This might sound weird but…
On June 20th I called into work sick for the 5th time this year. Those that know me, know that I never call in sick, I never take vacation randomly, and always work my hardest at everything I put my hands to.
I called in sick because for the millionth+ time in my life-my anxiety and depression had taken over my ability to function and to regulate my emotional well-being. I’ve struggled with anxiety for almost as long as I can remember. I was that eight year old little girl that had to pray for hours before bed in order to place “protective bubbles” around everyone I loved to keep them out of harms way. I was that ten year old girl that was afraid of sleeping because I couldn’t get my brain to quiet down for the night. I was that fifteen year old girl that made plans with her friends and then canceled at the last minute. I was that nineteen year old girl that changed Universities and lost contact with all of the beautiful and wonderful friends she made her freshmen year despite thinking of them almost daily. I was that twenty-three year old that pushed my partner away and self-sabotaged my relationship. I was that twenty-something year old that allowed her partners to mistreat her and take advantage of her.
I was also that seventeen year old that was sexually assaulted. A seventeen year old that developed trust issues. A seventeen year old that lost control of her life for almost the next decade. A girl that developed insomnia, and learned what it really meant to be self-loathing. I gained a lot of weight really quickly, struggled with depression in the most severe way since since I was really young, and lost myself along the way.
When I was twenty-five I decided to take action and really focus on my mental health. I began my journey and started seeing a therapist, I had begun taking SSRIs and other medications and for the last two years I’ve been in self-discovery mode. I traveled last year to Portland, Seattle, and Canada by myselfand learned more about who I am as a person. I’ve learned that although I grew up in the church, I have always questioned my faith and gotten in trouble for “asking too many questions that don’t have answers.” I learned that I don’t fit in with the rest of my family in that sense-I have never agreed with some of the choices they make and practices they uphold and I’ve accepted that I never will. I’m open to discussion and communication, but I’m also firm on what I believe and how I want to treat others.
I also learned how to really self-sabotage and destroy relationships. I learned how to avoid my feelings in fear of flashbacks and nightmares. I learned how to run away from my problems and shut down emotionally. I learned how to bottle everything in until everything I am feeling comes out in one tear-filled day. My healing has not been linear (thank goodness for @thefrizzkid)
At twenty-six I had had enough. I prepared for the worst. Nothing was helping, the prescriptions were a mixture of side effects. One helped with my depression, but strongly triggered my anxiety, another helped with my depression, but made me foggy and unorganized. The pros and cons list is strenuous and long-trust me I’ve done the reading and been to the consistent doctor’s appointments, and told my therapist how I’m feeling, and given things a shot. I was done. I desperately wanted to get better, but didn’t know what was wrong or how to “fix it.” My parents had to come take care of me in Austin on my worst days and my poor boyfriend and friends were holding me together like sand running through their hands.
Then one of my wonderful friends suggested a program with Seton Behavioral Health. An Intensive Outpatient Program. I thought about it for a couple of days. It seemed hard and scary. Group therapy for four days a week from 6:00PM to 9:00PM for 5 WHOLE WEEKS?? I hated myself for wanting to try it, I had resigned to the misery that was my life in that moment. But I’m a xicana, and I don’t give up. It’s in my blood to fight like hell.
I called and made my intake appointment on June 20, 2016 and started IOP the very next day. It’s now July 20th and I’m a month in with only a handful of sessions left. I’ve learned so much about myself and have so much hope for my future. A future I’ve never been able to envision. I’ve learned about self compassion, self care, and self love. I’ve learned to communicate how I’m feeling and to let others know when I need help. I’m still going to struggle and relapse is a guarantee. But I’m going to push forward and keep working on myself. One of the best things I have learned from IOP is to say to those I love
“hey…I know this might be weird, and I know in the past I’ve been really insecure/self sabotaging/careless/cold/flaky/distant/obsessive/controlling/a push over, etc., but I’m trying something new. It might be weird at first, but lets give it a try.”
I write this post not thinking anyone will really read it, but to express myself in a way I haven’t really been comfortable doing before. I want my friends and family that might also be suffering from Generalized Anxiety or Depression to know that it gets better once you find the right tools for you. Don’t give up on yourself. You are worth so much and there are people that want you to stick around and keep trying. Including me, reach out to me. Ask me about my journey, tell me what has worked for you. If you’re reading this I so greatly appreciate you. Thanks for taking the time to hear my thoughts and heart ache. I plan on continuing to share my “non-linear” journey of healing so stick around. This should get interesting.
