Disclaimer: I am writing this with a major, MAJOR disclaimer. I am not a doctor, licensed medical professional, psychologist, therapist – you name it, I am not it. So, you’re probably wondering why I’m writing this. What I share in this blog post took me years to write. No, it took me years to accept. And I know that in sharing this story, others may find the courage to seek the help that they need and rightly deserve. Please, DO NOT take this as medical advice. If you are struggling, seek help from a medical professional. There are so many resources out there to help you.
It’s a journey
My battle with my mental health started when I was 15. Back and forth my mind fought with my body which fought with my heart and they all ganged up on my soul. I found my little self struggling to understand the lies my mind was feeding me about who I was, what I looked like, what I should be eating, and so on.
I spent years in therapy and I’m pretty sure at one point in college I counted 7 or 8 different therapists had been a part of my recovery journey. The number is bigger now.
At various points throughout that journey, I was on anti-depressants. In fact, my mom (God Bless her) wrote down each medication I was on, for how long, and what my symptoms were. The problem was, I didn’t take any of them long enough to see an effect, because I was scared.
I was scared of becoming dependent. I was scared of gaining weight. I was scared they would change who I was.
And those fears lived with me for 12 years. “I don’t need medication. I am stronger than that,” I’d tell myself. So, I dove head first into therapy and, as a high-functioning, type A, first born, took on too many extra-curricular activities, spent lots of time perfecting my work (in school and post-college), and went on proving that I didn’t need anything.
On the outside, everything seemed fine…
And being a high-functioning, anxiety-ridden adult who succeeds in lots of areas of life means that to the world, I look fine. In fact, I look great. Good job, strong relationships, deep faith, healthy, active – all a recipe for success.
Except, even after years and years of therapy and changing my lifestyle and cutting out certain triggers and breaking away from unhelpful and unhealthy relationships and learning how to cope quite well, I was still feeling like I couldn’t breathe in a crowded room. My mind was still racing from the moment I woke up to the moment the melatonin kicked in and I could sleep for a bit. I was still experiencing irrational thoughts and fears and having panic attacks and this was all when I thought I had it together.
“I HAVE IT TOGETHER,” I’d tell myself time and time again.
But maybe I didn’t have it together… and that realization came at one point when I couldn’t get out of bed or stop crying or stop panicking. And THOSE, for me, were symptoms that something was really, really wrong.
A new journey
So, I did what I hadn’t done in a long time. I found a new therapist – one who also incorporated spiritual direction into her practice.
And the additional therapy helped, but one day she said to me, “Have you ever considered an anti-depressant?”
I recoiled in horror. “No, I don’t think I need something like that… at least, I’ve always been told I don’t.”
“Just think about it,” she said.
And as time went on, things were slowly improving, but I was still struggling. I was still facing racing thoughts, sleepless nights, fears, panic attacks, etc., despite my best efforts to pray harder, love myself more, workout more intuitively, and eat healthy.
“I think I’m ready to try medicine,” I said as mightily as I could on her voicemail.
Then, I scheduled an appointment with a psychologist.
And I’ve felt so much better ever since.
Fighting the stigma
It took me a while to get past the stigma and for my therapist to convince me time and time again that it won’t change who I am. That God created the doctors who created the medicine. And that taking medicine doesn’t mean I’m weak. In fact, it means I’m strong enough to push past the way our culture looks at medicine and take the step in my mental health that’s been needed for so long.
I learned that I’m really not alone.
And I wasn’t alone
During this time, I shared with a priest that I had started taking an anti-depressant and that I was feeling so great. And his response? “Oh praise the Lord! That’s so beautiful.” And then he talked about how wonderful it is that I can feel God’s presence in my life, and I can smile and laugh without fear, and that he’s proud of me that I took care of myself.
And I was brimming from ear to ear, because he got it. The Church gets it. Jesus gets it.
I even expressed to him my new feelings of jealousy and anger and he said, “Praise God, because now you can feel feelings. Not just anxious feelings or depressed feelings. So, when you feel, thank God that you can now live your life with all of the feelings He’s created.”
I’ve never felt more heard, loved, and accepted.
So, I’m sharing this with you, because I often wonder what my life would look like if I’d read this story years ago. If I’d read of someone taking a major and scary step in their mental health journey to get better. Maybe I would’ve taken that step sooner.
Medication is not for everyone. But I’m not a doctor. I’m just here to tell a story (albeit true), so that you know you’re not alone on what can surely be a confusing journey. So, please seek help from a medical professional.
I don’t think I’ll be on medication for the rest of my life. But it’s helping me right now, as I learn more and more about who God created me to be. I still feel anxious at times. I still feel sad and lonely and all of the feelings we’re meant to feel. But they don’t consume me like they used to.
If you’re feeling and experiencing things that you’re just not sure about, it is OK to seek help. It doesn’t mean you’re crazy. It doesn’t mean you’re a failure. It doesn’t mean you have a mental illness. A lot of us feel anxious or depressed at times. And that’s okay. We’re created by an all-loving God who gave us a whole range of emotions. Sometimes, we need therapy or medication or self-help to get us through a rough patch.
My plea to you is that you take care of yourself right here and right now.
