On the morning of a bone scan procedure to check to see if my cancer has come back, I’m wondering which is worse: mental illness or physical illness?
As a person who’s experienced both, I have a little bit to say on the topic. Of course, the answer to this question is highly subjective, but here goes my analysis:
I was diagnosed with bipolar illness in 1991. I was 28. For the next 24 years, I would suffer with the disease, enduring nights without sleep, terrible depressions, paranoia and, worst of all, delusions that made it difficult to exist in public places. I know I was not “normal” at this time; I was odd. Yet, despite it all, I did manage to function, holding down a part-time university teaching job, raising an autistic child, growing a freelance writing business and taking care of a home and a husband. Life with the illness was difficult, but it wasn’t impossible.
In 2011, I was diagnosed with stage two breast cancer. I was astonished that not only did I have to suffer mental illness, now I had to deal with physical illness. I felt a little like Job. Just how much was God going to pile on me? But because the cancer was only stage two, it was not completely horrifying. I knew that I had a good chance of making it, of the doctors ridding the disease from my body.
To do away with the cancer, they gave me chemotherapy, radiation treatment and a double mastectomy. After all of this, I was told that I would be on an anti-cancer medicine, Tamoxifen, for ten years.
It’s now five years later. Still on the Tamoxifen. I thought I was completely cured. But something terrible has happened. About a month ago, I started having terrible back pain. I assumed it was stress. After all, I was taking care of a lot of life “stuff” with a major mental illness. I planned to call the general practitioner and have him prescribe some muscle relaxants, but I kept putting it off. I took care of the pain with over-the-counter meds, and I got used to going to bed early, pulling the covers up around my aching body and crying myself to sleep.
My mother was very worried. I love her dearly, but she is a bit of a hypochondriac. She kept insisting that I call my oncologist. She feared that the cancer had come back.
I put this call off even more. I was convinced it wasn’t cancer; it was stress that had “settled” in my back, between my shoulder blades, to be precise.
Finally, Mom nagged me so much that I made the call and set up an appointment to be checked out.
The doctor didn’t like what I told her. She said that it was possible that my mother was correct; it was possible that the cancer had returned and had gone to my bones.
I was flabbergasted. I cried in her arms.
She ordered a complete body bone scan.
And this brings us to today.
The bone scan is in approximately two hours. The doctor said it wouldn’t hurt, and that it wouldn’t make me feel claustrophobic. Cool, I can handle that. I won’t know the results for a few days; the waiting is the worst part.
I said above that I had severe mental illness symptoms for 24 years. But it’s been 25 years since 1991. So what happened in the last year with my mental illness situation?
In a word, I recovered. I appear to be growing out of my bipolar disorder. Thankfully, the delusions that had been plaguing me for years is now completely gone. I can now go out in public and not feel uncomfortable. And I stopped getting depressed. The mania also went away; I’m sleeping nine hours a night; it’s wonderful.
It’s now Thursday. I had the scan on Tuesday. It did make me feel claustrophobic, but that’s neither here nor there. I find out the results tomorrow.
Which is worse? Mental illness or physical illness?
For me, physical illness is much worse. The cancer might be back and could keep coming back again and again. But the bipolar disorder is disappearing. (The mental illness could, of course, come back with a vengeance, but I’m hoping and praying it won’t.) It’s a no-brainer.
I’m sure my situation is unique and that everyone has her own answer to this question. It’s kind of an interesting question to ponder if you find yourself having been “blessed” with both severe mental and physical illness.
Each of us suffers in her own way. For some, mental pain is much worse than physical pain. And vice versa. And for some, an illness may diminish, as my bipolar did; or it may plague a person, as my cancer might be, returning again and again.
I tell you now, I’m saying a prayer that I don’t have cancer a second time. But I’m gearing up for the worst. If I do have bone cancer, I’m going to fight it with all my might. I have an 11-year-old child to raise.
Is there an upside to all this? There is wisdom in enduring illness. That’s about all I got out of both predicaments. I’m not complaining.
Oh yes, one gains wisdom and empathy. And my faith got a lot stronger. That’s not so bad.
“Nonjudgmentally” means we need not put a value judgment on the present moment. We are simply to experience the moment. The minute that we think this is a good moment or a bad moment, we have judged the moment.
The issue with placing judgement on our present moment means we lose a bit of the experience because in our judging, we’ve already made a determination within ourselves as to what we feel is happening. Our judgement may not be true to the experience. We may not be feeling or experiencing the moment the way that we think we are, so if we spend some time feeling what we feel before we label it as good, bad or otherwise, we might come up with a different experience.
For example, let’s say that you’re not a fan of baseball. I mention baseball as I personally do not enjoy this sport. I enjoy sports, but baseball I just don’t understand. I don’t understand how people can sit around and watch a player hit a ball, run to a base, and then stand around for some time.
Part of this judgment for me comes from my childhood. When I was really young, I played Little League baseball. I had my mitt, went to practices and enjoyed the experience. As a young kid I wasn’t complaining about being outside hitting a ball and running around. I played right field. From what I know of Major League Baseball, if you’re placed in the outfield, especially center field, you’re playing an important position!
But when you’re 5 and 6 years old, outfield is not the place you want to be. When you think about kids that age, even the best kid that we played against, the hardest hit they would have might get the ball over second base if they were lucky. My time in the outfield was therefore spent staring at the clouds, staring at the grass, or picking the dandelions. That was my baseball experience. So when somebody talks about baseball, or asks me to go to a baseball game, part of me, unconsciously, goes back to my childhood moment in Little League and so I think to myself, “You know what? That’s boring.” When someone invites me to a baseball game, and I actually go, I am going with my preconceived notions.
So where does the term “nonjudgmentally” fit in this example? If I were to go to that baseball game and consciously reflect on my experience — watching everything that’s going on, paying attention to the stats, who’s hitting, who’s catching, who’s in what position, what does this hit mean, what do these these signals from the coaching staff and the catcher mean — if I spent time focused on my current experience, not my experience from childhood, I might like the game.
It’s important for us to be aware of our judgments while we focus on the present moment. I think that’s where we end up finding our inner peace; in the letting go of our judgments in place of how we currently feel and currently live the moment. When we start to feel what we feel and take in the experience, then we learn about the life around us, and therefore we learn a bit about ourselves.
Through the process of sitting in meditation or consciously observing my daily life, that which I take in begins to influence my life. Over time we become more attuned to looking at and noticing the small things. The more that we get attuned to noticing the small things, what we’ll eventually begin to notice and encounter are the small, yet important, things within ourselves. That’s when we discover what in ourselves we need to change, so that when we make that change, we are doing so in such a way as to be mindful about it. We consciously make a thoughtful change.
To live mindfully takes daily practice, allowing for some failure along the way. A continued daily practice will eventually lead us to our inner peace. Inner peace is not far from our grasp. We have the ability to live in peace if we have the desire for peace.
But sometimes this isn’t the issue at all.
Many of Casey Dixon’s clients tell her that they have a problem with “prioritizing,” but really they have a problem with following through. “They know what they need to do and why it’s important [but] they have a hard time doing it.”
Following through on tasks is a big challenge for adults with ADHD, which is understandable, because it involves so many moving parts. It involves executive functioning, which is impaired in ADHD. So simply telling yourself (or having someone else say), “just do it” won’t work. If you could just do it, surely you already would have done it.
The good news is that that are strategies — like the ones below — that help you work around these challenges. So if follow through is tough for you, Dixon, PCC, BCC, an ADHD coach who primarily works with demand-ridden professionals with ADHD, suggested these tips to ignite action.
Create fake deadlines.
If a project is due tomorrow, individuals with ADHD might pull an all-nighter and hyper-focus to get it done. Having an urgent deadline sparks something in your brain, which helps you focus better. Dixon suggested creating a sense of urgency on purpose to capitalize on this. For instance, you have a paper due next Thursday. You tell your professor that you’ll bring a draft of your paper to office hours on Monday.
Dixon worked with an attorney who was avoiding a complicated client, which only pushed back the work. To help her take action, they decided to schedule a weekly meeting with that client. This compelled the attorney to prepare in advance.
Dixon also had another client who was having difficulty keeping her home organized. To create a sense of urgency, she started hosting a monthly dinner with friends at her house.
According to Dixon, “instead of just saying ‘that’s important to me, I should just do it,’ say, ‘This is important to me, how do I make it feel more urgent so I can do it?’” Because when you create a sense that a task is looming, it signals to your brain that this is something to pay attention to — and it helps you to act.
Set a timer.
Setting a timer also creates a sense of urgency — and it gives you a challenge, which helps with focus, too. For instance, you might set a timer for 15 minutes and see how much you can get done during that time, without any interruptions or distractions. You might make progress on everything from writing a blog post to folding laundry to reading a book.
Create a game, competition or challenge.
Make following through on your priority a fun or interesting or competitive endeavor. For instance, another client of Dixon’s felt that getting to work on time was truly important to her. She wanted to arrive at work at 9 a.m. She made a bet with a colleague that if she arrived after 9:15 a.m., she owed her lunch. This helped to keep the goal at the forefront of her mind.
Set boundaries.
Dixon suggested stepping back and asking yourself: “Where am I spending my time, energy and attention?” Since these are finite resources, it’s vital to think about how you’re using them. It’s also vital to set solid boundaries around the activities and people that divert you from what’s important to you and deplete your resources.
Dixon shared this example: A professor needs to write a research article. But his students tend to get all his time and attention. He creates a clear-cut boundary: He’ll only communicate with students during his specific office hours.
Overall, think about a place you can start. Think about what interests you about a task. What do you find enjoyable? Start with that. Don’t hesitate to get creative, either. Think about how you can make a task fascinating or fun or into a game. Think about how you can create a concrete sense of urgency. Because just doing it doesn’t work. But thankfully other strategies really do. The key is to experiment and find the strategies that genuinely support you.
Kitchen timer photo available from Shutterstock
Last year, my husband Jon wanted me to do something I didn’t want to do. Jon promised his father they would speak on the phone at a certain time. So I had to leave Connecticut earlier than I wanted (to find cell phone reception), cutting short my lovely Sunday afternoon in the country. I felt myself get “tight” in my body, angry at having to make the accommodation.
I am not proud of my selfish reaction. Nevertheless I was powerless to stop it. My body tightened and I pushed back, asking Jon in a complaining voice, “What’s the big deal if you talk to your dad later?” But Jon insisted, claiming he made a promise he wanted to keep. So we rushed out the door.
My body was still rigid as I huffed and puffed my way into the car with a disgruntled look on my face. That old familiar tightness was ready to pick a fight despite the fact that I deeply value and respect Jon for honoring his promises. But my anger had the best of me and wanted to blame and criticize Jon for anything and everything at that moment.
Feeling “tight” was a familiar state going back to my teenage years. When I was hurt, I simply got mad. Now I know that deep down I wanted someone to notice my suffering and ask me, “What’s the matter?” My parents were busy with their careers, and I had a younger sister who needed time and attention. At times, I felt like I literally had to fight to be seen or heard.
Getting angry made me feel like I was petty and ungrateful. I suffered a backlash of guilt. I knew I was a lucky girl in so many ways. So why did I react like such a brat? But, also, I needed my loved ones to know they hurt me or else I’d feel like a doormat that could be pushed around. What a difficult dilemma for my angry side and my guilty side!
Those same exact feelings were triggered by Jon’s taking care of his dad that day. This time, however, I wanted to manage my tight feeling more skillfully, in a way that did not cause a fight with my kindhearted husband or leave me feeling guilty. So I tried something different.
I was in the passenger seat, stewing. But, I wondered, what would it feel like not to avoid what I was feeling? Maybe I could learn something about the meaning of this tightness just inside my skin. I turned my attention inward and tried to stay curious and compassionate to my experience. You know how it felt? Not good! Still I waited, breathed, and then something shifted. It took about two minutes.
All of a sudden, I felt very young. The words “It’s not fair!” came into my mind. I started to cry.
Meanwhile, Jon was driving, unaware.
I flashed to a memory of me as a lonely 6-year-old wanting her mommy’s attention. And then I understood a lifetime of this tightness. I understood why this feeling was there and what it meant. A narrative formed that went like this:
When I was a little girl, I felt at times alone and unimportant, which made me sad. I couldn’t show my sadness to anyone. Perhaps I didn’t feel justified. Maybe I didn’t know how to ask for what I needed. My reaction was to get angry. That was the only way I showed my upset.
There in the car, I cried for my little Hilary. It was she who was upset that Jon was taking care of his father — that touched something very deep and meaningful in my past. I imagined my “Big Self” giving my “Little Self” a big, loving hug. I gave compassion to my Big Self, too, for having to struggle.
Then something huge happened. The wave of sadness ended and my anger melted away. My whole body softened. This was a transformational moment in my life. The only way I can explain it is that the young Hilary must have healed when I imagined hugging her and my true feelings were able to flow. I sat there quietly next to Jon, not yet ready to share my epiphany. It was mine, and I enjoyed my peace.
People heal from the everyday wounds of childhood in many different ways. Sometimes we need help. And, sometimes all we need is our Self, some curiosity, some impulse control and all the compassion we can muster.
One of my best friends suffered with anxiety for years. When he first confided in me, I was shocked. Below are items I’ve learned for helping someone with anxiety.
Anxiety disorders often involve overgeneralization.
According to Rick Nauert, PhD, people with anxiety disorders view the world differently and over-generalize stimuli. Sometimes people with anxiety disorders have a hard time mentally distinguishing a normal, everyday occurrence from a past negative situation where they observed a similar sound or visual cue. They may overgeneralize all related sounds or visual triggers with a negative emotion that in reality is totally unrelated to the present-day event.
It’s important to empathize and understand that a friend or family member suffering from anxiety can experience negative mental reactions to almost anything. The brain has an incredible ability to network together events and stimuli from a wide range of past events to shape our present perception. It’s difficult for someone with an anxiety disorder to disentangle their complex mental network.
For example, a recent study found that smartphone addiction correlates to depression and anxiety. Almost anything can affect someone in a unique and unexpected way, potentially contributing to the development of an anxiety disorder.
Defining anxiety disorders
To better understand and empathize with what a loved one might be going through, it’s important to define what an anxiety disorder can mean. According to John Grohol, Psy.D., an anxiety disorder is a situation where constant fear, panic or other physicals symptoms of anxiety begins to inhibit the living of a healthy, fulfilling life. For example, if someone is experiencing fatigue and constant muscle tension as a result of constant worry, and it’s affecting their daily life, then it’s likely an anxiety disorder.
There are a wide variety of anxiety disorders, ranging from generalized anxiety disorder (GAD) to social phobia. Each has a specific set of symptoms and reliable diagnosis requires a consultation with a clinical psychologist or psychiatrist.
Help is available.
Resources are available to help individuals with anxiety and those who love them. The first step is spending time with a friend or family member, learning about the individual’s symptoms and concerns. Encourage open and honest dialogue, but don’t push beyond their personal comfort zone. Encourage them to confide in you by building trust. Offer them a list of psychiatrists or trained medical professionals in their area. Be patient. Opening up is difficult, and accepting help can be even more challenging.
An untreated anxiety disorder can result in self-medicating. Addictions cost the U.S. billions of dollars annually. Failing to quickly seek help from qualified professionals can put an individual on a path that is both self-destructive and costly to society at large. There’s a fine line between being supportive and enabling someone who doesn’t want to take steps to get help. Focus on providing support on a path toward healing.
Be present.
According to a study published by the American Psychiatric Association (APA), being around a best friend can significantly reduce the negative effects of a stressful situation by lowering the amount of cortisol (a chemical in the brain linked to stress) in an individual experiencing stress or anxiety. The simple act of spending time with a friend or family member suffering from an anxiety disorder provides immediate relief from stress or anxiety. Loneliness and isolation, or feeling distant from familiar people, can have negative impacts on anxiety levels.
Respectfully challenge their perspective.
When your friend or family member expresses an illogical or inaccurate perspective, offer your own interpretation. Offering your advice, without calling them names or trying to make them feel stupid, is an important opportunity for them to consider a different perspective.
One method for changing a thought pattern is through meditation. Studies have backed up medical findings that meditation helps reduce anxiety, as well as other physical and emotional ailments. Encourage a friend or family member to attempt to center themselves and focus emotionally. The benefits can be quick and long-lasting.
Use positive reinforcement.
The best step toward making positive changes in life is positive reward. For example, if your friend takes steps to overcome his or her fear, you should encourage him or her. Even if he or she doesn’t succeed, the act of taking a step toward making a positive change should be met with praise.
