Drowning Part Two! Tackling Depression Head On!

Drowning Part One!
Nausea and exhaustion merged and sleep took over. I woke the next morning in my hotel room curled up in the middle of the bed hugging the pillow. Something had come over me last night and it had been cathartic. I knew I needed to do better. "Sophie is not coming back," I told myself. "The good thing is the joy she brought you for eight years," I mumbled.  I remind myself of this daily. I remember when Oprah lost one of her white Labs, Gracie after one year. She watched her die from swallowing a small toy. I had just gotten Sophie and could not  even image the pain she felt. I shuddered to think about it. I had Sophie for eight wonderful years.

As I made my morning tea I started to remember that Sophie had come to BlogHer last year with me. She was the bell of the lobby at the Sheraton Hotel and the official greeter at the MultiCulti party. I reflected on how happy she was going from arm to arm that night. I like the fact that BlogHer is dog friendly and Sophie fit right in! She was definitely Ms. Personality.

When I arrived back to Chicago I knew changes of some sort had to be made, but the moment I put my key in that door and there was no Sophie barking like crazy, dread swap over me. The worst part of being on earth without her is walking into silence each time I come home and waking in the morning without her being by my side. Adjusting to this this new life is hard, very hard. I'm not sure how long it's going to take for me to be at a better place.

My grief is real and so is my depression. I feel them in the debt of my Soul, yet there is a  part of me that is fighting, that wants to fight. I want to find a balance. I don't intend to avoid the grief but at the same time, I don't want the grief to control me. I didn't like how I felt in that hotel room in San Jose. I never want to be that self absorbed/consumed by one thing. I never want any one thing to have all of me. It's bad enough that HIV/AIDS has dictated a good portion of my life for most of my life. I want to control what I can. 

I understand that my depression is what the experts called "situational depression," which typically occurs after some sort of trauma and or traumatic changes  in your life. In my case, the sudden lost of Sophie. I'm having difficulties adjusting to the changes brought on by Sophie's passing and I just fucking miss her.

Situational depression is different for everyone as is major depression. For me, there hasn't been a day that has gone by that my heart hasn't ached for my baby girl. I've cried at least 32 of the 35 days she's been gone. 

Sleep is a far away thing that I believe will come back to me one day, but right now I haven't slept through the night if I slept at all. It takes everything and I mean EVERYTHING I got to do anything other than read and knit. And of course, I've been eating my way to hell and back.

It's been a week since BlogHer and that night in my hotel room  I consumed Reese's Peanut Butter cookies and S'mores with bacon on top. I'm proud to say that I have made some changes. No, I'm not better, I just made some changes for the better. I live in the real world and I know that it is not going to get better over night, but I have at least stopped myself from total destruction. This is my plan!!

1) Working Out! Exercise is important for me. Not only does it make me feel better overall, it actually increases endorphins. The experts say that 1 hour of exercise will work as well as anti-depressants for mild depression. Speaking of anti-depressants, the week Sophie passed I started Trazodone because it has a sleep add. I stopped last week because I don't like being groggy in the morning and still sleep deprived because sometimes  the medication helps and other times it does not. 

 BTW I got 3 days of Crossfit in last week. That's a start! If I don't make it to the gym, I make it up with the amount of walking I do. For example, I often walk home from therapy,which is about 3 miles. Or I try to take a walk on the lakefront.

2) Eating! I'm an emotional eater for sure and I have grain 10 pounds since Sophie passed.  My goal is to eat as clean as possible, which is where I was before my life changed. 

For me eating cleans means that I'm following either the Paleo Diet or Low-Fodmap diet set by my Gastroenterologist, usually, I'm somewhere in between.  Following these diets are important because they help my Irritable Bowl Syndrome. Since my eating has been whack, my body has been out of whack. I've become constipated again. This is not good!! I have no desire to be back on laxatives again. Remember the fiasco? The benefit of eating clean is weight control.

3) Not Setting Myself up for Failure! Because I'm such an emotional eater, what I bring into my house is important. On top of that, life is to short to deprive myself of sugar. *shrugs* I like dessert after a meal, always have, always will. To be sure, I don't want to over indulge. I make sure that I have fruit in the house at all times. I also buy popcorn in small bags like Skinny Pop or Trader Joe's Lite Kettle Corn.

I get cookies that go far in portion size verses calories.  For example, Trader Joe's Ginger Snaps, are 130 calories  for 6 cookies. By the time I reach the fifth cookie that impulse to eat has passed and the damage is minimum. BTW, they have them in tons of different flavors. Now, with those big ass cookies I was eating in San Jose, I had to be taking in close to 500-800 calories a cookie.

4) Therapy! I missed a lot of my therapy appointments prior to Sophie passing because of my health. Remember I was at home shut down on IV medication, then the liposuction procedure? Then our July routine was thrown off by scheduling for both me and my therapist.  I'm back at it, no missed appointments. This is an important part of my life. Therapy is a neutral place to process my pain without any judgments or expectations. It always leads me to a good place.

5) Be Kind to Myself! If I don't follow through on any of the above. I forgive myself at night and wake to a new day with fresh possibilities.

6) I'm getting another dog! I know that I cannot replace Sophie, nor would I ever try. In fact, all of my dogs have had there own personality and brought something different and wonderful to my life. But I've learned something new about myself in the last 35 days since Sophie's death. I need whatever it is a dog brings to my life and whatever it is that I bring to theirs. This is the first time in 21 years that I've been without a poodle and I'm not going to deprive myself because I cannot have Sophie. Stay Tuned!

Coping with lost of any sort is hard. Each of us must figure out the best path that will lead to the best outcomes. The darkness will pass if we don't fight against the darkness, like going against the gain. The darkness will pass if you don't plant yourself in the darkness, holding onto it for the life of you. It will pass, for nothing stays the same. Remember, no experience is ever wasted, not even moments of  darkness. As for me, I'm sure when the light starts to trickle through the darkness, I will look back and say, Aha, I see what was learned in these moments of darkness.

Tackling Grief...

Grief is a monster! I'm learning that it also sticks to you like Gorilla glue. Honestly, these last three weeks dealing with the lost of Sophie has been new territory for me. I've never felt this level of sorrow for anything even when I lost my first two dogs. When Imani died I was sad and I cried a lot, but it didn't effect my bottom line. She had lived 12 years and while I was very sad, I was not overwhelmed. I had also done everything possible for her lung disease and was at peace with that fact. Of course I still had Nambi, who was Imani's baby and she was my constant companion. I had Nambi for 16 years. She and Sophie overlapped for almost four years. When I put Nambi down, I felt like she had lived a long and good life. I blogged about Nambi when I first started. You can read it here.

Imani and Nambi

When I put Nambi down there was Sophie, who was full of life and demanding.  She was not having it; not too many sad moments in my house. Sophie even knew the difference from when I was actually sick, verses those days filled with depression. On those days, she insisted that we get out of bed. Her mission in life seemed to make sure that I lived in my life. She accomplished her mission. There was never a dull moment in my house with Sophie.

Sophie Demanding Attention!

Maybe that's why losing her has taken me for a loop. She was the life of the party each and every day. I'm sure loosing her unexpectedly and at a mid age has also impacted my grief level. The average  Poodle lives 12-15 years. Maybe my grief is also impacted by the fact this is the first time that I have been without a dog in 21 years.

What I know for sure is that my grief is all consuming. Even with the lost of my mothers, both of them, I didn't feel this kind of sadness. I remember my friend, recording artist, Teresa Griffin telling me that she cried more over  the death of  her little Pomeranian Poppy, then her father and she loved her father dearly.

I know some people want me to move on, but its not so simple. While there's no easy way to deal with grief, I'm learning to tackle it head on.

For sure avoiding it or pretending that you are not hurting will only send you into a deeper depression. Right now my depression is what my doctor calls "situational depression," but if I don't deal with it in a healthy manner, it could become long term.

It's no secret that I have dealt with depression living with HIV/AIDS. However prior to Sophie, I was doing well. In fact, a few months ago my doctor and I decided for me to take a  break from anti-depressants, to give my body a break. For sure less drugs are always better. But that first week I lost Sophie, I  was popping valium just to sleep. I knew that had to stop, so I switched to an antidepressant that would help me sleep with the advice of my doctor

I'm also an emotional eater and the last two weeks I have eaten more comfort food then I had in the last 6 months. The end result has been weight gain, but I had to decide which battle I could fight effectivity, so I'm going with the flow.

 It was way to much pressure forcing myself to eat "clean" and deal with the grief at the same time. I took the pressure off before it sent me into self- loathing and a deeper depression. I'm finding that with the pressure off, I tend to have a tad more balance. I'm living in the now. I don't punish myself if I don't have the balance, I just start with each new meal or snack and accept that which is. In time, I'm sure that healthy choices will become my norm again. The thing about me is that I never seem to let one thing control my life forever. I tend to regain control in time. Going with the flow is the theme of the hour, even with activities.  If I feel like it, I do it, if I don't, then I don't. Nothing is forced. I wait until my heart is in it before I do it. Added pressure leads to added depression. I want to get through this, not stay in it, so I'm using the methods that work best for me. There is no one way to tackle grief I think we all have to do what feels right.

Working out is also helping my mood swings. I find that the days  I do Crossfit, I tend to be less sad. I know working out does increase your serotonin. After the BlogHer Conference this week, I'm hoping to get back to five days a week.

One of the most cathartic things I've done is to turn Sophie's Instagram account into a memorial page. I go there and post  pictures and while there is an element of sadness to it, it also reminds me how special she was and how much joy she brought to my life and that always makes me smile. Equally importantly, it keeps me grounded, looking at her pictures and remembering in this way, reminds me that it is for sure better to have had her, then to not have had her at all.  It also reminds me that she was such a happy dog and to have her suffer would have been worst than her death for both of us.

I'm not sure how long it's going to take me to get to a better place and I'm not putting pressure on nor am I allowing others to put pressure on me.  If someone is tired of me talking about her then don't talk to me. Tried of me posting about her and my feeling about losing her on Social Media then unfollow me. Don't make me hide my emotions because you don't understand, care, or its depressing. Wonder how I feel to be the one experiencing the lost.

It is what it is. I miss Sophie terribly so and I'm giving myself the time. This grief that I'm feeling will go away in time. I will always miss her but the hurt I'm sure will soften in time. For sure, I'm not totally stuck anymore. I can see improvement from that first week I put her down when I didn't even wash my body or a dish. Three weeks in, I am back to work, blogging, working on RLT Collection trying to get my site up to date and preparing for BlogHer 2014, I think that is progress. The one thing that I don't intend to do is fill my life up with activity as a well to avoid the pain. I'm allowing my grief to go through a natural process on it's own terms so that I can emerge a better person to have experience this lost. They say what does not kill you, makes you stronger.

Losing Sophie..

Two weeks ago today I stopped living after I put my baby girl Sophie down. Like for real, for real. Honest to God, I have never felt grief on this magnitude. While I still had breath in my body, my life stood still. Sophie was a special dog that left a foot print on everyone she encountered. For a moment I didn't think that I could go on. The grief was all consuming but like with most things in my life,  I kept going in spite of the pain. So here I am, still missing my baby girl and adjusting to life without her. 

The last time I blogged was to tell you that Sophie had Liver Cancer. I thought that I had a week to find a solution but Sophie took a turn for the worst that night within hours of posting that blog. She didn't want to eat or walk and her breathing became erratic. I felt so helpless as the night progressed. The only thing I knew to do was to be as close to her as I could. She didn't want to sleep in the bed, so I made a pallet on the hardwood floor next to the big chair in my living room that she laid under. It was one of the longest nights of my life. She was restless and breathless. Every time she moved, I moved. When she got water I watched her until she was back under the chair resting. A few times she laid under my arms and then on the pallet, but mostly under the chair was her comfort zone. 

By day break with almost no sleep Sophie was struggling just to breath. My baby girl was slipping before my eyes and I didn't know how to save her. It's still hard to believe that less than a week before this day, she was barking for bacon. Determined to make the plan Dr. Gill and I agreed on work, Tiara held Sophie in her lap as I gave her each medication. She looked up with sad eyes, "No mommie I don't want it," but it was all I could think to do. 

In the two hours waiting on the animal clinic to open I prayed for a miracle as Sophie precious eyes cried, "help me Mommie, help me." I was asking for God's help and she was asking for my help.  When I finally reached Dr. Gill and filled her in on the night, I was still hoping for a solution; a way to help my baby girl. After I finished, Dr. Gill said, "You know there are only two choices and I'm not sure that she can make it through surgery.  "I know, I know" I said defeated and filled with anogny, with my baby girl next to me looking up at me, "Help me Mommie, help me." There was a pause, "Are you ready?" Dr Gill asked. Through my tears came, "yes."

Tiara and I rode in silence to the clinic while baby girl laid in my arms trying her best to catch her breath. "I'm sorry baby girl, Mommie loves you," I whispered to her. Once we arrived, Tiara and I took pictures with Sophie before I handed her to Dr. Gill to place the catheter. 

She was in so much distress, Dr. Gill looked at her, "That baby can't get her breath," she said to Sophie. Tiara stood in the corner tears flowing.  I stood over sophie lying on the table still trying to get her breath. I was so overwhelmed with grief. "Thank you Sophie for eight wonderful years," I whispered to her, "Mommie will always love you." 

Watching my baby girl die was one of the hardest things I've had to do, but yet at the same time I knew it was the best thing, most human thing. It was the last good thing that I could do for her.  

Sophie Barking For Bacon 5 Days before I put her to rest.. Her BFF Kennedy was just hanging in the cut waiting... LOL... She barked for bacon ever morning I cooked... She barked for a treat each time I had a meal, it was our routine. She was so full of life the entire 8 years she was with me. I'm  glad that her suffering was not long, but I'm sad she had to go. I miss her dearly...

Nambi: My Small Miracle!

Panic, terror and then guilt rushed through my head as I grabbed my baby who was choking to death. I tried to remember all the movies I had seen where they performed the Heimlich maneuver but my memory could gather no technique. All I could think to do was squeeze her stomach and stick my finger down her throat as her body was stiffening. I could see that she was fighting, trying to free herself from the terror that she was experiencing. I cried out to God, “Not now! I can’t take any more hurt!” I can’t lose her I thought. I cried louder, “Help me Lord! I don’t know how to save my baby.”

Guilt rushed though my body like a Chicago wind chill. I knew at fifteen, with bad teeth, that crouton was too hard for her to chew. I knew better! But she was barking and I was anxious to get back to work. This blog had taken center stage. I only had three more days before the launch. I needed to write. I needed peace.

But now, everything had stopped. My baby Nambi was fighting for her life. I was helpless. I remembered Oprah watching her Gracie die before her eyes and was saddened. Like Oprah, I wanted to make sense of it all. Two minutes into the ordeal I had already started to spin her death in my head. She had given me 15 great years. She was a wonderful companion, especially in those early years of my transition to AIDS when the quality of my life was reduced to home and bed when I wasn't out speaking. On those days, when my body was racked with fatigue and side-effects from my medications, Nambi would lay on the pillow over me and never move. She became my guardian angel and a reflection of my alter ego. She has been often called “Little Rae.” My significant other looked at me one day recently and declared, “That dog is just like you."

Nambi when she was young. She had so much hair! She's almost bald now.

Yes, Nambi has lived a long life far beyond her expectancy. In many ways, she is my alter ego, a fighter, defying the odds, just like me. I remember when the vet told me to put her to sleep three years ago. I cried and cried, and delayed and delayed. I had just gotten Sophie, who brought life to our house. Within weeks, Nambi had bounced back and was her old self. The vet thinks that Sophie saved her life. Now, Nambi is just old and you don’t put old people to sleep so why put an old dog to sleep? She’s been blind for two years but she finds everything she needs. She has a heart murmur and a small tumor on her liver but she is in no pain. Her collapsed trachea makes her breathing more labored at times but, for the most part, my old Diva is hanging in there. Yes, Diva. She won’t even sit on the bare floor. For real. I know death is for certain, but I didn't want it to be at my hands, that’s an experience I never want to have. I watched the vet as he put my Imani, Nambi’s mother to sleep and it took over two years for me to recover. I am certain I cannot watch another of my dogs die.

Nothing was changing, as I attempted to perform the Heimlich maneuver, squeezing her back and stomach, alternating with my finger down her throat. She was clearly choking to death. “Oh God, help me! Not this way,” I cried out. And after what seemed like an eternity, her face started to relax and her eyes popped back into place. I took a deep breath and then placed my finger down her throat again just to be sure. Her breathing was labored but she seemed ok. I put her down. She could walk but she was clearly shaken. The crouton didn't come out so it must have gone down. I picked her up, sat down and held her in my arms. I slumped over her body, and the tears starting streaming down. I was so grateful for this small miracle

Her old lady diva picture