The Importance of Mental Health #2

Mental health and the chemistry of the body are funny things. If you haven’t read the first story, it is here: LINK TO STORY

This was written a year after the first story.

The short version for those who bore easily: My team qualified for the NJCAA National Tournament, we went to the Championship, and it was a rather blah experience for me, thus the worry about mental health.

So what about the intervening eleven months and seventeen days since I wrote that article?   Well, with the help of friends, family, and our family doctor (who happens to also be a friend), we worked through as many avenues as possible regarding depression, exploring every possible-ism you’ve heard of.  I went to counseling at a Wellness Center to see if my ‘depression’ was an inability to express grief at the recent deaths of my mother or stepfather, or maybe went back to the death of my dad back in ’89.  It didn’t work.  At that point, knowing my dislike for medication, my doctor eased me into trying a couple to see if they helped the situation.  They made it worse.   That’s right—worse.  No fault on his part. 

I think one of the things people don’t realize unless they are around doctors or nurses a ton is that medicine is every bit an art as it is a science.  Think about your trainers, dealing with the physical side of injuries.  Symptoms described for each athlete are different, so are pain tolerances, so is the athlete-coach-trainer communications dynamic.  Art, not science.

We tried small doses, medium sized, switched meds, all done conscientiously before he determined that the situation needed a serious specialist—so off I went ninety minutes away to a psychiatrist.  Dear God, no…someone who’s going to put me on a couch and ask about phallic symbols and if ink blots look like butterflies…but the doc said this new doc was the best, used to teach it, do the research, and had thirty-five years experience.   So I trusted him.  There’s something else important: Make sure you’re comfortable and trust the people involved in your healthdecisions. If you aren’t comfortable–it’s ok to ask about others, just don’t equate comfort with competence. That’s a mistake, too.

What a surprise.  None of that stuff.  Instead, the first thing he did was make me go over my life and what I’d done over the past 10-15 years—not trying to probe for the Freudian or Kuebler-Ross stuff.  It turns out he was looking from a completely different perspective.  Fresh perspectives are often part of a solution, not the problem.  When I finished, he started asking odd questions, specific ones: When did I start having trouble with sleep?  How often did I cross time zone borders?  …things like that.   And that last one is an interesting issue; you see, my ‘depression’ hit its peak at Nationals last year, two weeks after the switch to Standard Time, and it was two time zones away from home, effectively slamming me three time zones one way, and two on the way back.  Five zones in fourteen days.

Now all this was done in a single hour-long session.  At the end of it, he tossed my file on his desk and said, “Your problem isn’t depression.  Your problem is bio-chemistry.” Yup, all this work to fight depression and it turns out that wasn’t what we should’ve been fighting.  The psychiatrist said not to blame my normal doc or other people—they were following normal protocol. He noted that often depression is a symptom rather than a root of things.

I told him about the first instance it happened (Spring, 2006)–right when the clock was changing. He said the time-switch slowed the growth of the membrane around my brain cells, so that they couldn’t regenerate fast enough to keep the cells functioning effectively (if you know me, you’re thinking—that explains a lot…hah hah).  He described it as taking a dozen electrical wires, putting them close to one another without insulation, then watching sparks fly or electricity go between wires rather than straight ahead continuing through the connection; he explained that’s why my thoughts would jump, why they’d race at bedtime, why I would get massive migraines.  It was lost energy which left me physically tired on top of everything.  The only way those cells can regenerate is sleep—so I would sleep more (because the sleep was inefficient), but my brain could not catch up.  The doctor proscribed a pill (turned out I was allergic to it and had to switch to a different one)—not for depression, but for epilepsy; the pill was designed to thicken cell membranes, what he’d identified as my core problem.

We figured all this out in August.  I had to do our two-a-day practices then drive to yet another city to meet with the doctor.  It was rough trying to do everything, but that was another thing he noted.  My body had grown used to the lesser exertions, so I needed to keep going, force my body to be as active as possible while the medications worked.  So I’m trying that.  It’s been four months and a couple days now—and just as cool?  He said that this is a physical issue, so that once the brain cell membranes are thick enough to regenerate normally, I’ll be able to be taken off the medication and go back to my normal pill-hating self.  I’ve got eight months to go and I feel so much better.

If you’re having problems—stick with it.  Keep trying.  If you know someone dealing with an issue like this, give them your love and support.  You may never hear back ‘thank you’, but that’s awkward to say sometimes—but if they are a friend or they respect you, those words are in their heart where it matters.  I know that.

So I guess that brings this to the end of the piece.  Almost.  My team qualified for our National Tournament again and it’s still going on.  I’m here writing this, burning off nervous energy, but mainly because people need to know that recovery from a mental condition can be no different ultimately than an ACL surgery.  LLCC plays tonight in our second consecutive Final Four.  Our #3 vs. #2.  We’re the underdog—and I’m excited.  I want a crack at the title game.  Yesterday in the Elite Eight, we came back from a 2-0 deficit to win in five.  I was able to enjoy the confidence of my girls.  I was able to let them play because that is who we are, it’s how we roll, not because I was ambivalent or lacked energy.  (Seriously, as of typing this, it is eight hours, twenty-six minutes until first whistle…we’re ready for this, players, coaches, and even the parents)

I’ve had some extra energy—enough to walk the dogs, go to Dad-Daughter Day at my daughter’s women’s fraternity, and for the first time in my memory, I’ve gone weeks without a migraine (I’ve had two since August, rather than getting 3-4/week)

Please, PLEASE, take mental health seriously.  Problems aren’t always obvious, they are insidious, and often, maybe usually, hidden by those who suffer things like depression, but they are there, and please don’t just ‘share’ on social media.  That’s crap and does nothing.  Be honest with yourself and your own mental health, look out for your players and staff, and make sure they are all right.  Worry equally about the mental health side of coaching and sports.

NOTE: With the medical stuff, I’m a writer and coach, not a doctor [there’s a Star Trek joke in here somewhere, dammit Jim!].  The psychiatrist also explained everything in medical terms—but the electrical wiring was what I understood and stuck with me.  I can’t really help with better medical explanations.  Sorry.