Comments on: moving on

By: cartoon trying to lift up a weight

cartoon trying to lift up a weight — Mon, 06 Oct 2008 20:38:46 +0000

cartoon trying to lift up a weight…

There are various claims that bovine colostrum boosts IGF-1, however, after doing some research on this at pubmed, it does not appears…

By: jenG

jenG — Tue, 10 Jun 2008 22:41:51 +0000

One last thing…. I too thought I lost something but perhaps it is our minds and our stories that make us feel this way. The moving on and the journey may not be one “going back” but rather one of going inside. You are not alone. I can certainly say for me and my experience , to go inside I needed a guide, in my case Robin my mentor. If I went alone I went into the dark stories and sadness full force with no gentleness or kindness. I would get caught in my web of stories that dominoed into more sadness. Robin was there to invite me in simple ways to really listen, to check in with parts of my body, to come down from my mind and head and leave the story for a little while. For me, my depression is nasty and can take on the feel of an agitated adolescent or child screaming for change or attention or just a deep childlike sadness for what I do not have. This has been quite a journey. It’s been amazing being able to find a way even if for an hour, to love myself thru these times as my mother would have or as my wise self wants to love me. When I am patient, little by little the dark depression’s voice gets softer and I can hear the words of others who understand and of that wise part that just knows. No words just a feeling of yes, you are sad and I am here. Sometimes that is all I need. I wish you moments of a safe feeling in the depression, like “it’s okay to be sad about this.” And times where your wise self guides you to what you need.

got to run…. love to you

By: jenG

jenG — Tue, 10 Jun 2008 22:23:48 +0000

hello honest amazing brave sharer We do not know each other but I came across your blog last week by way of Andrea Sher and Denise, Boho Girl… there is such beauty in how a community grows and despite the miles we are forever changed by someone’s words or brave sharing…. there is so much I want to write to you but in a nutshell…. here it goes. I am an Expressive Arts Therapist livin’ in the Boston, MA area, who is as sensitive as you. I have been working as a crisis clinician for 3 years at a Crisis Team that has been seeping all creativity from me, doing evaluations mostly in Emergency rooms when people are at the end of their hope and no art groups. Long story short I came across your blog and thought …wow she provides a safe place for kids to create and seems to be pretty empathic too. Your blog offerred me hope to soon leave my job. Honestly, I wondered how I could do this with my financial fears etc but there was hope in your pictures, in your posts and I have just felt like it is possible to create the needed safe spaces to be sad, to create, to be messy and teary and snotty despite your age. I too have bouts of deep depression and anxiety as well as wonderful moments of clarity mixed in. It’s tough but I think in sharing our stories we are able to move into a community of safe ones who understand, or snuggle into the warmth for a bit or just know the hope is there.

For me when I am in the darkness, the first thing that usually goes is the caring for my body, it’s like I move on into my head space full of stories and disregard the rest of me. I take a low dose of Celexa too. MOst important to my story is the work I do with my mentor who is amazing. Her name is Robin and actually she lives in CA. We talk by phone weekly and it has been the best “therapy”, focusing, mentor relationship I have ever ever had in my entire life. I have seen a therapist since age 10 when my mom died so this has been a long journey to this point.

Robin has introduced me to the parts of me who are strong and not beat up. She also expanded my own knowledge of writers and artists who have definitely helped my life as well as how I work with clients. From Cheri Huber to Geneen Roth to Debbie Ford and Carolyn Myss to SARK. Email me directly if you would like to see her web site, her own writings are FULL of support.

McCabe I ahev to go now but please know you are so loved and so needed and by sharing your story you have had a wonderful ripple effect out into a community of people in your tribe The support is here…. but also I want to invite you to become more acquainted with that amazing strong part of you too. Love and hope, Jen G

By: Allergies Tell Your Doctor If

Allergies Tell Your Doctor If — Tue, 11 Mar 2008 02:33:12 +0000

Your Dogs Skin Allergies Â– A Guide To Treatment And Prevention…

Your dog’s body has a remarkable immune system of antibodies, which are protein substances produced by cells called lymphocytes, that destroy antigens that invade the body, such as viruses and bacteria….

By: Hot Garden Fountain Freak

Hot Garden Fountain Freak — Wed, 27 Feb 2008 11:50:52 +0000

Hot Garden Fountain Freak…

Although i totally disagree with you, i still appreciate you\’re post. (but you\’re wrong here )…

By: Eileen

Eileen — Sun, 17 Feb 2008 14:52:58 +0000

Hi McCabe,
I know this was posted a while ago, but I was compelled to share my story with you.
I have struggled with depression on and off since childhood. I just thought I was “sensitive” and tried to buck up and “deal”- I’m from NJ, sarcastic ribbing is part of the gene pool up there I swear.
I have sought therapy and struggled through my mother’s passing as well as a divorce within six months of each event- without meds. I thought it was some sort of badge of courage to not be on meds- weird and I’m not sure what that is about.
Just this last year after the shooting at my school, a situation in my relationship, and the overall stresses of a doctoral program- I found myself on meds with a diabetes diagnosis. I was so zonked on the meds at first and needed friends to drive me everywhere- I felt like a failure. But, they helped and I’ve stayed on them to ensure I don’t have to deal with anxiety or depression as I go through the many changes with my diabetes meds. It does feel like a different world to me now and I’m thank- full for that.
Blessings to you as you go through your journey and know you are never alone in this struggle. (((hugs)))
A new friend, Eileen.

By: chloe

chloe — Mon, 21 Jan 2008 05:50:01 +0000

I’m fourteen and not very much into the blog scene; i never saw your pictures or your writing before very recently. i wanted to say how this post resonated with me, as I’m sure it has with many people.
i know that in almost every situation depression is hard to understand and come to terms with, like it is for me, as a teenager and a girl, and as something that is so easy to write off. it’s because of people like you that the burden has become more visible and therefore less lonely; that the shame is easier to cope with, the stigma and the isolation as well.

thank you.

By: Belinda

Belinda — Mon, 07 Jan 2008 21:53:58 +0000

I’ve been skating around this thread for months now, too afraid to contribute to all these wonderful words.

But today, I’ve decided to be brave. Noone will read these words probably, but at least I will know that I have written them. The bravery won’t last long, so I better get to it:

2006 turned out to be a terrible year for me in many respects. I was in a soul-destroying job which killed any self-respect or confidence that I ever had, I was in a failing relationship, I was still recovering from a miscarriage the previous year (contributing to the second factor) and, above all, I felt scared and lonely. At the time I was living in a big city with few friends and no real friends, with noone I could confide in.

And with this, I dropped my basket.

I remember very very little about this time, I was locked down in that awful numb dissociative haze that occurs with severe depression. What I do remember is clearing my desk at work, walking down the streets sobbing, and then finding myself on the edge of a train platform (platform 1). It was the middle of June, a sunny warm day and it was 15.33pm. I didn’t jump. I intended to, but then thought of all the times the trains on this line had been cancelled due to other people who couldn’t face life anymore, and I didn’t have it in me to disrupt people’s journeys home. Seriously, that was what stopped me.
I took the next train home, walked into my house agents and told them that I needed to leave. No later than the following week. They must have seen my face or felt the vibes, because they let me go without a word, and even gave me some of the furniture that I liked to take with me. I’ll always love them for that.

I then took the train back into work (where I should have been the entire time) and quit right there on the spot.

I called my family and they drove down 3 hours the next day and bought me back to sanctuary.

In terms of my body: I put on a great deal of weight, I had 24/7 stomach pains which often led me retching in the bathroom at random intervals. I couldn’t breathe properly (hyperventilation occured on a daily basis), my pulse was about 150 at rest, I continually felt like I was about to pass out, and I was sleeping all the time (when I wasn’t panicking). I didn’t even realise that I was in such a state of high anxiety, as it creeps up on you without warning and without making a noise.

Now, 18 months later, I am living in a far quieter, more rural area (by the ocean no less), I am holding a job down successfully and I am happy to be on my own for the time being. But most importantly, I am able to see the light at the end of the tunnel and see a way in which I can be truly happy in my soul. I still have some panic attacks but far fewer and I can now control them, and I am able to go out and actually do things again. I never thought I would experience any of this again, and that means more to me than anything else I think.

By: Helena

Helena — Sat, 17 Nov 2007 06:38:25 +0000

I am a new lurker, but I just wanted to say that I was comforted by your words … thank you!

By: Calissa

Calissa — Sat, 17 Nov 2007 05:35:53 +0000

Hey love,
thinking of you,
sending hugs,
wishing I could lift that depression right off your sweet heart.
Wishing that for you, me, and so many others.
I’m holding you close here in Baltimore.
You are not alone.
And you have over 100 comments.
WOW.
Your words and your truth have touched many.
Love you, sweet mccabe.