mood disorder

“Mom” 8.27.21

Samantha Jane Buice

I am grateful beyond words for my mom. I am her firstborn. She has always kept me out of harm’s way. She encouraged me as a child and as an adult to reach for my dreams, work for them, and achieve them. I realize how lucky I am. She is one of my greatest loves. I have many loves in my life, and thanks to her, I not only have Mom and Dad. She gave me three wonderful sisters. My mom is not only the bearer of daughters. She is my best friend.

When I was a child, I was very particular about clothing. I wouldn’t wear tights, hated elastic, and never wore shorts or pants. I didn’t want to wear tight fitting clothes. If I had my way, I would have run around naked. Before my chest developed, I pretty much did. I normally wore loose dresses that I picked out. I was all about comfort, without a care for fashion. It bothered my mom to no end. I would try to get away with wearing a dress several days in a row, and all of my family members–immediate and extended–remember a specific green dress.

Mom and I got into huge fights about my wardrobe. I pitched angry fits. One day, she handed me to Dad and he ended the dressing battles. The rules were that I came up the stairs, lifted my arms, and twirled around so he could smell me. If I didn’t smell like a “little goat” (as my mom would refer to me upon sniffing my forehead), I could wear whatever I wanted, much to Mom’s chagrin. My relationship with my mom began to strengthen after our frustrations subsided. I love my mom, and I always have. It is difficult to relay that message when you have had a big fight.

My mom has been with me through thick and thin. I am tired of talking about the hospital, which I think is a very good step away. One last time. Mom was devastated. She had to go to work every day knowing where I was, thinking about me, and telling no one. At one point, I didn’t recognize her. Still she fought to bring me home, knowing in her heart that I would return. She brought me her homemade bread when I wasn’t eating. I devoured it. There is no way to turn down that bread. Absolutely no way.

In my adult life, we have spent a lot of time together. I visit her and Dad every Saturday for breakfast; sometimes she stops by my house for coffee. Often we have walked together. We have been on many road trips and she is good company. She decorates her house for my birthday every year no matter how old I get, and makes my favorite cupcakes (red velvet with cream cheese icing). When Rush and I got married, she planned the whole day and helped to make it the best day of my life. She makes my whole life special.

My mom is a huge part of my life, and without her I would be lost. She is my guiding star.

–SJB

“Christmas in July” 8.6.21

Samantha Jane Buice

I am soaking in the melody of this morning, as my dog and husband are sleeping. The early birds are catching worms and the crickets haven’t yet realized that night is over. The small quiet sounds are peaceful; I am listening to the day awakening. Sometimes lack of noise on the outside invites thoughts and regrets on the inside. Recently, my family celebrated “Christmas in July” literally, as we were not able to gather for the real festivities last year. I don’t think we always appreciate the wonderful people in our lives. I had a month to catch up with my little sister, Jessica, before she moved across the country. I wish I had spent more time with her, but if I look deeper, I see that our time together was valuable and good quality. There are always regrets and things we could have done differently. Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda.

One problem with our pretend Christmas was that it was supposed to be my parents and all of my sisters and brothers. We weren’t all present. We had planned very far in advance so that we could set the date in everyone’s calendar. We were missing my sister, Amy–who suddenly found herself buried in work on Saturday and Sunday–and my brother, Rob, who usually doesn’t go anywhere without her. The family dynamic is thrown off balance when any of my family members are absent from group gatherings. Every member of our family carries a different candle, and when a candle is absent, that bit of darkness is distinguishable.

Mom rented a boat on Sunday to increase the fun factor of “Christmas in July,” and we spent the day on the lake. Logan (our dog) spent the day at his sister’s house because he is little, doesn’t have a life jacket, and can’t swim. Not a good combination. I think he had a better time in the yard than he would have on the boat, despite his love for sun bathing.

It was a great day. A day without worries or obligations. If you didn’t wear sunscreen, it was noticeable later. We swam in the lake, had a picnic, and felt the wind in our hair.

There is no better way to be reminded of what you have until you almost lose it. While my sister, Jessica, was here I was in the mindset that even when she lived far away, she would always be around; she would probably return to our part of the country one day. I took her for granted. She and Dad drove the truck and trailer to Virginia to gather her possessions and then headed to her new home in Portland. When they were two hours from their destination, they were moving slowly and about to stop for gas. The driver behind them was coming up fast and not paying attention. Luckily, my dad is a good driver and noticed this in his side mirror. He told Jessica, her dog, and two cats to “Hold on.” They were hit hard from behind; the truck and trailer flipped and landed right side up. The truck, trailer, and most of Jessica’s belongings were totaled. Dad, Jessica, her dog and two cats walked away physically unscathed.

Every night since, I have had a hard time falling asleep because I cannot shake the fact that I almost lost two of my favorite people in this world. This near-death experience amplifies the voice in my head that screams, “Appreciate them! Love them! Spend every moment with those you love as if it is your last chance.” I will never take them for granted again. Let this be a lesson that no one is invincible and we must love as deeply as we possibly can.

–SJB

“Depression: The Burden” 5.28.21

Samantha Jane Buice

I am not currently depressed, but that’s because I am heavily medicated. I know that more than a handful of people are feeling anxious and depressed right now. It’s hard to stay indoors for days, fearful of a deadly virus which, in all actuality, is not completely gone. We are going about our daily lives trying to pick up the pieces where we left off, but there is a new normal and I believe we are celebrating too soon. This is negative thinking, but when you are depressed everything is stressful, including the state of the country and the fate of human kind.

I have an emotional support dog named Logan. He likes to ride on my shoulder all the time. When we ride in the car he snuggles in tight behind my neck, as I am his human seatbelt. He used to be much smaller, but now weighs a little under ten pounds. Carrying him is a bit more challenging but not impossible. Every case of depression is different, but when I am depressed I barely have the energy to talk, laugh or smile. I am physically and emotionally drained. I carry the burden of depression on my shoulders like baggage weighing much more than the weight of my dog.

When I am suffering through this mood, I want nothing more than to lie down and distract myself with a tv show or a really good book. I recommend medication because it has changed my life, but it is not everyone’s cup of tea.

Depression has a sneaky way of entering your mind. It is much easier to give in, give up, and feel defeated. Taking care of ourselves and processing these feelings leads to healing. It is important to note that depression is not your fault, you are not alone, and you are not lazy. It is okay to take a break and take a breath. This too shall pass. I learned recently that my feelings of “laziness” and “dread” are part of my mood disorder. I am not lazy. I am literally not in the mood. We must fight to accomplish tasks that need to be done, like getting out of bed, stepping outside, and encouraging the sun to help lift this mood. This depression will not last forever and delightful, invigorating, fantastic happy moments are on the horizon. There is life worth living!

—SJB

“Procrastination” 3.5.21

Samantha Jane Buice

Waiting until the last minute gives some of us extra motivation to finish work when the deadline is impending. For others, dread fills us to the brim. Often, the work doesn’t ever happen at all.

Procrastinators are often characterized as “lazy.” For many years, I accepted that as my own character flaw. My views on the matter were altered when I entered therapy.

I didn’t work with a therapist until five years into my illness. I had a psychiatrist, medication, and lots of problems. I had no idea how much I needed to talk to someone.

I began seeing a psychologist in 2009. It changed me forever. I released my emotions, worked through several problems with her guidance, and would not be the same without her help.

I was in college studying art. I started skipping my drawing class. It was too difficult for me. I have always had trouble with perspective and realism, beginning in my Thursday afternoon art lessons in elementary school. Trying to depict reality has always been so frustrating for me. I was in the dark until the fifth grade, when I realized that there are other techniques and areas of art to explore. I didn’t have to make things look real in order to express myself!

In that college drawing class, though, it was vital in order to pass and the teacher was ruthless. He was especially stern with me because I wasn’t improving despite his suggestions. So I skipped one of his drawing classes.

Then I skipped another, and another. I skipped a week of his drawing classes. Then I stopped going entirely.

With a stomach full of dread and my anxiety level through the roof, it seemed that the more classes I missed, the harder it would be to catch up. Therefore; I never returned. Procrastination as I have never seen the like.

I suffered through every day of college, unstable because of my mental illness. I didn’t seek help from the Disability Resources Department because I didn’t know it existed.

It wasn’t until years later that I learned a fact of utmost importance from my therapist. My “laziness” and procrastination were tied to my mood disorder. Sometimes I was literally “not in the mood.” And it wasn’t my fault!

Try not to punish or misunderstand the procrastinators in our midst. Truly, sometimes there is an underlying reason for appearing “lazy.”

Next time you feel “lazy,” or continue to spiral into procrastination, look it in the face and ask yourself where it comes from. It could be a characteristic of a mood disorder, and entirely no fault of your own.

It is something to ponder, whenever you’re in the mood.

—SJB