Survival Guide-First 2019 Post
It's July already and I haven't blogged this year. At all. To be perfectly honest, this year started off super crappy with my mental health and continued getting worse. I didn't want to blog, didn't feel like I had anything to say. And I didn't want anyone to know what was really going on. Hence the lack of blog posts for 2019. To make a long story....well who am I kidding. It's going to be long. I don't write short posts. This is your warning! :)
My depression was the worst it has ever been. I found no joy or pleasure in anything. I was constantly battling negativity and all the voices in my head telling me all the ways I wasn't enough. A few months ago I started having suicidal thoughts. I was starting to believe everyone would be better off without me. While I never went so far as to make a plan for ending my life, I was constantly haunted by the thought. One night in particular will stay in my memory forever.
I was dealing with some serious self-hatred and was completely bombarded with every lie the enemy had ever told me. Worse still they all seemed true in that moment. I was curled up in a fetal position on our bed crying and Jake came in, put his arms around me and held me tight. I tried to get away. I screamed and fought and kicked. He didn't let me go. He just kept telling me that he loved and kept speaking truth over me. Eventually I stopped fighting physically, but the fight wasn't over yet. I was on the verge of hyperventilating, my crying and anxiety were so bad. I felt like I couldn't breathe. It was terrible. Finally, we got my breathing under control and Jake decided to give me some space (sometimes the alone time helps). Just a few minutes after he left, it all came rushing back, even stronger this time. I remember laying on my stomach, face in the mattress, praying-begging God to just let me die. I wanted Him to take me out of this world. I couldn't do it anymore. I had no more fight left.
Jake came back and sat with me. We talked for a long time and he really encouraged me to talk to someone, my family or a counselor. Really anyone. I remember telling him I didn't want to talk to my family because if they knew what my depression was really like they'd step away, disown me, lock me in a mental institution. I feared they wouldn't see me the same and that they would only be able to see my struggles instead of me. But I did tell them and they were, of course, supportive, and worried. While I knew it was good that I had been able to tell them, it wasn't enough. I needed help they couldn't give me.
I found a website that listed Christian counselors in my area. I went through probably a hundred listings. I finally found a woman I could afford and whose specialty was depression. But the real reason I picked her? She looked really nice. Now the best reason, I know, but it worked out for me. I've been seeing her for several weeks now and she's great. We've worked through struggles I am facing currently and we've started to delve into my past, finding themes and things I've believed that are untrue. I've gotten better about controlling my anxiety (anti-stress lotion and a stress ball made from balloons and cornstarch). I've learned to say no when I need to and that sometimes I need to take care of myself. I've learned that I don't have to explain myself or apologize when someone doesn't understand a choice I've made for my life.
Recently one of my biggest struggles has been my weight/health and eating. I was taking to her about it one day, how I do want to eat better and lose weight, but every time I try I either defeat myself before I start or I get frustrated and give up. Just the thought of that journey made me depressed. What made me even more upset was that it was a good and improving thing I should be striving for and couldn't seem to do it. After I told her about all that,she gave me permission to put it on hold for now (or at the very least move very slowly). At first I felt guilty but she explained it well. She told me that at the moment, it wouldn't be the healthiest move for me because food is one of my coping mechanisms. Going completely cold turkey would either cause a spiral into depression because all of a sudden I can't have anything or I would end up bingeing and give up anyway. She wasn't being negative, I realized, but stating facts for my own sanity. She told me what I so desperately needed to hear. Right now, my mental health is my priority and getting that worked through and improved is my focus. That's okay. I'm not Wonder Woman. I can't improve it all at once. And some day in the near future I'll be able to make my physical health my biggest focus, but today is not that day. And though it has been a real challenge, I'm learning to be okay with it and focus on my mental health first.
For the last two months or so my depression has been almost non-existent, which in theory is great. I was so desperate for so long to get back to a normal life. But strangely it feels weird. I've lived with that constant struggle for so long, I've almost forgotten what to do when it isn't hanging over me! My brain isn't used to not being attacked all the time, not being mentally and emotionally exhausted, having a desire for anything. Basically I've had to start over. Currently the struggle is walking this out. Learning my real personality, finding things I enjoy doing, trying things, making friends, not apologizing all the time, and accepting myself for who I am now, to name a few. And trying my darndest to be excited about who I could be.
I apologize for the exceptionally long post, but I wanted to hopefully encourage some others reading this. It might feel impossible and you're going to have bad days where you're just numb and foggy. That's okay. You're going to make it through those days and on to better ones because you are capable. You are strong. You are an overcomer. And you are not alone.
I'm sick of the stigma that says we have to keep our mental health issues under wraps. It's too dark, too disturbing, too burdensome. It's getting better, that's true, but it's not there yet. I'm sick of mental illness being viewed as something trivial, like a cold or allergies. It's not allergies. It can be just as serious as cancer. If untreated and unmanaged, it can kill you just as easily as going without chemo. Maybe that sounds stupid and ridiculous to some people. That's fine. You're entitled to your own opinion. I'm going to keep working my hardest to break the mental health stigmas. I'm going to keep talking about uncomfortable things and pulling mental health into the open. What would happen if we pulled it out into the light instead of shoving it back further into the darkness? Maybe there would be less suicides. Maybe people wouldn't be so afraid to say they are struggling. Maybe people wouldn't feel so alone.
A co-worker of mine recently posted this quote from Morgan Harper Nichols:
My depression was the worst it has ever been. I found no joy or pleasure in anything. I was constantly battling negativity and all the voices in my head telling me all the ways I wasn't enough. A few months ago I started having suicidal thoughts. I was starting to believe everyone would be better off without me. While I never went so far as to make a plan for ending my life, I was constantly haunted by the thought. One night in particular will stay in my memory forever.
I was dealing with some serious self-hatred and was completely bombarded with every lie the enemy had ever told me. Worse still they all seemed true in that moment. I was curled up in a fetal position on our bed crying and Jake came in, put his arms around me and held me tight. I tried to get away. I screamed and fought and kicked. He didn't let me go. He just kept telling me that he loved and kept speaking truth over me. Eventually I stopped fighting physically, but the fight wasn't over yet. I was on the verge of hyperventilating, my crying and anxiety were so bad. I felt like I couldn't breathe. It was terrible. Finally, we got my breathing under control and Jake decided to give me some space (sometimes the alone time helps). Just a few minutes after he left, it all came rushing back, even stronger this time. I remember laying on my stomach, face in the mattress, praying-begging God to just let me die. I wanted Him to take me out of this world. I couldn't do it anymore. I had no more fight left.
I found a website that listed Christian counselors in my area. I went through probably a hundred listings. I finally found a woman I could afford and whose specialty was depression. But the real reason I picked her? She looked really nice. Now the best reason, I know, but it worked out for me. I've been seeing her for several weeks now and she's great. We've worked through struggles I am facing currently and we've started to delve into my past, finding themes and things I've believed that are untrue. I've gotten better about controlling my anxiety (anti-stress lotion and a stress ball made from balloons and cornstarch). I've learned to say no when I need to and that sometimes I need to take care of myself. I've learned that I don't have to explain myself or apologize when someone doesn't understand a choice I've made for my life.
Recently one of my biggest struggles has been my weight/health and eating. I was taking to her about it one day, how I do want to eat better and lose weight, but every time I try I either defeat myself before I start or I get frustrated and give up. Just the thought of that journey made me depressed. What made me even more upset was that it was a good and improving thing I should be striving for and couldn't seem to do it. After I told her about all that,she gave me permission to put it on hold for now (or at the very least move very slowly). At first I felt guilty but she explained it well. She told me that at the moment, it wouldn't be the healthiest move for me because food is one of my coping mechanisms. Going completely cold turkey would either cause a spiral into depression because all of a sudden I can't have anything or I would end up bingeing and give up anyway. She wasn't being negative, I realized, but stating facts for my own sanity. She told me what I so desperately needed to hear. Right now, my mental health is my priority and getting that worked through and improved is my focus. That's okay. I'm not Wonder Woman. I can't improve it all at once. And some day in the near future I'll be able to make my physical health my biggest focus, but today is not that day. And though it has been a real challenge, I'm learning to be okay with it and focus on my mental health first.
For the last two months or so my depression has been almost non-existent, which in theory is great. I was so desperate for so long to get back to a normal life. But strangely it feels weird. I've lived with that constant struggle for so long, I've almost forgotten what to do when it isn't hanging over me! My brain isn't used to not being attacked all the time, not being mentally and emotionally exhausted, having a desire for anything. Basically I've had to start over. Currently the struggle is walking this out. Learning my real personality, finding things I enjoy doing, trying things, making friends, not apologizing all the time, and accepting myself for who I am now, to name a few. And trying my darndest to be excited about who I could be.
I apologize for the exceptionally long post, but I wanted to hopefully encourage some others reading this. It might feel impossible and you're going to have bad days where you're just numb and foggy. That's okay. You're going to make it through those days and on to better ones because you are capable. You are strong. You are an overcomer. And you are not alone.
I'm sick of the stigma that says we have to keep our mental health issues under wraps. It's too dark, too disturbing, too burdensome. It's getting better, that's true, but it's not there yet. I'm sick of mental illness being viewed as something trivial, like a cold or allergies. It's not allergies. It can be just as serious as cancer. If untreated and unmanaged, it can kill you just as easily as going without chemo. Maybe that sounds stupid and ridiculous to some people. That's fine. You're entitled to your own opinion. I'm going to keep working my hardest to break the mental health stigmas. I'm going to keep talking about uncomfortable things and pulling mental health into the open. What would happen if we pulled it out into the light instead of shoving it back further into the darkness? Maybe there would be less suicides. Maybe people wouldn't be so afraid to say they are struggling. Maybe people wouldn't feel so alone.
A co-worker of mine recently posted this quote from Morgan Harper Nichols:
Tell the story of the mountain you climbed.
You words could be a page in someone else's
survival guide.
I freaking love this and pray the Lord continues to use my story, though I've far from reached the top of my mountain. I still have a lot of work to do, just like everyone else. Don't be ashamed to tell your stories, too.
Thanks to anyone who actually read this far. I love you and am so thankful for the support. :)
Comments
Post a Comment