Forever and Almost Always

I was 15 when I first started suffering from the symptoms of depression. It wasn’t until two and a half years later that I was diagnosed and actually know what was wrong with me. I wish I could say that once I was diagnosed and put on anti-depressants everything got better, but it didn’t. It wasn’t until 2014 that I was finally able to escape the dark, never ending pit that is depression.

Early 2014 was a very dark time, one of the worst periods of depression I’d ever had. In all honesty I did not think I was going to make it, but then something changed. I attended a week long leadership conference and after it, for reasons still a mystery to me, everything changed. I’m talking a complete, 180 degree spin.

For the first time in nearly a decade I could truly say I was happy and genuinely mean it. I was smiling, laughing, adoring every second of the work I was doing. My panic attacks subsided and I no longer woke up to days where the very thought of having to get out of bed exhausted me to the point of tears. It was amazing, but in a way it made me lose sight of a very important fact.

 The other day I was sitting at my kitchen counter when, suddenly and for no reason, I was overcome with an urge to cry. I wasn’t sad, nothing bad had happened, but I still felt as if it had. I realized after a moment, that there really was nothing wrong, I wasn’t subconsciously upset about anything, but I was depressed.

In that moment I came to a long overdue realization. Just because I had been symptom free for eight months, didn’t mean I would be forever. No matter how happy and content I feel, there’s still something in my body that causes me to be sad for no reason. I will always have depression and I will always have anxiety, but I will not always be actively suffering from them.

In the past there were days when I thought I would never be happy again and times when I forgot what it was like to go through a day without struggling. My life used to be darkness with sprinkles of good days and happy memories, but now the opposite is true.

The point here for me is that I am not always going to be 100% happy 24/7, 365 days per year, but that’s okay. You know why? Because it also means I’m not going to be depressed 24/7,  365 either. The great times aren’t going to last forever and be constant, but neither will the bad. 

Panic

There is a large disconnect between those suffering from mental and emotional health issues, and those who've never struggled with them. For many people it is difficult if not impossible to understand or comprehend the experiences of people who struggle with conditions such as depression and anxiety. So today, I'm going to try and lessen that disconnect.

Panic and anxiety attacks are a hell I would genuinely never wish on a single person. To those who've never experienced it, even these words will not be able to fully capture the experience. A panic attack, for me, is like being on the verge of death, with no way of escaping. These attacks are not just mental or emotional, they are very intense physical attacks as well.

I can almost always feel these attacks coming on, which was always more of a torture than a comfort. It would always start with the faintest sense of fear. I would feel uneasy, uncomfortable, as if something bad was going to happen. My heart would begin to speed up and that fear quickly evolved to an overwhelming, smothering feeling.

These feelings of fear, dread and panic quickly explode into an attack. My heart rate quickly escalates, which makes it nearly impossible to breathe. Those symptoms quickly create an inescapable cycle. Heart is racing, cant breathe, afraid because I cant breath, which makes my heart race more. Through all of this I am sobbing. Tears are streaming down my face and these balls of fear and terror build up in my stomach.

This cycle of torture continues until I get to the point where I feel as if I cannot breathe and that I'll never be able to. I feel like I'm going to die, I cant breathe, I begin to beg and plead for the pain to stop. In addition to the sobbing, heart racing and hyperventilating, I also cant sit still. I feel as if I'm going to crawl out of my skin and it is not possible to be still. I stand, and pace, wring my hands, but nothing helps.

Try to imagine the single moment before death. The second of knowing your life is about to end, and having no control to stop it. That's what a panic attack is, but for 20 minutes, 30 minutes, 45 minutes, an hour or more. You have no control over your thoughts, or your feelings or the physical torture you have to endure. Even when it all finally ends, it isn't just over. Your muscles ache, your head pounds from sobbing and, even though you are physically exhausted to the point of no longer being able to function, your brain still continues the assault.

Its not simple, its not something you can just "get over". And its not the same for every person. Even for one person, every attack can be different. Its not easy to understand, but that's okay.

Praying for Acceptance

There are many people in this world who, often as a result of their religion, believe that suicide is a mortal sin, and that any person who commits that act will spend eternity in hell. Firstly, I'd like to say that although I strongly disagree with that belief, I understand that every person has a right to their religious beliefs.

But here's the thing, I only believe that everyone has the right to their own opinions, as long as it doesn't hurt others. I'm finding that more often than not, that many (though not all by any means) of these people make no effort to try and understand those with suicidal histories, and instead judge them.

When I was 15 years old I was struggling secretly with depression, anxiety, bullying and the effects of those situations (things like exhaustion, bad grades, loneliness). I had been praying heavily, literally sobbing and begging god for any kind of help or sign that things would eventually get better. For a year I did that, dropping to my knees and pleading through tears and pain for help. I never got an answer, or a sign, and eventually I gave up hope. At age 16 I made the choice to end my life.

Now, clearly my suicide attempt did not result in my death, and that is a story I will share at some point. However, according to the aforementioned people, I am condemned to spend eternity in hell because of that choice. There are some who believe that if I was to repent and ask for forgiveness, God may forgive my actions and I could have my place back in heaven. Well here's the thing, I'm not asking for forgiveness. I will not repent. I am happy that I am alive today and that that night was not the end of my life, but I will not apologize for my choices.

If you have never struggled with depression, anxiety or any other type of emotional/mental illness, you cannot understand those who do. I'm sure it is very easy to express those beliefs when you've led a blessed and happy life, and I understand that if you've never had your faith tested in such an extreme manner, that it must be somewhat impossible to comprehend the thought of giving up on god. I'm sure it is just as difficult for dedicated religious believers to understand what I went through, as it is for me to understand how they could seemingly completely write people off due to one decision.

In my opinion, religion is one of the largest contributors to suicide. People take the black and white words of the bible or other religious texts and take them in a very literal way. We do not live in the same times as the people of the bible. Our society is far more complex and we are facing much more serious issues. Depression and suicidal thoughts are not something you can pray away. We need to take a step back and find a way to hold on to religious beliefs, without condemning others for not fitting their strict checklists.

We do not need a world without religion. we need a world with more understanding and willingness to learn.

"It Gets Better" isnt total bull

When I was in my deepest struggles and my worst times, there were few things I hated more than hearing "it will get better" or "its all going to be okay". When you can barely bring yourself to get out of bed and drag yourself through the day, those phrases are infuriating. Mostly because at that point in your life it never has gotten better. Every day has either been a living hell, or one of those less-bad days between the hell.

This time a year ago, in all honesty, I did not think I would live to see the end of the semester, much less 2015. I'm not going to go into a lot of detail right now, but basically, I spent a handful of nights using every ounce of strength I had to keep from ending my life. It was a dark time and I was struggling very deeply every single moment.

Now, it's a year later. I earned a 3.4 GPA in the fall semester. I was hired to manage a program that I've been a part of for 3 years and love. I'm coordinating a leadership program, which is one of the things that led me to make life changing decisions, and I'm still working a bit with Intern Heaven (I'm pretty optimistic about our long distance relationship). Not to mention I have an amazing group of friends, a wonderful family, and classes I'm actually enjoying (clearly none of them are math based).

Okay, so anyways, the point of this. I'm not trying to brag, I'm not trying to make you feel like you're not doing enough. I just want you to know that you are going to be successful. Life is going to completely suck for a long time, it was 4 and half years for me, but eventually its going to suck less. At some point, things will change, you will change.

I cant give you a road map or a list of instructions, eight months after it happened to me I still couldn't tell you exactly what happened. Events in my life fell at the same point that something in my brain changed. I was put in a unique situation which I went into with an open mind. I decided I was done hiding my struggles and my history. I was open about what was happening to me, and I was lucky enough to do that in a very open, accepting place.

So when you're having a bad night, when you're trying to resist the call of the pills on your nightstand, when it seems like you are never going to have another good day, just know that eventually things will change. You will be given the power to change what's happening, or your brain chemistry will change, or you'll find a place you feel safe enough to start the long journey back to happiness (that sounds hella cheesy, but I mean it).

A year ago I was contemplating suicide, now I've come to a point where I can use my pain and my struggle to hopefully help someone else, even just one person. I was able to take control of my depression and anxiety, and use that pain for good. You're going to come out of your pain with a new strength, what will you do with it?

Fancy Pants

When I’m not in school, I work in the Marketing & Events Department (also known as Intern Heaven) for a Health System. I adore this job, however, the first thing I do when I get home from work is ditch my dress clothes and go straight for the yoga pants. Well, the other day must have been particularly long because I paid so little attention when I was changing that I put my yoga pants on backwards. The best part of this whole thing was the fact that I did not notice for a solid three hours.

Eventually I looked down and thought, “Why is there a zipper there?” (You know that pocket where people who actually engage in physical activity while in yoga pants?) I remained befuddled for a decent stretch of time until I put two and two together and realized my pants were on backwards. After coming to this realization I looked down at my pants again, shrugged and said ‘whatever’.

I mean I’m in yoga pants, am I really expecting to see anyone A) who is important enough to warrant me needing real pants or B) anyone who was going to pay close enough attention to my thighs that they’d notice my backwards pants? The answer is no, though to be totally honest even if I did see my one of my bosses whilst wearing my backwards pants, that is so far from something that could embarrass me.

So there is a point to telling you this story, I promise, and here it is. In life, you’re gonna mess up. You may put your pants on the wrong way, or you may flunk an important test or completely screw up a big project, but even when you make those kinds of mistakes, its no reason to strip down and start all over. Embrace it! Mistakes are AWESOME. They suck, but after about 5 minutes you’re going to learn something important that’ll make you a better person and you will survive (Even if your parents say they’re going to kill you. They’re not, I promise.)

So mess things up, make mistakes, embrace them and move on. Backwards yoga pants have never caused the world to burn, and neither will the wonderful mistakes you make.

Never Apologize for the Events that Made You Who You Are

PB and One Tree

So, I am 21 years old, halfway to 22, and I am just now learning to love myself. I've spent the last few days and nights primarily by myself. Today, after hanging out with my best friend in the world, I was alone. I did laundry, I watched Netflix, I made pasta and I just hung out, by myself, with myself.

Being alone used to terrify me. There was nowhere to hide when I was alone. Without anyone t pretend for, I was quickly surrounded by my fears, insecurities, flaws and the reality I wasn't ready to deal with.

The realization wasn't sudden or overwhelming. It was a brief thought, followed by a content smile and a return to my new love, peanut butter ice cream. Seriously have you people tried this stuff? I mean peanut butter ice cream with a fudge ribbon and monster cookie chunks. It's incredibly delicious and I wish I'd discovered it sooner...but I digress.

Being alone can be scary and terrifying and you will try to avoid it like it will be the death of you because, sometimes, it feels like it will be. Panic attacks, the deepest bouts of depression and the most dangerous thoughts all seem to come when no one is around and the only sounds are the voices taunting you. But despite all of that bad stuff, there's gonna be good stuff. There's going to come a point where being alone isnt tears and pills and pain. Being alone will be dancing around like an idiot to loud music, watching a marathon of One Tree Hill (Brooke Davis is my #1 role model btw) and ice cream.

One day, after a lot of bad times, long struggles and hard fights, being alone is not going to be terrifying, its going to be peanut butter ice cream.