Hello Koog Fans! It’s been a minute since I’ve posted.Those that actually know me, understand life has thrown a lot at me these past 18 months or so. I think it’s important to be honest about my hiatus, I have been taking care of my mental health.
In the span of 18 months, Mrs. Koog had breast cancer and a double mastectomy, I was diagnosed with psoriatic arthritis, Mrs. Koog endured painful reconstruction, then complications with reconstruction and one final surgery on July 5, then Momma Koog got sick, then Momma Koog got sicker, then Momma Koog moved into our family room, then we had our house turned upside down for hardwood floors upstairs and finally we had a chairlift installed so Momma Koog could have an actual bedroom with an actual bathroom. Oh yeah, I also had a full body blister rash that started in October and was not going away in spite of the dermatologist giving me every frickin cream, gel and lotion known to man. And it itched. And it wasn’t chicken pox or shingles, it was stress.
I should mention in addition to the list of things above, life had to go on. I worked full time, I coached a soccer team (half-heartedly and way too heavily depended on T the “assistant coach“, a really good friend, to be the head coach and lead practices ), still had to parent the teenage Koogs, take Momma Koog to a myriad of doctor appointments to improve her health and nurture Mrs. Koog because everything above happened to her, too.
Around October was our first soccer game. It was the first time this happened to me, my mind went completely blank even though I had a thousand thoughts speeding through my mind. When T asked me for the line-up, I just looked at him and said nothing. It took me a minute to organize my thoughts and luckily, he put together a line up and we were able to coach the game together.
This scenario happened to me more frequently as the fall turned to winter. I started having a hard time concentrating at work. I started having panic attacks. I started having flashbacks of past traumatic events. And then I started not sleeping. That’s the tell tale sign I am slipping mentally. Then things got dark for me. Once the darkness come for me, it’s a quick slide into depression.
It was around the holidays things got increasingly dark for me and I was isolating. This was not good. I had extreme anxiety when I was around anyone that was not Mrs. Koog or the teen Koogs. The rash was just unbearable. I had a Psoriatic Arthritis flair. My bedroom became the only room in the house I spent any time. It was scary. Even my therapist was alarmed. Mrs. Koog was scared. Honestly, I was scared.
Mrs. Koog and I decided it may be a good time to lighten my load and I should consider taking a leave of absence from my beloved Firm. Coincidentally, that same day, I got a call from Georgetown Psychiatry and they scheduled me the following week. I will leave out the details, but we agreed some things had to change and they put me out on short term disability. I’ve never been on any type of disability before but the Firm walked me through the process. Then the Psychiatrist said I needed more help than just a weekly zoom with my therapist. Obviously, drugs were involved and I was fine with that approach (Please save your opinions on anti-depressants and anxiety meds).
The Psychiatrist had one more recommendation. She described it as a 5 day a week therapy boot camp that would get to the root of my PTSD and give me tools to help manage my depression and anxiety. It all sounded fine until she told me the name…Partial Hospitalization Program (PHP). ABSOLUTELY NOT was my response. I had visions of Nurse Ratched and padded rooms. After they calmed me down from my literal panic attack, she explained that while the program has the most unfortunate name, you are not admitted to the hospital and you are free to leave at any time. It is a 5 day per week program for 3 or 4 weeks 10am-3:45pm and you go home each night like a normal job.
As I sat there, my options pinged around in my brain. I could do nothing, I could just continue on with my twice monthly therapist (who I adore) or I can do this PHP thing. The first 2 options didn’t offer me a lot of home as I was already having scary (suicidal) thoughts. I want to be alive for my family, so I chose what I considered the scariest choice. PHP and short term disability.
I was relieved and terrified all at the same time. All I could think of was how weak I was that I couldn’t mentally handle my life. It was a self hatred rumination spiral that was profoundly dark and scary. I had to snap out of it to fill out some STD forms. Then it dawned on me, I needed to inform my work colleagues that I was going out on short term disability, I knew the natural question was “what’s going on with your health?”. Lying was an option but that seemed obviously inauthentic but it also seemed like it would take some energy to keep up a story like that over time. Plus, these are my friends and close co-workers, I wouldn’t just lie to them.
In the end, I chose the truth. The embarrassing, humiliating truth that I had Major Depression and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. That I spend most of my energy trying to keep myself alive. That I can’t keep coherent thoughts in my head because everything is jumbled in my brain. I was scared they would think less of me. I was scared I’d lose respect from leaders. I was scared I’d lose my leadership positions. I was mostly scared they would withdraw from me because they thought I was crazy or unstable. I was scared I’d lose them, and they mean a lot to me.
I started with my closest colleagues that are also friends and branched out to other leaders and then my teams. The response I got was exactly the opposite of what I was expecting. They were commenting about my strength to be honest about my situation. They offered to step into my leadership roles while I was out so things would keep moving until my return. They told me I mattered and the world was better with me in it. I felt and still feel supported.
My start date at PHP was February 3. I was terrified on the drive there and had to steel myself to walk into the office and start this journey. The first person I met was the Psychiatrist, Dr. L. She was amazing. We discussed a number of things and she agreed PHP was the right place. Then she escorted me to a room. I should mention, I was expecting 5 hours of 1 to 1 therapy. When she opened the door to the room there was 9 people seated around a table. It took everything I had not to run.
I took a seat and introduced myself and I think those were the only words I uttered that day. On day 2, something happened. I participated. I was honest with this group of strangers that knew exactly what I was feeling as I described my brokenness. For the first time I was completely honest about the ugliness of my PTSD and anxiety and depression. There I was, laid bare in front of a group of strangers. They offered their shared experiences and displayed a kindness that is hard to describe. They immediately welcomed me into the fold and we felt like a little family of strangers bonded by our different yet the same traumas.
Over the course of the 4 weeks I spent in PHP, I had 3 pretty significant panic attacks. Thankfully, the first one happened as I was packing up to leave for the day. The leader of the program, J, took me to her office and talked with me and taught me techniques on how to handle both the physical and emotional pain during a panic attack. I was so grateful to her for her kindness and candor that afternoon. That kindness would continue until the moment I walked out of the building for the last time.
Unfortunately, the other attacks happened while I was driving home. The last one was especially scary as I was hell bent on doing something that couldn’t ever be undone. Mrs. Koog and our Spiritual Leader/Rector (I think she will like that title) E, ran from her family and let us use the church and her guidance to get me through these scary panic attacks. E was nonjudgmental. She didn’t treat me like I was crazy. She talked to me and Mrs. Koog about how to eliminate some of my stress, she shared some of her experiences and, as always, she made me laugh. This poor Spiritual Leader had to do this not once but twice. I’m sure it was an inconvenient burden but she didn’t make me feel that way.
I can’t speak about the people I met at PHP. It’s really a sacred space where 10 strangers quickly become family without even knowing each other’s last names. They were the most trusted people in my life for 30 days. As each person completed the program at a different time and new people joined, I was sad to say goodbye but I also celebrated their success and strength as they went out to face the world again. The new people quickly joined the “family” and we kept going.
My completion date was Monday, March 3rd. It was with mixed emotion I got through the discussions of the day. I did take some time during a break to reflect on my 30 days of PHP. The entire program changed me. Not just because they taught me techniques to manage my anxiety and depression, not because of the weekly meetings with Dr. L or J. I think it was the fellowship of the group. These strangers whom, at first glance, have very little in common with me or each other, yet we are the same. We have the same struggles and, most importantly, we are trying to erase the same shame.
On my way home on March 3rd, I cried yet again. This time it didn’t require the intervention of Mrs. Koog or our Spiritual Leader, they were happy tears. I cried for the “family” that had everything to do with my success but the tether we shared was undone and I was the next one to leave and face the world with a new set of tools and a new outlook knowing we’d probably not see each other again. Most of my tears were for me because for first time in my life, I felt proud of myself and that felt really good.
In the span of 18 months, Mrs. Koog had breast cancer and a double mastectomy, I was diagnosed with psoriatic arthritis, Mrs. Koog endured painful reconstruction, then complications with reconstruction and one final surgery on July 5, then Momma Koog got sick, then Momma Koog got sicker, then Momma Koog moved into our family room, then we had our house turned upside down for hardwood floors upstairs and finally we had a chairlift installed so Momma Koog could have an actual bedroom with an actual bathroom. Oh yeah, I also had a full body blister rash that started in October and was not going away in spite of the dermatologist giving me every frickin cream, gel and lotion known to man. And it itched. And it wasn’t chicken pox or shingles, it was stress.
I should mention in addition to the list of things above, life had to go on. I worked full time, I coached a soccer team (half-heartedly and way too heavily depended on T the “assistant coach“, a really good friend, to be the head coach and lead practices ), still had to parent the teenage Koogs, take Momma Koog to a myriad of doctor appointments to improve her health and nurture Mrs. Koog because everything above happened to her, too.
Around October was our first soccer game. It was the first time this happened to me, my mind went completely blank even though I had a thousand thoughts speeding through my mind. When T asked me for the line-up, I just looked at him and said nothing. It took me a minute to organize my thoughts and luckily, he put together a line up and we were able to coach the game together.
This scenario happened to me more frequently as the fall turned to winter. I started having a hard time concentrating at work. I started having panic attacks. I started having flashbacks of past traumatic events. And then I started not sleeping. That’s the tell tale sign I am slipping mentally. Then things got dark for me. Once the darkness come for me, it’s a quick slide into depression.
It was around the holidays things got increasingly dark for me and I was isolating. This was not good. I had extreme anxiety when I was around anyone that was not Mrs. Koog or the teen Koogs. The rash was just unbearable. I had a Psoriatic Arthritis flair. My bedroom became the only room in the house I spent any time. It was scary. Even my therapist was alarmed. Mrs. Koog was scared. Honestly, I was scared.
Mrs. Koog and I decided it may be a good time to lighten my load and I should consider taking a leave of absence from my beloved Firm. Coincidentally, that same day, I got a call from Georgetown Psychiatry and they scheduled me the following week. I will leave out the details, but we agreed some things had to change and they put me out on short term disability. I’ve never been on any type of disability before but the Firm walked me through the process. Then the Psychiatrist said I needed more help than just a weekly zoom with my therapist. Obviously, drugs were involved and I was fine with that approach (Please save your opinions on anti-depressants and anxiety meds).
The Psychiatrist had one more recommendation. She described it as a 5 day a week therapy boot camp that would get to the root of my PTSD and give me tools to help manage my depression and anxiety. It all sounded fine until she told me the name…Partial Hospitalization Program (PHP). ABSOLUTELY NOT was my response. I had visions of Nurse Ratched and padded rooms. After they calmed me down from my literal panic attack, she explained that while the program has the most unfortunate name, you are not admitted to the hospital and you are free to leave at any time. It is a 5 day per week program for 3 or 4 weeks 10am-3:45pm and you go home each night like a normal job.
As I sat there, my options pinged around in my brain. I could do nothing, I could just continue on with my twice monthly therapist (who I adore) or I can do this PHP thing. The first 2 options didn’t offer me a lot of home as I was already having scary (suicidal) thoughts. I want to be alive for my family, so I chose what I considered the scariest choice. PHP and short term disability.
I was relieved and terrified all at the same time. All I could think of was how weak I was that I couldn’t mentally handle my life. It was a self hatred rumination spiral that was profoundly dark and scary. I had to snap out of it to fill out some STD forms. Then it dawned on me, I needed to inform my work colleagues that I was going out on short term disability, I knew the natural question was “what’s going on with your health?”. Lying was an option but that seemed obviously inauthentic but it also seemed like it would take some energy to keep up a story like that over time. Plus, these are my friends and close co-workers, I wouldn’t just lie to them.
In the end, I chose the truth. The embarrassing, humiliating truth that I had Major Depression and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. That I spend most of my energy trying to keep myself alive. That I can’t keep coherent thoughts in my head because everything is jumbled in my brain. I was scared they would think less of me. I was scared I’d lose respect from leaders. I was scared I’d lose my leadership positions. I was mostly scared they would withdraw from me because they thought I was crazy or unstable. I was scared I’d lose them, and they mean a lot to me.
I started with my closest colleagues that are also friends and branched out to other leaders and then my teams. The response I got was exactly the opposite of what I was expecting. They were commenting about my strength to be honest about my situation. They offered to step into my leadership roles while I was out so things would keep moving until my return. They told me I mattered and the world was better with me in it. I felt and still feel supported.
My start date at PHP was February 3. I was terrified on the drive there and had to steel myself to walk into the office and start this journey. The first person I met was the Psychiatrist, Dr. L. She was amazing. We discussed a number of things and she agreed PHP was the right place. Then she escorted me to a room. I should mention, I was expecting 5 hours of 1 to 1 therapy. When she opened the door to the room there was 9 people seated around a table. It took everything I had not to run.
I took a seat and introduced myself and I think those were the only words I uttered that day. On day 2, something happened. I participated. I was honest with this group of strangers that knew exactly what I was feeling as I described my brokenness. For the first time I was completely honest about the ugliness of my PTSD and anxiety and depression. There I was, laid bare in front of a group of strangers. They offered their shared experiences and displayed a kindness that is hard to describe. They immediately welcomed me into the fold and we felt like a little family of strangers bonded by our different yet the same traumas.
Over the course of the 4 weeks I spent in PHP, I had 3 pretty significant panic attacks. Thankfully, the first one happened as I was packing up to leave for the day. The leader of the program, J, took me to her office and talked with me and taught me techniques on how to handle both the physical and emotional pain during a panic attack. I was so grateful to her for her kindness and candor that afternoon. That kindness would continue until the moment I walked out of the building for the last time.
Unfortunately, the other attacks happened while I was driving home. The last one was especially scary as I was hell bent on doing something that couldn’t ever be undone. Mrs. Koog and our Spiritual Leader/Rector (I think she will like that title) E, ran from her family and let us use the church and her guidance to get me through these scary panic attacks. E was nonjudgmental. She didn’t treat me like I was crazy. She talked to me and Mrs. Koog about how to eliminate some of my stress, she shared some of her experiences and, as always, she made me laugh. This poor Spiritual Leader had to do this not once but twice. I’m sure it was an inconvenient burden but she didn’t make me feel that way.
I can’t speak about the people I met at PHP. It’s really a sacred space where 10 strangers quickly become family without even knowing each other’s last names. They were the most trusted people in my life for 30 days. As each person completed the program at a different time and new people joined, I was sad to say goodbye but I also celebrated their success and strength as they went out to face the world again. The new people quickly joined the “family” and we kept going.
My completion date was Monday, March 3rd. It was with mixed emotion I got through the discussions of the day. I did take some time during a break to reflect on my 30 days of PHP. The entire program changed me. Not just because they taught me techniques to manage my anxiety and depression, not because of the weekly meetings with Dr. L or J. I think it was the fellowship of the group. These strangers whom, at first glance, have very little in common with me or each other, yet we are the same. We have the same struggles and, most importantly, we are trying to erase the same shame.
On my way home on March 3rd, I cried yet again. This time it didn’t require the intervention of Mrs. Koog or our Spiritual Leader, they were happy tears. I cried for the “family” that had everything to do with my success but the tether we shared was undone and I was the next one to leave and face the world with a new set of tools and a new outlook knowing we’d probably not see each other again. Most of my tears were for me because for first time in my life, I felt proud of myself and that felt really good.
So proud of you for facing your demons!
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