Happy birthday to the love of my life. Dalton, I know you don’t like to be called out but I wanted to dedicate a blog post to you. Don’t worry, I don’t have a large following. A year ago this weekend you asked if you could kiss me. Thinking back, it’s so funny to remember the nervousness I felt and just navigating the transition from friends to partners. That’s what you are to me, my partner (in light crime).
This is just a short little post letting you know how much you mean to me. That I'm thankful to have you in my life and excited to be celebrating you. You are such a good man and you are so good to me. Every day I'm reminded how lucky I am to have you. I can also say you're one of a kind. From your sense of humor to the way you think, I have never met anyone like you.
My blog theme, if you will, is not just about writing. It's about tying in songs to help express my emotions, as well. This post proved especially difficult to narrow down the song but I went with the one that spoke to me the most. Here's to celebrating life's milestones and events together. Oh and I love you, more.
Last year I wrote about the misconception of "what depression looks like." When I heard the news of Kate Spade's untimely death, my heart sank and was reminded that mental illness doesn't have a type. It can affect anyone, anytime.
This was a strong, smart and talented woman that inspired those around her. It seemed she had everything, from the outside looking in. That's the thing about mental illness. It's an internal struggle. It also doesn't discriminate. No matter your age, gender, race, income or education, you have an equal opportunity chance to be fighting your own mind.
I looked up to Kate. I loved who she was as a person. Her designs, style, everything. Not just on a level of obsessing over her purses - trust, I did - but about her message and encouragement.
To Live Colorfully.
To Be Bright, Be Happy, Be You.
That I'm Quick and Curious and Playful and Strong.
That I Leave A Little Sparkle Wherever I Go.
Unfortunately, Kate lost her life to suicide. It's a permanent solution to temporary problems. I know that it doesn't feel temporary, first-hand. That it feels like there is no other choice. It hurts my heart that another beautiful soul is gone, but my hope is that it brings even more awareness to the stigma of mental illness.
That we place just as big of an emphasis on mental health as physical health. That we learn to understand that people struggling don't always look or seem like they are. Hopefully, we can get to the point where we ask our friends and family about how they're doing - and mean it. That while discussing any illness can make us uncomfortable that we would rather be uncomfortable talking about it now rather than talking about another preventable death later.
Rest in peace, Kate. I'm so sorry that you were carrying such a big burden.
And there's a hope that's waiting for you in the dark You should know you're beautiful just the way you are And you don't have to change a thing, the world could change its heart No scars to your beautiful, we're stars and we're beautiful
It has been two years, today, since I started needed this blog. I felt alone. Depressed. Anxious. Hurt. I honestly didn't know how I would make it out of what seemed to be a bottomless pit. Reading some of it, where my head was at, how I was feeling makes my stomach sink. But, little by little, I grew and learned how to cope and deal with things from my past. Don't get me wrong, I still have bad days, but I'm a different person now.
You hear the clichés. Oh, you'll be fine. You'll get through this. Time heals all wounds. Just be patient. You don't realize the small changes being made. The strength you're gaining as you move on. Certain days, it felt like I was back at square one. But now, looking at obstacles that I overcame, I see myself differently. I am different. (I may have also learned to lean on Pinterest quotes/memes as reminders to keep my head up. Example below.)
Something I struggle with is negative thoughts. I know that it's part of both my depression and anxiety, but it seeps into memories that I have. There were good times, but the traumatizing ones outshine it. Recently, I've actively worked on remembering the good. It's hard work, sometimes, but it helps, too.
I had fun memories and was blessed in many ways with my childhood. I did a lot growing up and while there was always a shadow and things that went wrong, I know that every single thing I've gone through or done has sculpted the woman I've become.
For a long time, I thought that I couldn't do this on my own. But when I took the time to focus on myself and my actual needs, it turned out that I like myself. That I'm stronger than I could have ever imagined. Broken pieces started healing. I felt whole again. Now, I have my own apartment, a partner who I love, a great job with people who I cherish and have built true friendships with some amazing ladies. None of this came easy, but it's where I am now. I'm also hella thankful for those who supported me along the way.
I still have a lot to learn, but I can't wait to see the progress I continue to make over the next few years.
I'm afraid of abandonment. From a young age, I believed that neither of my parents wanted me because they chose drugs over my sisters and I. These people that are supposed to love me unconditionally chose substances over me. While growing up, I carried this fear with me and I'm sure that it had to do with me finding someone that was abusive and not capable of love.
It was like "Fragile" or "Vulnerable" were written on my forehead. I was broken from years of hurt, so I found and accepted someone who also dealt with pain. Someone that didn't know how to love anyone. I accepted the love that I thought I deserved because I thought that no one could possibily love me. I mean, if my own parents didn't, why or how could anyone else?
I was loyal and stayed with this person, because he also made me believe that this was true. That no one else could possibly love me. That he was the best thing that ever happened to me. Granted, I know deep down that he was also raised to not feel loved. Having a father that left him and a mother that chose herself and alcohol over him. But at some point, you have to grow up and take responsibility for your actions. Continuing the cycle of putting me down and making me feel worthless made him feel better, which isn't acceptable.
It took me years to know and believe that I wasn't the problem. With my parents or with my ex. I couldn't have done anything else to fix them or to make them choose me over their drug of choice. It wasn't my job to clean up the mess that my ex's childhood and upbringing was.
How I know that he still wants to hurt me is that he will "pop" up every couple of months. Causing me anxiety, panic and breakdowns. I'm better at handling these situations as they come up, but they still make me want to scream. Him doing this, when he has another girl in his life, when he knows I'm moving on, when it's been two years, is frustrating. I know that silence is the only thing he deserves, but then I feel like I'm also silenced. That what I want to get off of my chest will just give him happiness. That he'll know he's affecting me and that is exactly what he wants.
All I can do is to make peace with this. To know that I can't try to understand why he does what he does, because there's no logic to it. He's unhappy with his life and himself, so he wants me to suffer, too. Even though I'm not with him. It's ironic too. I would have settled with him. Trying to clean up his mess. Trying to show him love. But when I stopped and walked away, he continued to reach out and hurt me. Whenever a few months goes by, when I'm finally thinking that it's stopped - the texting, calls, driving to my apartment when he's drunk - happens again.
My peace comes from knowing that I did everything that I could. That I gave him everything that I had. That even though I had my own baggage, I took his on too. For years, I needed him. Or needed the person that he said he was. The person that said he was on my team. That we were family. That he loved and supported me. But those were all lies. And yes, people say not to need others, but we're human. We're biologically built to need others. While I'm stronger and independent now, I still need my friends and support system to be there for me. But at least now I don't need him. I don't need anyone that doesn't appreciate me or value who I am as a person.
While this time he violated my privacy by driving to my apartment, I know that it has nothing to do with me. I know that he's messed up and that I'm finally at complete peace. I've left him in my past, where he belongs. I've moved on. I'm talking to someone now and thanks to my ex, I know what I don't want out of a partner. I deserve someone who cares about me and treats me right.
By not letting him get the best of me, I've made room in my life for good people. Those that love and value me. I'm better off without someone who doesn't respect me and I'm choosing to not give any more of my time or energy to him. I no longer consider myself broken or damaged goods.
I know what you're doing. Contacting me every couple of months to make sure that I'm thinking about you. Trust me when I say, I don't think about you anymore. This is the last time you'll get any attention from me, and this is just because I need to let everything out. I won't say these things to you, directly. You don't deserve them. Instead, you deserve my silence and now that's all you'll ever get. So boy, bye.
Now that you're out of my life, I'm so much better
You thought that I'd be weak without you, but I'm stronger
You thought that I'd be broke without you, but I'm richer
You thought that I'd be sad without you, I laugh harder
Thought I wouldn't grow without you, now I'm wiser
Thought that I'd be helpless without you, but I'm smarter
With today being World Mental Health Day, I wanted to talk about a trending topic I saw about what depression looks like. Through social media and news, there is a misconception that depression is a dark picture of someone on the ground, with their head clutched in their hands. In reality, that’s not what depression always looks like. I’m usually seen as bubbly and happy by others, even when I’m battling anxiety or a depressive episode.
The topic reminded me how depression can be masked with just a smile.Those with mental health problems don’t always look “depressed”. While I’m doing better than I have been in my entire life, there are still days where I’m struggling without looking like the stereotype of this illness and I’m not the only one. Together, we can raise awareness to support better mental health.
Even if we're breaking down, we can find a way to break through
Even if we can't find heaven, I'll walk through hell with you
Love, you're not alone, 'cause I'm gonna stand by you
I recently reread my previous post. It felt painful, but also refreshing at the same time. It was raw, and real. Unfiltered. What I really felt as I was going through a depressive episode. As I got back into my life and recovering from the episode, it's hard for me to forget the pain I was feeling. I'm okay - I'm doing better - but that pain is a reminder of the battle I face with depression and anxiety.
I was embarrassed after first writing it. Mostly because I felt that I should be. I mean, what if someone actually reads that and thinks I'm crazy? Then I remembered, I don't care. My depression is a part of me, whether I like it or not. I know that I'm not crazy. The important people in my life know I'm not crazy and anyone that judges me or my illness can suck it.
I'm also not alone. So many people battle these demons and the more that we talk about it, the more we can support each other in our journeys. There are also some positives that come out of these episodes, see below.
I write
I find great comfort in writing. To be able to get out all of the thoughts that are bombarding me. It's therapeutic and makes me feel accomplished. I may not be the best writer - I may not articulate everything I mean, but it's a release that I crave.
I love
My depression and anxiety have shaped me to love harder. I express my emotions for others and connect with my friends and family on a deeper level because of it. I know what it feels like to feel like no one loves or cares about you, so I love my support system extra hard, to make sure they know I'm there for them. This compassion and empathy has lead me to find amazing people in my life. There's no room to be judgmental when you're battling depression. I know as well as anyone that we're all struggling with something. It's better to fight together.
I laugh
Hitting rock bottom can be positive. I mean, there's only one way to go and that's up. I appreciate my good days THAT much more, because I know the stark comparison of what a bad day is like. I'm also self-aware, and use humor to help me cope with my illness. I constantly seek happiness and there's nothing like a good laugh to make someone smile.
I'm driven
Maybe I'm overcompensating because I feel guilty for not wanting to live before, but I work harder because I want to use my full potential. I don't take life for granted. I guess that's a common misconception with depression, too. Others think that depression is selfish, but it's not. I don't want to feel like I want to die. To think that the world would be better off without me. That's just a chemical imbalance that overpowers the logical side of things. But when I've made it through the episode, I know that I'm that much stronger and can accomplish whatever I want to.
I wanna get better
I didn't know I was broken 'til I wanted to change
Throughout the last week, I was hit with an intense depressive episode. For me, I try to be as proactive as I can be when I feel the symptoms. But, depression is an isolating illness. While the logical part of me is saying, "Your friends will understand. It's okay to speak up and reach out for help," the depression is in the back of my mind saying, "No one understands. Everyone thinks you're crazy and worthless. They'll leave you." It's an illness that makes you push people away when you really need them the most because I am terrified that my depression will ruin my relationships.
It's easier to be proactive when you're not in an episode. If I'm feeling slight symptoms, I can manage and cope with them. But when it's this deep, it's like I can't turn off the negative thoughts and feelings. For those that have never had depression, it's something that can't be understood. I've been told that I'm just feeling sad and that everyone gets sad. But the thing is, depression isn't just sadness. I feel it physically and mentally.
When you lose someone or are going through a difficult time in life, whether that be losing a job or going through a breakup, it's normal to be sad and grieve. But, when you feel like you've been consumed by a dark cloud, when everything is going right in your life, that's not normal.
I feel guilty. I know that I should be happy right now. I just accomplished graduate school. And yet, finishing school is a trigger for me. If I'm not in school anymore, what am I doing with my life now?
It's like I'm conflicted between knowing that I should feel okay and what I'm actually feeling. I have a job. I have a life. I have friends. I've moved on. I earned my Master's degree. And yet, I can be found on the bathroom floor crying uncontrollably for no reason.
Again, this symptom then makes me feel guilty, stupid, and honestly quite pathetic. I have no reason to cry, but I do. I have no reason to be unhappy, but I'm filled with dread and uncertainty of how I'll manage the pain I'm feeling each day, hour, minute. Until it passes. Until the episode is over. But for those that suffer from depression, it doesn't feel like it will end. It feels like you're trapped and have a tremendous amount of weight on your shoulders. It feels like an eternity.
Depression isn't sadness. It's a war in within your mind. It doesn't discriminate against who it affects. It doesn't matter your age, race, gender or social status. Medicine and self-care (meditation, counseling, hobbies) help manage the symptoms. I know that first-hand. I haven't had this type of episode since last year, and each time it's like I forget that it does end. That I'm strong and can make it through it. Depression takes away your drive to succeed. It makes you feel weak.
I'm holding on. And I'm trying. I'm fighting not to succumb to the darkness. But I need patience surrounding me because I need extra love and support right now.
If you're also fighting depression, stay strong. You're not alone. I know that each episode feels like a relapse, but recovery isn't a linear path. We have ups and our downs. Give them hell.
The lane I travel feels alone
But I'm moving 'til my legs give out
And I see my tears melt in the snow
