< Reach Out >

It is with great hesitation that I type this post..
For the past 3 months, ever since the passing of Robin Williams, I have had this little nagging thought in the back of my mind that I need to share a little bit more of my 'story'. Robin Williams death was extremely difficult for me. Odd, I know. It's not like he was my friend, or that we'd ever even met. I also was not an overly obsessed fan of his or anything either. His death just hits way too close to home for me I guess. So, here I am, 3 months after his passing, full of emotion, ready (although with hesitation) to really share my story. Bear with me as I am in no way a grammatical/English language genius. In fact, far from it...

At 10 years old I was diagnosed with Anxiety. Unbeknownst to myself or my parents, I had actually been having anxiety attacks for years. We just didn't realize that's what my little 'episodes' were. My mom took me to the Dr. for something totally unrelated. I was constantly having to pee. Like 10 times a day. After ruling out obvious things, like a UTI, the Dr. asked more questions. After lots of questions, he, with great concern told my Mom and I that he believed I was suffering from Anxiety. He immediately prescribed Paxil. After a couple of months, I began having really scary thoughts of not wanting to deal with life anymore, which progressed to full on suicidal thoughts by age 12. At this point, I was taken to a psychiatrist that was recommended by a close relative. He had me slowly go off of Paxil, and try other medications. I was then diagnosed with depression, possibly triggered by the Paxil. For 10 years, I was on one medication or another, in hopes of making life a little more bearable.

The anxiety and depression just kept building on each other, making life miserable at times. Some days were better than others. Sometimes I was lucky enough to go a couple weeks feeling 'normal'. I was living each day in fear of the next. Over many years, I made some choices that I was not always proud of, but in the end taught me some amazing truths about life. Most of these choices I made, I eventually learned were possibly fueled by my later diagnoses of 'Rapid Cycling Bipolar Disorder with Seasonal Affective Disorder.'

3 years ago, everything changed, again. After struggling immensely with depression that I didn't think I could overcome, I checked myself into a mental health facility. [That's probably the hardest sentence I've ever typed.] I was struggling so badly that I just really did not think I could go on any longer. A feeling I've felt many times in my life, but this being the second time ever feeling it so severely.  While under the care of many Doctors specializing in Mental health, I gained some tools to handle life a little better. When released, I had to see a psychiatrist and therapist often. This is when I was diagnosed to have Rapid Cycling Bipolar Disorder with Seasonal Affective Disorder.

There's so much shame that comes with admitting to all of that. That I went to the 'looney bin' I mean. But there shouldn't have to be. That is the exact reason I am finally writing this post. No one should ever have to feel ashamed for getting the medical treatment they need. Whether it is to have a life saving surgery, or a life saving stay at a mental health facility, aren't they both equally important? In the end, not getting medical attention for either one has the same possible outcome.

Fast forward 3 years, to right now, this very moment. My house is a literal mess. My children are spending more time in their pajamas than they should and eating more chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese than I would ever care to admit (<---- Anyone who knows how much time and energy I put into creating healthy food for my family can probably guess how much that bothers me). All because I can't quite get a handle on my mental health at the moment.

I've been free of medication for over 2 years now. I've been doing everything I possibly can to avoid getting back on medication. I've drastically changed my diet. I stay away from gluten, dairy, and sugar (most of the time). Things have changed so much. I could never have imagined how amazing I've felt while being on such a drastically changed diet. I was beyond amazed the first day I felt like a 'normal' person, after 6 weeks of sticking to a very strict healthy diet. My head felt clear for the first time in my life. I felt as though things made sense. Life was great. Everything was wonderful.
I was able to continue feeling great for a month or two. Then, there was a gathering where I 'slipped' and had something with dairy &/or gluten, and felt horrible again for about a month. This cycle of feeling great, then slipping, feeling horrible, etc. has happened several times now. Every time, I tell myself how stupid it was, and that I won't do it again.

Over my Birthday weekend, I had the most delicious chocolate mousse dessert from Red Robin. How could I pass up eating my favorite dessert, while celebrating my birthday, for free? I even discussed it with Kodi. We agreed together that my Birthday was reason enough to slip up and eat something so delicious.
Boy, was I wrong. Nothing is worth what it cost me, and is still doing to me now, 2 weeks later. It takes a long time for dairy to fully get out of your system. For me, it seems to take about 4-6 weeks.
I shouldn't have indulged. And I hope to get back to better health in a few weeks.

A lot of people ask me why I won't just get back on medication. I have many answers for that question. Right now, my main answer is because I'm nursing my 21 month old. She struggles with sensory processing disorder and uses nursing to 'cope'. We are working on finding other coping strategies for her, but it is not an overnight process, and can lead to lots of long term damage if done abruptly. Now, I know many will say that there are medications that can help me, while not going through breast milk. This. This is a personal decision. I have read lots of differing information on this topic. I also already have major guilt for being on 5 different medications (that are not safe for pregnancy) when I got pregnant with Sophia. Had that pregnancy been planned, I most definitely would not have been on those medications. I don't know if I'll ever get over that guilt. All I can do is move forward, and try to make the best, well researched, informed decisions for both her and myself.

What I want to stress is that I DO believe medication can do great things. I truly do. I can see that in the near future I will probably need the assistance of some medication. I also believe that not ALL medications are meant to be used long term. BUT, if someone is so mentally unstable, that they are not safe, yes, most definitely, medication can literally be a life saver, or even just help someone get back on their feet and able to take the next step to better mental health. And yes, in many cases medications are a lifelong thing. And it's up to each person, with the correct professional care, to figure out what is best for them.

So, what am I doing right now, while not on medication? I've been reaching out to close family and friends. I'm reading up on things to do to help with my current depression and anxiety. I'm *trying* to eat healthy.

If only one thing is gained from this post, I hope it is this:
Reach out. Get the help you need. I know sometimes it seems easier to hide your true hurting inside, behind a fake smile. But please, don't try to fight your ailment alone. It's okay to need help. People are in our lives for a reason. If you feel you don't have anyone to help, there are many resources in most communities and online to get the help you need. And if in desperate need, there is a National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-8255. 

PLEASE, don't suffer alone. No matter how alone you feel, someone out there would much rather you get help from them, than suffer alone. Even if all you can do is send a simple text to someone letting them know you could use a virtual hug. That could be the first step to getting help ;) I sit here, emotional, thinking of how alone and confused Robin Williams must have felt. How alone and confused my dear Uncle must have felt. How alone and confused I have felt at times. How alone and confused so many people feel. To get to feeling that ending their life is the only option. It is not. There is help!

If this is all foreign to you, and you don't understand how someone could ever feel that way, consider yourself blessed.  Reach out to those who might be suffering. They don't want to feel that way. Be a listening ear to a lost soul. Read up on depression and mental health, to better understand.

Our society has come a long way recently, in recognizing all of this to be real issues that can no longer be ignored. Mental Illness doesn't have to be a shameful, untouchable topic. In this, I have great hope.

I dedicate this long, rambling post to my loving Uncle Jordan, who I miss every day, and left this earth all too soon.