It's a very long post, so you can either read it.. or skip it.
I have debated sharing my struggles with mental health for a while but never felt like I had an outlet or a place that was safe for me to talk about it. What better place then on a blog where hundreds of strangers can see it, read it, and silently judge me? Yes, that's where my mind first goes because of the lovely friend I have named anxiety. I have to constantly remind myself, "You are not the only person who feels this way, you aren't the only one who feels alone in a room full of people. Speak up, get it out, help someone who might be going through what you are and won't talk about it."
At the age of 14 I was diagnosed with severe anxiety and depression. It was hard, kids my age talked about mental illness as something to be ashamed of and acted like people with mental illnesses were "crazy." I wouldn't necessarily say I was crazy, I just had very little motivation to live.
One day after my parents had separated (they're back together now) I was sitting in my dads apartment and I just sat on the couch and stared out the window for hours. I didn't have anything on TV or any music playing. I was simply sitting in silence looking outside. That's the first time my dad had noticed something was not right. Over the next few weeks he had been watching me and had talked to my mom about watching me as well. I was so wrapped up in my own head and my own world I didn't even notice that they had been keeping tabs.
I stopped going out with friends, I stopped singing, listening to music, and dancing. I had stopped all of it because I just could not find joy in the things that used to make me happy. I remember this went on for about 2 months and one night I had been watching TV with my dad when all of a sudden I started crying. He asked me what was wrong and I couldn't answer, because honestly I didn't know. He thought it might be due to the separation, or school, heck it could have been because my friends weren't around much. Honestly, to this day I don't know what was wrong, it felt like nothing but everything all at the same time.
I had been crying so hard that I sent myself into a frenzy, I couldn't breathe and my inhaler wasn't helping. This was much more than an asthma attack. I felt like I was drowning, like if I took a deep breath I would suffocate. It was by far the scariest moment of my life. I was hyperventilating and there was no sign of slowing down. My poor dad didn't know what to do, so he got me in the car and took me to the hospital. I remember the whole way there my dad just kept telling me to breathe, he was trying to keep my mind occupied with my favorite songs and trying to get me to talk but I couldn't. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe normal breaths, my heart and lungs felt like they were going to pop right out of my chest.
When we got to the hospital I was seen immediately (I guess it's not completely normal for a 14 year old to come in with severe chest pains) they hooked me up to machines, IV's because I was severely dehydrated due to not taking care of my health, and a breathing treatment machine. The problem was that I couldn't get my breathing under control for the treatment to work. With nebulizers you have to take long breaths of the foggy medication for it to get into your lungs. Finally after 10 minutes of realizing that it was not my asthma they put some sort of tranquilizer in my IV. It took another 10 minutes for it to take effect but once it did, I was finally able to breathe, I was able to talk, and I was ready to get answers. I was sent home and told to follow up with my primary care physician the next day.
My mom took me to my Dr the following afternoon, we spent about an hour talking about everything going on in my head and how I was feeling. Finally we had a diagnosis. I had suffered a major panic attack and had clinical depression. Depression runs in my family but I'd never actually seen what it can do to a person first hand. I spent the next 3 years hiding my illness, I had told a couple people and their reactions were always the same... "But you're life is so great." or my personal favorite "You don't look like the typer of person who would have depression." What are we supposed to look like? Are we supposed to live in sweat pants, look a mess, and never talk to anyone to fill your stigma of what depression is? So from then on I went ahead with life pretending like I was a normal teenager all the while depending on medication to keep my head above water.
When the wreck happened I was two months shy of my 18th birthday (read about the accident here.) I had been doing well and my medication had helped majorly throughout the years. However, once I woke up in a hospital room unable to move my neck and wired and tubes poking out of me everywhere I went straight into panic mode. I was
I made the decision to do everything in my power to leave that hospital as soon as I could. Thinking back, I wish I wouldn't have pushed myself as hard because now I have issues that could have been corrected had I not pushed myself as hard. But you live and learn right?
Fast forward to December 2011 about 3 months POST wreck. I had been having nightmares and panic attacks in my sleep. I was in a neck brace, so when I would have these episodes it literally felt like someone was strangling me and I couldn't breathe. I would get into spells where I would be overly happy and excited for a week or two and the CRASH and burn with sadness that couldn't be solved.
Once again I made my way to the doctors to talk about what was happening. That was the day I was diagnosed with Panic disorder, PTSD, and Severe Depression bordering on Manic Depressive Disorder. Now I really felt crazy. I couldn't even handle my life when I was asleep. How the heck was I supposed to handle it while I was awake? The answer was always the same... Medication. So I took the medication and moved on with my life.
Fast forward to March of this year. I had been doing extremely well with my disorders and physical ailments (thanks to the 14 pills a day I was taking.) Cameron and I finally decided we were ready to start a family and add one more to our household. I headed to the doctor to talk about what I needed to do in order to make my body "baby friendly." The first answer was drop as many medications as possible.
I was terrified. I'd been on medication for 3 1/2 years. The easiest medication to get off of was the 12 pills for my physical health. I replaced a lot of the medication with vitamins and supplements. What I was afraid to come off of was my "crazy meds" and my sleeping medication. The first couple months I had episodes constantly. I would be overly happy and then the next week I would be so angry or upset that I would scream and cry for hours. There were even a couple times I blacked out because I was so upset and I don't remember anything but "coming to" on the floor crying. It was hard. I almost thought it was impossible and I was close to giving up.
Finally in about May I decided to sit down with myself and have a talk (that sounds crazy but hear me out.) It was a day that Cameron was gone and I was home alone. I sat on my bed and closed the door so the animals couldn't get in and interrupt me and my thoughts. I remember telling myself "This illness does not define you. You are so much more than this. You can be happy without medication. You just need to find something worth being happy for." It's not that I wasn't happy with my life. I had everything anyone could want at 21. I owned my own house, my car, had animals, and a loving husband. I just needed something to push me to realize I was a genuinely happy person.
I thought about bringing a baby into the world and that's when it clicked. I didn't want to bring a child into this world until I was happy with myself. I didn't want to have to raise a child and be on medication to make me happy. So right then and there I decided "I can do this, I don't need anything but love for myself to be happy." Since that day I haven't touched medication again. I am not on any pills for physical or mental disabilities and I strive every day to be a better person than I was yesterday.
I still have a hard time going out in public to places without someone with me. Even the grocery store puts me in a panic, like everyone is watching me and judging me for what I look like or what I buy. I just have to remind myself that we are all there for the same reason, and people don't care about me at the grocery store. They are too wrapped in their own lives to worry about what I buy for dinner.
Earlier this week I had my first episode since March/April. It was scary, I didn't know how I was going to continue without Cameron home to occupy my mind and keep me focused on something else until the panic was gone. I was laying in bed and getting ready to go to sleep when the ever so familiar feeling of drowning came back. It felt like someone was sitting on my chest and literally sucking the life out of me. Luckily Cameron was able to text me and relieve my stress. I still struggle daily on how to make myself happy and confident in my own skin, but every day I remind myself why I don't need medication.
I understand, every ones struggle is different. Some people aren't able to get off of their medication, and that's OKAY. It doesn't make you less of a person or make you unlovable. Just be yourself and do what you need to do to be the best person you can be, whether it's by getting help by medication or finding someone to talk to. You are worth it. You are amazing. You deserve this life just as much as everyone else. Most importantly, you are never alone.
The most common underlying disorder is depression, 30% to 70% of suicide victims suffer from major depression or bipolar (manic-depressive) disorder. If you or someone you know is contemplating suicide, call 1-800-SUICIDE (1-800-784-2433) or 1-800-273-TALK (1-800-273-8255).
Remember: Eight out of ten people considering suicide give some sign of their intentions. People who talk about suicide, threaten suicide, or call suicide crisis centers are 30 times more likely than average to kill themselves. Talk with the person about your concerns. Communication needs to include LISTENING.
Statistics and information provided by http://www.mentalhealthamerica.net/
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