Goodbye Ben and Jerry, Hello Kale

 “Anything that’s human is mentionable, and anything that is mentionable can be more manageable. When we can talk about our feelings, they become less overwhelming, less upsetting, and less scary.” – Fred Rogers

The subject of mental health is one that has become increasingly recognizable in the world and mainstream within the military community. For many veterans and caregiver's mental health issues are as normal as breathing. Although talked about frequently amongst us, there still seems to be a negative connotation to the words mental illness when speaking with those outside of the military community. Even within the military community, the topic of mental illness is avoided if the spouse is active duty. The world has come a long way in normalizing mental illness, but there still seems to be a stigma attached to those who admit to battling depression or any other mental health diagnosis.

During this pandemic, I have had some significant struggles with mental health. Even before Covid-19, depression and I were more than mere acquaintances. With alcoholism running in my family, I learned at an early age to avoid that particular dependency. My personal poison is sugar. I am a hard-core sugar addict. My veteran and I have been living full time in our RV since July 2019. Imagine sharing less than 150sq ft of space with a veteran who is a 100% physically and mentally disabled. Now imagine doing that during a pandemic while sheltering in place. On top of everything, I was in my final semester of University. In a week, I went through two family-size bags of M&M’s, three large bags of Lindt Dark Chocolate Truffles, several pints of Ben and Jerry’s, and other wonderfully delicious sweeties. I was eating my pain. My panic and anxiety were nearly uncontrollable. Every day I seemed to sink further into a depressive state made worse by increasing stress from school, life, and my veteran's own deteriorating mental health. I knew that I was gaining weight, but since I lived mostly in leggings and hoodies, denial was made easy.

In May, I visited my mom in Oklahoma for Mother's Day. My sister insisted on taking pictures with my mom and then posted them on Facebook. When I saw the picture, my first reaction was ‘OMG I am so fat!’ quickly followed by ‘my sister is an evil witch for posting such an unflattering picture!’ That picture was the catalyst to a complete life change. I was tired of feeling miserable about life and myself. I had strong feelings of resentment, anger, panic, and anxiety about nearly everything. The sludge I felt on the inside was overflowing into my relationship with my veteran and other family members. One of the saving graces during this time is the bi-monthly counseling appointment with my VA caregiver coordinator. I felt that I lacked the ability to control nearly every aspect of my life. I decided to stop letting sweeties dictate my happiness or, in my case, the lack of. Together, my caregiver coordinator and I set reasonable goals for managing my stress. I started walking a mile three times a week and omitting all sweeties from my life. I’ll admit that in the beginning, it was absolutely brutal walking a mile. I felt like I was going to pass out and die from exhaustion. There were days when my veteran and I were at each other's throats, and I just wanted to be left alone with my good pals Ben & Jerry. I started keeping a daily journal. In the beginning, more often than not, I would only have the energy to write ‘life sucks, but I’m still alive.’ As the days turned into weeks and then months, my entries became more positive than negative, my body stronger, and relationships healthier.

I am now walking four-five days a week and an average of three miles. I still avoid sugar and complex carbs like the plague. I have a long way to go, but have learned to accept the changes as a permanent fixture in my life. I still struggle with depression and panic attacks, but they are manageable compared to controlling every moment of every day. When I wake up in the morning, I make the conscious choice to be happy. Some mornings are easier to make that choice than others. There are days I want to stay in bed, hide under the blankets, and disappear because I am emotionally exhausted. Being a full-time caregiver adds another level of responsibility to the necessity of maintaining a positive attitude. In the quote by Fred Rogers, as mentioned above, talking about our feelings really does help them to become more manageable. It could be that talking about them comes in the form of prayer/meditation, journaling, writing poems, art, or music. I believe it is important to utilize the resources provided through the VA and non-profits like the Coalition in regards to mentoring and counseling. These resources are lifelines and can be lifesavers. It may seem hopeless when the sludge is so deep it seems to cut off the ability to move or breathe. Trust me; there is always hope. Reaching up for help while sinking in the muck of a challenging life was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

Written by: Justina Lyn, HTH Representative & Veteran Caregiver