Fix You

For almost two years, I just thought I had writers block. I would start to type, only to delete everything by the end of a few failed paragraphs. I would come here to try to weave together sentences about random things I wanted to talk about, but I couldn't. As a life-long writer with a degree in journalism, it was beyond frustrating. I had always been able to sit down at a computer and bang an essay out in no time, or figure out how to express my thoughts on whatever I was trying to communicate. I tried to write about things I cared deeply about; things like Iowa sports, challenging the status quo, people, etc. - but still, I came up blank. 

Then it hit me. It wasn't writers block - it was depression.

My last post on here, almost two years ago, was a very tough one for me to write. It was written a few weeks shy of a diagnosis I never thought I would have: depression. Months before that word entered into my vocabulary, I had been feeling a low I've never experienced before, an overwhelming sadness that began to consume my soul. I felt guilty for feeling sad, because it felt unjust. I had a job, a home, friends and family galore, hobbies, and the cutest dog in the entire word. I had a "happy life". But that's the thing about depression - it doesn't care. I knew something wasn't right, but for so long I fought to acknowledge it, thinking that there's no way someone like me could be depressed. Turns out, depression doesn't look the same on everyone. Depression lives in smiles, hugs, laughter, but also sorrow, isolation and grief. It lives in bright colors, and in darkness. It lives in people who love their job, and those who hate it - it doesn't discriminate. 

One of the scariest things I've done in my life is admit that I am broken. I had worn a mask for most of my life where the cracks were so delicately concealed, that I had convinced so many people that everything was perfect. I was so good at pretending, that I had almost convinced myself that the perception was reality. But after watching a disgusting amount of reality TV, even I know that you can't believe everything you see. So, I found a therapist and a psychologist who worked together to help me come to terms with some pretty tough shit. They helped me though some of my most compressed memories, and experiences - and gave me the tools and medications I needed to start chipping away at the darkness that had engulfed my light. I owed it to myself to learn healthy coping mechanisms, and to genuinely feel the things I had so desperately tried to suppress for years. I owed it to myself to remove my mask.

I was in therapy and trying different kinds of medications for about a year. It was a whirlwind of emotion and energy where I was given the tools to handle the shit life throws at you. I feel incredibly lucky to have been able to walk into my first appointment and feel an immediate connection with my therapist. I remember feeling emotionally drained and full simultaneously, but more importantly, heard and validated, for the first time in a very long time. I learned so much about myself, and why I am the way I am. I practiced, and continue to practice, how to accept my past and present without spiraling or emotionally collapsing. By no means am I where I want to be, but it's astonishing how far I have come. I am able to face situations with a new understanding of who I am, and therefore, what I need in order to succeed. I grew up a lot in the past two years, a lot of changes were hurled at me, - and life, the bitch she is,  continues to throw grenades in my path. Today however, I can say that I am equipped with the tools I need to understand, cope with, and eventually heal from the wounds they will inevitably inflict.

It is World Mental Health Day, and I am so proud to share my story. There should be no shame, or stigma associated with mental health and therapy. Mental health shouldn't be an avoided topic, or taboo, it should be celebrated! We should challenge the stereotypes of depression or anxiety, we should encourage our friends to go to therapy, or at least talk about their feelings - think of the changes we could see in the world if we all understood a little bit more about our neighbors!

One last note - I can not over emphasize the importance of therapy in my life, but that might not be what's right for you. I encourage you to find whatever it is that brings you light, whether it's dancing in the rain, singing in your living room, or walking your dog - do it. There will be bad days ahead, but find that one thing that sparks your light and hold onto it when things get dark.