had a special needs child, would you like their condition to be used as an insult? No, my son does not have Down’s Syndrome. He has been called the “R” word before. When my son was diagnosed with ASD I entered into a totally different world then most parents with children have. Not a bad world, just a different world. I connected with other parents of children with disabilities and realized how hurtful that word could be. Am I too politically correct? Would you be ok calling things retarded to the parent of a child raising a child with a cognitive disability? I am fully aware people don’t mean it like it sounds. I even use to say it. When I was younger, I even use to think people were “too politically correct.” Honestly, my son is what really really changed me. I really realized that being inclusive of all people and trying my hardest not to hurt people was the right way to be.

   I can’t change the world. People will fight with each other, say terrible things and call the people with big hearts weak, too politically correct and will still yearn for the “good old days.” The good old days were only good if you were totally traditional. If you were a white, middle class male, everything was a-ok. If you were a black person, not so much. If you were a female, you didn’t have the right to vote. My mother who was born in 1948 couldn’t even wear pants to school. She lived in upstate New York and if it was cold, you could wear pants, but you still had to have a skirt over it. Nostalgia has a great way of letting us remember the good and forgetting the bad. Our minds do that. I think it’s a protective measure. So, call me too PC. I just call it trying to be a decent human being. 

Merry Christmas!