June 22

3 years ago today I was able to walk out of a mental hospital, still alive and breathing. A week before that, I attempted to take my own life. During my 5 day stay at the hospital, I was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder and Social Anxiety. My life was changed after my diagnoses because then it all made sense. Things started connecting. I immediately started outpatient therapy. 
In 2017, I went back to the mental hospital, but I still consider June 22, 2014 my first day of recovery. Why? Because that’s the day when my life started. I knew what I needed to do to stay alive now and being in therapy was one of those things. I started taking antidepressants and trying to turn my life around. 

So I want to thank all of you who have put up with me during not only all these years, but especially the last 3 years. It’s been a rollercoaster ride of finding the right medications, the right therapist, in group therapy, out of group therapy, losing friends but making new friends… Recovery is not all candy and rainbows and unicorns. It’s hard work and I couldn’t be doing it without all the support, so thank you. ❤️

Clinched Fists

I almost didn’t write this month. It’s been a busy month, with vacation, my nieces and nephew coming to town, and of course school. So I figured I could skip a month. What’s the harm, right?

The thing is, when I started this blog, I promised myself I would never skip a month. The reasoning behind that is simple: I start things and then when it gets too tough, I quit. I hate when I do it, but I keep letting myself do it.

I have been in school for only one term, which is ten weeks, and I have begged my mother and even myself to let me quit when it got too difficult. But I didn’t. If I had quit in the first term in the first sign of difficulty, how pathetic would I be? I had made this a huge deal to myself, and friends and family. It was this big deal and everyone was excited for me. If I had let myself quit only 3 weeks in, really… How pathetic would I be?

Now I’m not saying I’m not going to want to quit later on. But I am saying that it won’t and can’t happen. I have too much on the line. I want so desperately to be a mental health counselor, so when I take the needed steps to do that, why would I let myself quit? 

I think as humans, our brains are wired to want to quit. Or to get out. It’s a scary situation, so our brain wants out. Rather, it is perceived as a scary situation. That’s what anxiety is, too. Our brain perceives this situation as scary, so it wants out. It needs that escape plan.

Does this make sense? I feel like I’m only rambling an incoherent mess. Most of these blogs, I am. It’s all just a mess from the inside of my racing brain.

I think the purpose of this blog is to remind myself and you to not quit. Life gets tough, it knocks us down, kicks us while we’re down there, and laughs in our face. It’s a bully. But we have to wipe away the blood, stand back up, and clinch our fists even tighter. Will it be difficult? Of course. But can we do it? Yes.

If you get nothing from my blogs, please get this: I am in your corner. I am cheering you on, and when you fall, I’ll encourage you to get back up. We’re all in this life together, so why not cheer each other on?