Lots of words
Ok. So I haven't blogged in months. MONTHS!
So long in fact that my blog had disappeared from the landscape, moving to our new house and from Telus (where I had hosted it) over to Shaw. I didn't even notice. This is not good. I haven't commented on anyone's blogs, haven't read them, nothing!
This ends now! I hope. I've made this promise before, and didn't keep it. But let's hope this works this time.
--------------------------
Just a warning... the post below is very personal. You might not want to read it. Go ahead and read it if you want, but don't say I didn't warn you.
--------------------------
So ball season has come to end for another year. This leaves me with scores of time. Most of which is spent with the family, which is a good thing because I'm pretty certain Steph was right about to kill me as the three months of me being not around all too often, what with games and practices and such. So most of the time is being spent making up for the last three months.
Now that's not to say that I don't miss it. I miss it terribly... although not necessarily for the simple reason that I love coaching and love the girls and love the sport.
A little backstory here would probably help... back in October I finally admitted that for the last ... probably six months (so since the late Winter) I had been slowly dropping back into a severe depression. While that's something I often dip into from time to time, I've always been able to kick it myself. This time, it wasn't the same. It was brutal. In November, I spoke with my doctor and went on antidepressants (which I'd been on ten years earlier) as I knew there was no way I was going to escape the completely non-functional state I'd gotten into over the last few months. I was litterally numb and was probably at the lowest place I'd ever been.
Unfortunately, it didn't help. In late November (or early December, I can't recall), I began to have severe anxiety attacks. The last major one I had was so severe I ended up in the hospital for most of the day. It was so extreme that I am very glad I was not alone at home when it happened. I don't know what would have been the result. But it could have been very, very bad.
Anyway, being hospitalized ended up getting me on some MORE drugs, ones intended to calm me down and prevent the anxiety attacks. It did... although it made me quite numb. Not numb in the way I was before with the depression (which was still there), but numb as in not much would phase me. I liked being on them for a little while... I felt very relaxed and calm. But that wasn't the way to deal with the issues.
So, slowly, ever so slowly, I went off the "calming" drugs and kept increasing, slighly, the antidepressants. I eventually, probably around February, got to a point where I was feeling less numb and less depressed. Enough that I could start to clearly think about things. Clearly assess where I was at, mentally.
I talked to my psychologist about me seeing a therapist. This decision was partly prompted by Stephanie's urging, her mother's urging, and my own decision that I needed to get to the root of a lot of the behaviours and thoughts I'd had over the last ... decade? ... which had led to some unfortunate situations and some very depressed episodes.
Where am I going with all this backstory? As I started going through the work with the therapist, I discovered a lot of things about myself. I tend to overwork myself. I have an incessant and somewhat insatiable need for approval. I have very irrational drops and doubts in my self-esteem and self-image. What is the root of all this? Well, we're still working on that. That's a long, long road.
But where I'm going with all this (and having started talking about the ball season being over) is that I only started to get out of my debilitating funk during the season. I know that the "high" I get from coaching is significant. Huge, even. The approval I get from the girls, their parents, the reward I get from our success, seeing them improve, and the physical love I have for the sport and everything associated with it (I feel butterflies every time I look at a freshly lined, untouched ball diamond, especially when I'm the only one around). For the first time in nearly a year, I started feeling whole again. I started to feel like myself again. As the season went on, I felt more and more like me again, to the point now where I'm now in a place where I can write this. In a place where I can assess and discover my triggers, what causes my anxiety attacks and my depressions. I can discover the root of some of my behaviours, and fix what needs fixing.
The problem is, I'm terrified that without the season, without the highs I get from the sport, I might fall back again. I know that I have my family that I can turn to, but I didn't do that last year. I let myself fall into a brutal depression that could have ended very, very badly for me and everyone I care about.
What if I let that happen again? I know right now I wouldn't, I know right now I won't let that happen because I'm in a healthy, positive space. But what if I start to slip? What if I'm not able to stop my triggers enough? The combination of my family, ball, and my friends, was huge.
The biggest fear is a significant hit just happened at the company that I work for. A hit so significant that it may cause the company to close, or may result in me needing to move on. This company is one that allows me a great deal of flexibility (being the COO and part owner doesn't hurt). I'm terrified that if I need to find work elsewhere, that I will not be afforded the ability to coach. It requires a lot of flexibility on the part of my employer and family. The family, for the most part, can handle it. A potential future employer may not.
And I know that I just can't let myself get back to where I was six months ago.
I'm out of words now. Bye.
So long in fact that my blog had disappeared from the landscape, moving to our new house and from Telus (where I had hosted it) over to Shaw. I didn't even notice. This is not good. I haven't commented on anyone's blogs, haven't read them, nothing!
This ends now! I hope. I've made this promise before, and didn't keep it. But let's hope this works this time.
--------------------------
Just a warning... the post below is very personal. You might not want to read it. Go ahead and read it if you want, but don't say I didn't warn you.
--------------------------
So ball season has come to end for another year. This leaves me with scores of time. Most of which is spent with the family, which is a good thing because I'm pretty certain Steph was right about to kill me as the three months of me being not around all too often, what with games and practices and such. So most of the time is being spent making up for the last three months.
Now that's not to say that I don't miss it. I miss it terribly... although not necessarily for the simple reason that I love coaching and love the girls and love the sport.
A little backstory here would probably help... back in October I finally admitted that for the last ... probably six months (so since the late Winter) I had been slowly dropping back into a severe depression. While that's something I often dip into from time to time, I've always been able to kick it myself. This time, it wasn't the same. It was brutal. In November, I spoke with my doctor and went on antidepressants (which I'd been on ten years earlier) as I knew there was no way I was going to escape the completely non-functional state I'd gotten into over the last few months. I was litterally numb and was probably at the lowest place I'd ever been.
Unfortunately, it didn't help. In late November (or early December, I can't recall), I began to have severe anxiety attacks. The last major one I had was so severe I ended up in the hospital for most of the day. It was so extreme that I am very glad I was not alone at home when it happened. I don't know what would have been the result. But it could have been very, very bad.
Anyway, being hospitalized ended up getting me on some MORE drugs, ones intended to calm me down and prevent the anxiety attacks. It did... although it made me quite numb. Not numb in the way I was before with the depression (which was still there), but numb as in not much would phase me. I liked being on them for a little while... I felt very relaxed and calm. But that wasn't the way to deal with the issues.
So, slowly, ever so slowly, I went off the "calming" drugs and kept increasing, slighly, the antidepressants. I eventually, probably around February, got to a point where I was feeling less numb and less depressed. Enough that I could start to clearly think about things. Clearly assess where I was at, mentally.
I talked to my psychologist about me seeing a therapist. This decision was partly prompted by Stephanie's urging, her mother's urging, and my own decision that I needed to get to the root of a lot of the behaviours and thoughts I'd had over the last ... decade? ... which had led to some unfortunate situations and some very depressed episodes.
Where am I going with all this backstory? As I started going through the work with the therapist, I discovered a lot of things about myself. I tend to overwork myself. I have an incessant and somewhat insatiable need for approval. I have very irrational drops and doubts in my self-esteem and self-image. What is the root of all this? Well, we're still working on that. That's a long, long road.
But where I'm going with all this (and having started talking about the ball season being over) is that I only started to get out of my debilitating funk during the season. I know that the "high" I get from coaching is significant. Huge, even. The approval I get from the girls, their parents, the reward I get from our success, seeing them improve, and the physical love I have for the sport and everything associated with it (I feel butterflies every time I look at a freshly lined, untouched ball diamond, especially when I'm the only one around). For the first time in nearly a year, I started feeling whole again. I started to feel like myself again. As the season went on, I felt more and more like me again, to the point now where I'm now in a place where I can write this. In a place where I can assess and discover my triggers, what causes my anxiety attacks and my depressions. I can discover the root of some of my behaviours, and fix what needs fixing.
The problem is, I'm terrified that without the season, without the highs I get from the sport, I might fall back again. I know that I have my family that I can turn to, but I didn't do that last year. I let myself fall into a brutal depression that could have ended very, very badly for me and everyone I care about.
What if I let that happen again? I know right now I wouldn't, I know right now I won't let that happen because I'm in a healthy, positive space. But what if I start to slip? What if I'm not able to stop my triggers enough? The combination of my family, ball, and my friends, was huge.
The biggest fear is a significant hit just happened at the company that I work for. A hit so significant that it may cause the company to close, or may result in me needing to move on. This company is one that allows me a great deal of flexibility (being the COO and part owner doesn't hurt). I'm terrified that if I need to find work elsewhere, that I will not be afforded the ability to coach. It requires a lot of flexibility on the part of my employer and family. The family, for the most part, can handle it. A potential future employer may not.
And I know that I just can't let myself get back to where I was six months ago.
I'm out of words now. Bye.
