Not All Wounds Are Visible: Blogging for National Mental Health Month

It's up to you today to start making healthy choices.
Not choices that are just healthy for your body, but healthy for your mind.
~ Steve Maraboli

May is National Mental Health Awareness month

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or a society that can communicate in a nanosecond with everyone in the world about what they ate, who they’re dating, and what they feel about their favorite sports team, when it comes to discussing mental health, we clam up faster than a viral Tweet.

And there are as many reasons for that lack of communication as there are personality types and psychological disorders.

Which is why this year, I once again

“…pledge my commitment to the 

Blog for Mental Health 2015 Project. 

I will blog about mental health topics 

not only for myself, but for others. 

By displaying this badge,
I show my pride, dedication,
and acceptance for mental health. 

I use this to promote mental health education 

in the struggle to erase stigma.”

Just like last year, all my blog posts in May will be about mental health in some way.  No, I’m not a professional counselor, but four years ago, I stopped trying to battle my cyclothymic depression on my own and asked for help.  And then last year, I decided that the stigma surrounding mental health and illness needed to be eradicated.  So I “came out” about my depression.

It was the most freeing decision I ever made.

Since then, in an effort to further my own healing and learn better coping skills to deal with family members suffering from psychologically disorders, I’ve continued to educate myself about mental health, generational dysfunctions, and the different modes of therapy. Maybe my battles ~ both those I've won, and those I've lost ~ can be helpful to you.

Even if it’s only to realize that you aren’t alone in this battle.

Oremus pro invicem,

~ Mikaela

Not all Wounds are Visible.

Posts on La Belle are written with the following fonts: Georgia, Times New Roman, Vivaldi, Edwardian, and occasionally Baroque Script.

In 2015, I’m participating in Jeff Goins’ My 500 Words Challenge: writing at least 500 words a day for a year! (YTD Word Count: 44,891)

In addition, for the next 50 days, I’m participating in the Abbey of the Arts’ Pilgrimage of Resurrection: A Creative Journey through the Easter Season.  Join us!

Unlocking the Prison Cell: MHA-F Walk for Mental Wellness

The pain of severe depression is quite unimaginable to those who have not suffered it, and it kills in many instances because its anguish can no longer be borne. The prevention of many suicides will continue to be hindered until there is a general awareness of the nature of this pain.

~ William Styron, Darkness Visible: A Memoir of Madness

In 2015, I’m participating in Jeff Goins’ My 500 Words Challenge: writing at least 500 words a day for a year! (YTD Word Count: 50,750)

In addition, for the next 50 days, I’m participating in the Abbey of the Arts’ Pilgrimage of Resurrection: A Creative Journey through the Easter Season.

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live in a prison cell. 

The foundation and the walls were built by others, but sadly, I contributed to its design.

Jailers pace outside, hurling insults and criticisms and verbal abuse through the bars, but ultimately, the worst jailer is behind bars with me.  She holds tight to the key that would free us and alternately cringes in a corner or returns verbal fire with even nastier fire. 

But it only eases the pain of confinement and isolation a little.  In the end, me, myself, and I are still trapped. 

I do have one consolation ~ friends who come to visit me here in this dark, sad place. They offer encouragement to me and my cell mate~ encouraging us both to take out that key, put it in the lock, and break free.  We refuse to leave the familiar comfort of our pain; but they don’t leave in disgust ~ they sit with us and love us anyway.

Mental, emotional, and psychological illnesses are debilitating and more often than not, they can feel like a prison.  My coping mechanisms ~ which had provided safety and security from a hurtful childhood and un-diagnosed cyclothymic depression ~ at some point, trapped me in a cycle of habits and though patterns.  Instead of safety and security, I found I couldn’t move on in freedom and compassion.

About four years ago, I found my current psychologist and he was able to pry that rusted old key from my frightened hands and slowly, we’ve been oiling that old cell lock, working on setting me free.  I’m not out yet, but there’s a window open now, and there have been some psychological earth quakes that have weakened the foundation of this prison.

And I’m not the only one here.

In this prison, there are many cells and at least once a day, I hear the hopeless weeping of other prisoners ~ some who have been here longer than I’ve been alive.  Many of them can’t hear the others; they are locked deep in isolation.  

But I hear them. 

And it breaks my heart that they have no friends to sit with and comfort them, and no trusted therapist to help loosen the chains.

Which is why on May 2, I’m walking for them.

It is deplorable that in our “enlightened” society, there is still a stigma attached to mental illness.  No one but an idiot breaks their femur bone and insists on setting it themselves or calls all orthopedists quacks.  

Mental illness is real; it causes physical pain and has far-reaching effects and consequences.  And currently, one in four adults in the United States suffers from a diagnosable mental disorder in a given year.

Mental Health of America is a non-profit that is passionate about making mental health a critical part of our overall health and wellness.  On May 2, they are sponsoring a 1-3 mile walk to raise awareness of mental health issues specifically affecting teens and seniors citizens.  And yours truly, along with a few friends, will be one of the people walking to help #EndTheStigma.   

I hope you walk with us or donate money to Team Grizzly (seriously, would my team be named anything else?! *wink*) and help raise awareness of the prison of mental illness and stigma.

The cell you unlock might just be your own.

Oremus pro invicem,

~ Mikaela

Join Team Grizzly or support our walk!

Posts on La Belle are written with the following fonts: Georgia, Times New Roman, Vivaldi, Edwardian, and occasionally Baroque Script.

The Road: ADHD/ADD and Our Good Intentions

It is a bottomless pit of feeling you're failing, but three days later, you feel you can do anything, only to end the week where you began.

It is not learning from your mistakes….

It is a hyper focus, so intense about what bothers you, that you can’t pay attention to anything else, for very long.

It is a never-ending routine of forgetting things….

It is beauty when it has purpose.
It is agony when it doesn’t.

It is called Attention Deficit Disorder.

~ Shannon L. Alder

In 2015, I’m participating in Jeff Goins’ My 500 Words Challenge: writing at least 500 words a day for a year! (YTD Word Count: 44,891)

In addition, for the next 50 days, I’m participating in the Abbey of the Arts’ Pilgrimage of Resurrection: A Creative Journey through the Easter Season.

  

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ntentions.   We all know what road they pave, don’t we?

Pithy, but it doesn’t apply to all people at all times and in all circumstances.

Take someone who suffers from ADHD.   For many, something vital is missing from the prefrontal cortex.  Executive functions, or management system of the brain, should have developed over time; functions that would enable them to make decisions, focus on tasks, and exert self-control.

They truly have the best intentions, good intentions, but with a neurobiological disorder like ADHD/ADD, these ideas and intentions and dreams often fall by the wayside.  Their brains aren’t like other brains, and until they receive treatment (therapy + medication + nutrition), they will continue to forget vital information, overbook their calendars, and leave tasks chronically unfinished.

They lack the abilities to handle frustration, start and complete tasks, recall and follow multi-step directions, stay on track, plan, organize, and self-monitor. ADD/ADHD therapists and other professionals who can evaluate and diagnose ADD/ADHD typically point out executive-function problems, but many families dismiss them as less critical than other learning challenges. However, it is clear that effective executive functioning is a key factor in remedying academic difficulties.

Executive functions are the skills that an individual of any age must master to deal with everyday life. Self-monitoring is particularly important for students, because it governs their ability to evaluate their work and behavior in real time.  (Executive-Function Deficits in Children)

When this happens, it causes great distress for the person with ADHD/ADD.  They feel guilty for letting people down.  Depression– whether it is a chemical depression related to the ADHD or situational depression based on societal and familial attitudes and treatment of the person, usually follows.

My cyclothymic depression mimics certain aspects of ADHD/ADD. So I understand all too well how those with ADHD/ADD feel.  My desk at home is layered with projects that were started, but never completed.  I have a notebook full of bits and bobs of poetry and poetry ideas, story lines, dialogue – but no draft manuscript.

However, I did write and complete one today – in honor of #NationalPoetryMonth, for all my friends who suffer from ADHD/ADD and depression, and based on the 50 Days Pilgrimage word for today: Intention. 

I hope you enjoy and it reminds you to take a step back, support your loved ones who are suffering, and join me in fighting to #EndTheStigma.  (Learn more about ADHD/ADD here.)

Oremus pro invicem,

~ Mikaela

You are not alone.

 

Posts on La Belle are written with the following fonts: Georgia, Times New Roman, Vivaldi, Edwardian, and occasionally Baroque Script.

Avoidance Solves Nothing - But Writing About It Might

Only fear can defeat life. . . . .

It goes for your weakest spot, which it finds with unnerving ease.

It begins in your mind, always ... so you must fight hard to express it.

You must fight hard to shine the light of words upon it.

Because if you don't, if your fear becomes a wordless darkness that you avoid,

perhaps even manage to forget, you open yourself to further attacks of fear

because you never truly fought the opponent who defeated you.

~ Yann Martel, Life of Pi

May is National Mental Health Awareness Month.  Join me in blogging to erase the stigma of mental illness so our loved ones can seek the help they need.

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voidance is one of my specialties.  Depression and anxiety only make this particular dark star of mine “shine” even brighter (Darker?  Hmmm.)

A bill is due?

Ignore it until they start threatening to take your firstborn as payment.

A report for work is needed?

Wait until the afternoon before it’s expected to begin asking people for input.

Having people over for dinner on Sunday?

Panic and rush around the grocery store on Saturday afternoon wondering what the hell you’re going to serve.

Notice some weird medical issues?

Wait until you’re writhing in pain and they have to take you to the ER.

Sign up to help X do any number of fun or helpful things.

Become so anxious the night before that you give yourself a migraine and digestive issues.

It’s Going to Take CSI to ID this Body of Problems

On a good day (or if I’m really lucky, a good string of days), bills are paid on time, reports are completed and edited and reviewed a week early, dinners are planned with clockwork precision, doctor’s appointments are made before things get tricky, and social engagements are driven to with excitement and flare.

But most “strings of days” aren’t like that.

Life ebbs and flows.  I could have a week where three days are good and two days are quiet and one day is really bad.  Other times, things cycle in the space of just 12 hours.

Today for instance, is a good day.  But it could easily go to pot.  And not the good kind.  In the morning, I felt really good.  I whipped out a clean notebook (they’re an addiction – all those blank pages!), wrote up all my “To Dos” that had been pinging my brain, and set to work getting things done.

And they aren’t tedious things.  They’re fun things.  Good things.  Actions that will help make some people’s days brighter, ease another’s stress, and make my life a little easier, and the holiday weekend more relaxing.

But then something happened.

Image credit: Sarah Brandis

I don’t know what it was.  A drop in my endorphins?  A dip in some other brain chemical?  Something I ate this morning?

Maybe it was the fact that my co-worker was in a car accident over the weekend (she’s fine!) and won’t be in until Thursday.

Maybe it’s the fact that I have to compress my work day by a couple of hours today in order to make a writing class (which is fun!)

Or maybe something on that To Do list makes me nervous. 

There are a couple of entries that assume that I’m talented in a certain area.  A couple more include making plans with people at least a few weeks in advance. And one involves spending time with a difficult person.

Ahhh.  And there it is.  Without even knowing it, my subconscious grabbed on to that event and began wringing its hands:

Why in the world did you think that was a good idea?  You do realize that instead of just “here is X amount of money – knock yourself out” you chose to go big.  Now you’re stuck with this person not just for the event, but for the drive to the event, dinner before the event, and the drive after the event.  Which by the way, will include our most hated pastime ~ sitting in traffic.  Way to go, genius!  You never think these things through, do you?  Gods, you’re an idiot.

Make Like an Ostrich and Stick It

The whispers weren’t audible.  But the drop in “warm fuzzies” was noticeable.  And so what did I do?  I avoided. 

The Internet is a great tool for the Avoider.  Forget FB and Pinterest ~ which I told you are like weed and crack.  Email is the best drug, because it makes us feel like we’re being productive.  See?  I’m answering your email about the thing.  And being all happy-happy and busy-busy. 

Not avoiding.  Nope. No avoiding going on here. Noooo.

This chart applies to any fears we may have.
Image credit: The Strangest Situation Blog

The truth is, I’m afraid.  

I’m afraid that the choice I made (regarding attending the event with said difficult person) will blow up in my face.  Unfortunately, this isn’t based in bad juju or a fantasy.  This is based on past experience.  Which again makes me call my IQ into question regarding the initial decision.

And this reminds me of a well-known fable, The Scorpion and the Frog:

A scorpion asks a frog to carry him over a river. The frog is afraid of being stung during the trip, but the scorpion argues that if it stung the frog, the frog would sink and the scorpion would drown. The frog agrees and begins carrying the scorpion, but midway across the river the scorpion does indeed sting the frog, dooming them both. When asked why, the scorpion points out, “But you knew I was a scorpion.” 

I Wanna See You Be Brave

The lesson could be that I am indeed an idiot who should have thought “Yes, that is a nice idea, but X is not a stable person and will likely make the evening a living hell for you.  Best to just write her a check.”  But that’s in the past and can’t be undone ~ I don’t have an in with the Doctor.

And it doesn’t help me face my issue using avoidance as way to cope with fear.  But writing about it does.

So, today started out as a good day.  And then it turned panicked and bad.  The To Do list sat with only one lone red line through it.  All the other tasks languished.  But one of those tasks was to write today’s post.  And in the writing, I figured out what was at the root of my avoidance.

The real lesson then, is that, sometimes, when we’re anxious, or sad, or panicked, or upset ~ we need to talk it out.  This is something we can do every now and then with a supportive friend who is a good listener.  And it’s something we should do with a well-trained supportive therapist on a regular basis.

But it’s also something we can do when we’re alone.  A journal ~ whether in book or computer form ~ can’t give you feedback or positive reinforcement.  But it can help you to gather your thoughts, to help clarify your feelings, and sometimes, even show you the solution to your problem.

So today, if things aren’t going so well, I encourage you to “fight hard to shine the light of words upon” whatever it is you feel you can’t face.  Call a friend, call your therapist, call a hotline.  And write down everything you feel.

Together, let’s fill the wordless void with the light of shining words.

Oremus pro invicem,

~ Mikaela

How do you cope when things don’t go as planned or when you’re feeling anxious?

The Nest: More Care and Feeding for Depressed Friends

It’s easy to minimize a person’s hurt without understanding the nature of pain. People often like to categorize how much a person should or shouldn’t hurt about things. For example, when someone is upset about something, they say, “At least you’re not paralyzed, or starving in Africa.” While it’s imperative to be grateful for what we have, I think people often mistaken the nature of pain, when they ‘categorize’ in this way. The criteria for how much something hurts is not dependent on the thing itself.

~ Yasmin Mogahed

May is National Mental Health Awareness Month.  Join me in blogging to erase the stigma of mental illness so our loved ones can seek the help they need.

L

etting go of an idea ~ no matter how good it was, or might still be ~ is really okay when it’s not working for you anymore.

Oh, so you noticed no more Top Fives on Friday, have you?

Well, it began as a post idea from some blog challenge many challenges ago that was supposed to be the “easy” post.  You know ~ in case you suffer from blogger’s block, just throw a top five list together and voila!  So I picked Five, because that was substantial without being crazy and posted them on Fridays because I like alliteration.

But pretty soon my arch nemesis, Perfectionism, reared her head and suddenly, making lists became the toughest post to write.  Because I didn’t want to send you to sites I hadn’t actually visited ~ at least once.  Or recommend books I hadn’t read.  I wanted to add value to your life, not fluff.

And sometimes, when you suffer from depression (or any other mental or emotional illness), the amount of energy it takes to do that just isn’t there.

The Nest

As I was brainstorming what to talk about today, I did have some great ideas for future posts, though.  Why is my brain like that?!  Argh!

But since today is generally a kind of laid back, weekend is almost here kind of day, I try to save the not so serious posts for Friday.

Okay, fine.  This is actually an excuse for me to cruise Pinterest for hours on end and finish my beta reading project.  As well as that new Elizabeth Hunter book.

But you’ll love this anyway:

 

Image credit: Pinterest/robot-hugs.com

See?  How cute is that?! 

Aaannnd, it perfectly illustrates another aspect of care and feeding of friends with depression that I mentioned last week.  Sometimes, you just need to build us a nest.  And sometimes, you just need to curl up in there with us.

No need for grand gestures of support.  Just be creative. 

Build an old fashioned table fort with sheets like you did when you were a kid.

Get out your sleeping bags and have a movie night/slumber party.

Clear your to do list for a day and stay in your PJs all day.

Have breakfast in bed.

Buy a hammock and fill it with pillows and soft blankets and rest under the trees.

You'll comfort us (even if we don't show it) and you'll recharge your care-giver batteries too.

Oremus pro invicem,

~ Mikaela

What kind of “nest” would you build?  What kind of “nest” would you want built for you?

It's Okay to Take Meds When You Feel Like Crap

I've hit the ground. Gone right through it. Never in my life have I felt this. Nothing like this. I've felt shame and cowardice, weakness and strength. I've known terror and indifference, self-hate and general disgust. I've seen things that cannot be unseen.  And yet I've known nothing like this terrible, horrible, paralyzing feeling. I feel crippled. Desperate and out of control. And it keeps getting worse. Every day I feel sick. Empty and somehow aching.

~ Tahereh Mafi

May is National Mental Health Awareness Month.  Join me in blogging to erase the stigma of mental illness so our loved ones can seek the help they need.

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feel like Jonah in the belly of the whale” three days floating in darkness, damp,  and fish bones.

Well, except for the fish bones. 

And it was really five days.  Plus half of last Friday, when it all started with a little sore throat.  That turned into a couple of sleepless nights with an outrageously hacking cough.  That is now a mildly annoying hacking cough and a stuffy nose.

All of which is to say – that’s why all the radio silence this week.  I was. . . abed.

If I wanted an overflowing inbox and tons of work on my desk, I would have taken yet another day off to rest.  But I dragged myself in, politely hacked into a tissue, warned all and sundry to stay clear of the contagion zone, and tried to catch up on three days’ worth of work.

Sick. . .

Drugs are wonderful.

Image credit: Google

Call me a coward and hypocrite. . .actually, I accept with grace the first, and scratch my head at the second.  I may very well be at other points in my life, but on this one, I’m pretty sure I’ve already stated somewhere in this great white canvas of thoughts and opinions, that while I embrace the natural and alternative path to health and well-being, I also recognize that some drugs are more helpful and indeed necessary for equilibrium and a more “normal” way of life.

So with a “oh what the hell” attitude, I downed Nyquil for three days and sprayed my throat with a nasty No 5 red-based monstrosity that promised “instant relief” (it lied) and sucked on zinc lozenges for hours.  Anything to ease the pain.

Well, we’ve already determined I am a coward.

. . .and Ashamed?

So when I read Tania Runyan’s article over at Image Journal today, I understood.  PPD is not a type of depression that I have personal experience with, but the shame she encountered ~ both from her inner critic, and those around her ~ that was all too familiar.

I went home, ashamed for even visiting a psychiatrist. I was a strong, spiritual woman. Several people told me not to give in to the pills that “doctors hand out like candy.” Tom Cruise had just lambasted Brooke Shields about taking medicine for PPD, and although I knew he wasn’t the most credible source, his view reflected a common opinion: You’re better than this. . . .I tossed the prescription, vowing to take more vitamins and pray harder.

How my heart ached for her in that moment!  The belief that seeing a shrink is somehow, degrading, or means you've hit the mental crap-jackpot, makes me want to pull my hair. Because it's a belief rooted in misinformation, superstitions, and plain bunk.  I’ve mentioned this kind of stupid advice from well-meaning friends before, and I’m going to take a page from Bob Newhart and tell y’all to just

Stop It!

Praying harder, sucking it up, putting on your big-girl panties, pushing through the pain, are really just ways of saying: 

“I’m uncomfortable with pain in general and your pain in particular.  So I’m going to spit out some clichés that I’ve heard other morons say and maybe you’ll be comforted and go away.”

In Ms. Runyan’s case, the pain got so bad, that she wisely went back to the psychiatrist, actually took the medication, and could now function more like herself.  Because guess what, strong, spiritual women (and men) have chemical or hormonal imbalances sometimes too. 

And there are medications for that.  And it's okay to take them.

Do I think that many doctors are happy to be pill pushers as opposed to healers?  Yes.

Do I think that all medications are therefore suspect?  Hell, no.

Do I think we should be our own patient advocates when it comes to our health.  Damn straight.

Now off to find some colloidal silver, pop a zinc lozenge, and maybe down another Nyquil.

Oremus pro invicem,

~ Mikaela

I’m pretty loud and proud about alternative medicine.  But I hope I never hate on anyone who takes meds for things.  And you should never feel ashamed for trying to do the right thing.  Be healthy my friends – in mind and body.

Depression Lies: I Am a Fraud

All my friends thought I was a very happy human being. Because that's how I acted- like a really happy human being. But all that pretending made me tired. If I acted the way I felt, then I doubt my friends would have really hung out with me. So the pretending wasn't all bad. The pretending made me less lonely. But in another way, it made me more lonely because I felt like a fraud. I've always felt like a fake human being.

~ Benjamin Alire Sáenz, Last Night I Sang to the Monster

May is National Mental Health Awareness Month.  Join me in blogging to erase the stigma of mental illness so our loved ones can seek the help they need.

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id you miss me?

Yeah, kinda obvious that I didn’t post yesterday.  I had every intention of doing so in the morning.  But as the day wore on, I just felt more tired, less focused, less confident, and more anxious. Most of all, I felt like a fraud.

Just another day in depression land.

“I am a Fraud”

Many people feel this way from time to time, especially creatives.  But people who suffer from depression (and creatives are more likely to suffer from depression) feel like this all the time.

It’s not always at the forefront of our minds, but it is there somewhere.  Lurking.  Waiting.  It can smell exhaustion and weakness like a shark smells blood.

Wait, do sharks actually smell?  Like, they have a nose that sniffs in water?  I never thought about that.  Oh, sorry, a little ADD moment there.  Where was I?  Oh yes…

Image credit: Lori Tennison

I am a fraud.  Sometimes this is very true, in the emotional sense.  I pretend to be happy-happy, joy-joy because that is what is expected.  And to a degree, that’s okay.  For the most part, I’m not an even keel, Eyeore type.  My depression is what’s known as cyclothymic, which is just as its name implies: cycles of mood.

It’s related to bi-polar disorder, but not as extreme.  And mine is a mild case.  And dear God, if mine’s mild, I truly ache for those who suffer from moderate to severe cases and those with bi-polar disorder.

Because let me tell you, even a mild case sucks.

Self-criticism is huge bogey for any creative.  But especially if you’re depressed.  Common phrases that play on repeat in our brains are:

“You’ll never be good enough.”

“If they only knew who you really are…”

“Who are you to think you can contribute anything worthwhile?”

“Why can’t you act nicer/happier/more outgoing?”

“If you weren’t so lazy, you would accomplish X, Y, Z.” 

We weren’t born with these phrases playing.  We heard them growing up and they’ve stayed with us, haunting us, crippling our abilities and our stripping us of joy. 

It becomes worse, the critical voice becoming louder, when we don’t sleep well, are dealing with a stressful situation, or have huge changes in our routine.  I was dealing with a stressful situation (or not dealing as the case may be) and so the feelings of inadequacy were heightened.  So the message I heard was

“What makes you think you’re qualified to write about this topic?  You haven’t suffered nearly as much as some have.  Why would anyone want to hear your story?”

And I’m sorry, but I just didn’t have the energy to withstand the negative onslaught of my lizard brain, so I walked away from the computer in shame and defeat.

But I also figured it would be better to do that, than to lie and pretend that everything was hunky-dory if it really wasn’t.

After all, that’s what this month is all about ~ destroying the stigma, and embracing who we are fully ~ depression and all.

Oremus pro invicem,

~ Mikaela

What do your inner voices say and how do you silence them?

I'm Too Tired to Go Out: The Care and Feeding of Depressed Friends

A kind gesture can reach a wound that only compassion can heal.

~ Steve Maraboli, Life, the Truth, and Being Free

May is National Mental Health Awareness Month.  Join me in blogging to erase the stigma of mental illness so our loved ones can seek the help they need.

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isery loves company. Especially if that company also enjoys watching episodes of Psych.

A few weeks ago, I suggested to one of my local gal pals that we needed to institute a regular Girls Night In with Fake TV Boyfriends.  As we’re both WhoLock fans and Psych nerds, this turned out to be a brilliant plan.

Until the other night, when we realized that we really weren’t in our twenties anymore and apparently couldn’t handle two bottles of hard cider and talking until 3am.

But despite our cranked out sleepiness the next day, we discovered that we were better for having laughed, cried, and eaten comfort food together.

We took comfort in the fact that we were in this mental illness dance together.

The Care and Feeding of Depressed Friends

It’s tough to know what to do for your friends who are depressed.  Even though I suffer from it, I’m at a loss for words sometimes.

Image credit: Shiny Starr Light

So here’s my Top Ten list of how to care and feed your friends who are depressed.

1.       Find out what their Love Language is.

2.      Send them a card or write them a note.

3.      Give them a call.

4.      Listen.

5.      Make a care package for them.

6.      Go over for a visit.

7.      Take them shopping.  Not for clothes.

8.     Schedule a spa date for the two of you.

9.      Send them flowers.

10.  Bring/cook them dinner.

The key is to listen and engage with them.  Respect their level of energy.  If it’s really low, stay in and watch movies and order pizza.  If they’re having a good day, go get massages. Bottom line?  Let them know you care and that they’re loved and not alone.  

You don’t know whose life you may be saving with that unexpected phone call.

Oremus pro invicem,

~ Mikaela

Show your friend support today!