I knew the day would come where I'd post this on
my blog. I just didn't know it'd come so soon. It’s been hard for me to write
because I’m being completely open and vulnerable. I’m not writing this to get
sympathy but rather to help the people in my life realize that you are not
alone…and my “Instagram perfect” life is far from perfect. *takes a deep
breathe* Here…we…go…
Last October, I went on an AMAZING trip to
Boston. I stayed with my uncles and explored the city on my own. I stepped out
of my comfort zone and loved every minute of my trip. While I did wish someone
else came with me, I fell in love with traveling on my own. It felt so freeing.
It was a HUGE step into "becoming me" as I did what I wanted, found
fun places to eat and explore, and traveled by subway on my own. It was blissful ten days of my life.
When I came home from Boston, I noticed a change
in me. I had some upsetting things happen in my personal life that just really
knocked me down so I assumed it was just a "hard time." I started to
feel uncomfortable at church and social events. I felt like I was always crying
or getting in my car and driving away from feelings, problems, and sooo maaaany
stressors. Life was changing and it was completely out of my control. I pulled
away from friends and being social and threw myself into work. I worked all the
time, picking up shifts and then in late November, I started working full time.
I distracted myself from...myself...and focused on helping those around me. I
really "grew" as a tech and loved the confidence I felt at work. I
took control during shifts, made a lot of decisions and really stepped into the
spotlight. I felt amazing during those eight or nine hours at work…but I’d come
home and couldn’t sleep. My mind would pick out the one thing that went wrong,
begin to race and race and I couldn’t control these episodes of spiraling
thoughts. I felt trapped in my own mind.
Around January and February, I couldn't stand
the lack of sunlight and the constant snow. Normally, I love the overcast and
snowy weather but at that time, I’d dreaded looking out the window to see snow
falling. I started posting on snapchat and instagram my many "coping
skills" I was learning at work--some self care activities (getting my
nails done, going to the movies, driving up mountains even when it was super
snowy and not a good idea, blasting music all the time) and bought myself some
stress balls and kinetic sand. I opened up to a few people how I felt but
mostly kept to myself again. I took some trips to California and felt the
sunlight. I even took a video saying how much I loved the sun! I was doing
fine. It's just a rough patch, I said, over and over again in my mind.
Utah Lake "Adventure" Drive |
Then in March, I was hit with a really hard day, my lowest of lows.
I woke up feeling hopeless. I didn't want to even go to work, which is where I
always felt best. I jumped in my car and starting driving around Utah Lake. I
wanted to see the other side of the lake and I kept driving and didn’t stop. Luckily,
I ended up going to work. One of my coworkers who came halfway through the
shift could tell I was not doing well. She asked if she could do anything for
me and I just asked for a hug. The patients saw and "awww"-ed as I
walked quickly off the unit so they didn't see me cry. My coworker followed me
and asked what was wrong. Through my tears, I stated, "What's the point of
all this? What's the point of trying so hard and nothing ever gets better? I
just feel so hopeless." As she hugged me, she said, “Megan…you need
to see someone. You realize that, right? You need to get help.” I shook my head
yes…
BUT THAT BOTHERED ME. "I don't need
help," I said to myself. It's just a hard time. I didn't listen to the
people in my life looking out for me. Instead, I listened to the thoughts in my
head.
"Maybe therapy wouldn't be so bad."
"But, Megan, you have to be strong."
"You can do this without help."
"You need to be more faithful: pray harder,
go to the temple, read your scriptures."
"You are an example to so many people. You
can’t break."
"You have always been positive through
trials."
"People look to you for your
happiness."
“How can you be a therapist if you can’t handle your own
mental health?”
"You're fine."
"You can handle this, you're just being a
whimp."
"You'd be weak to get
help."
As you can see, my thoughts spiraled. I'd start with something positive and within minutes, my brain would switch and tell me how it's weak to get help. That night, leaving work, I still felt horrible. I don't know how I got through those four work hours. I got into my car and knew that if I went home, I would sit in my room and cry. I texted a friend and he said I could come over but that he was finishing a paper. I told him I'd wait in my car. I was spiraling pretty bad, so bad that I didn't notice my friend calling me. I was paralyzed with fear and sadness and all these confusing thoughts. I couldn't make them go away, no matter how hard I prayed, distracted myself, and surrounded myself with people.
I had a lot on my plate at that time and was
heading to London in a week. I told myself, after London. “After London…I’ll
get help. I’ll make an appointment with a therapist. I’ll figure things out.
I’ll be better.” And London was better. .
For seven wonderful busy days, I felt carefree. I woke up excited and felt
“back to normal.” Well, "after London" came. And I was still trying to
convince myself that I was fine. I wasn't running into the bathroom to cry at
work and I was feeling a bit better...but those post vacation blues hit me
hard.
Again my
coworker told me “you have to make an appointment.” She
“threatened” me and I ended up making my first therapy appointment. On the way
to the appointment, my mind was racing “You don’t need this. You’re fine. It’s
just a phase…” and at that point, I had self diagnosed myself with seasonal
depression—my worst days were without sun. I was terrified as I walked into the
office. But my therapist made me feel at ease. It was just the “get to know
you” appointment but those 60 minutes and came with a diagnosis: dysthymia,
which according to google is a “mild but long term depression.” While the
phrase “long term” scared me, I had a diagnois, an “identity” and that all that
mattered.
Self Care: Straight Hair and FroYo |
But the
days ahead were far from easy. That first appointment was on April 20th
and three months later, I can finally say that I’m learning more about myself,
my mind my triggers, my good days and my bad days. Luckily for me, I got into a
doctor pretty quick and the first medication he prescribed did the trick. But
the hard days were and are far from over. And I really didn’t like that.
Therapy and medication were working but I found myself still hitting some bad
days. My therapist told me I was normal and it took me a couple of weeks to
realize that she was right. I am normal. I struggle with depression and anxiety
but everyone struggles with something. And everyone has bad days, everyone.
I recently found myself talking to someone who was clearly struggling but stated that helping others made them feel better. I asked if she cared about herself and she quickly shook her head no. I realized in that moment how hypocritical I had been. I had been “silently” struggling since October and everyday, I went to work to help others, encouraging them to get help and get better. But it took six months to help myself. And now that I “help myself” daily by medication, bimonthly with therapy and lots of self care techniques, my capacity to care and help others increased beyond my previous capacities…
…which
leads me my latest “I-Want-To-Help-The-World” project also known as a new
Instagram account called “small victories.” I was talking to my mom the other day
about how she needed to get a mantra. I’m a BIG fan of quotes, song lyrics and
just words. I’ve recently counseled patients at work that they should create a
mantra, a simple phrase you can say over and over to help you throughout this
life. If you follow me on any social media site, you know that my mantra is
“Sky Above Me, Earth Below Me, Fire Within Me.” My mom and I were talking about
how we can find the positives in everyday to which I realized that there are million
of small victories every day: something as simple as showering to something
more complex such as nailing that job interview. The size of the victory
doesn’t matter—the important thing is that they happen. And I think our world would be better off to
notice them.
My on-going
experience with depression has led to me to a new Instagram account, @small_victories_ and it's public! I plan to post at least every day my small victories or
positive points to my day and I’ll gladly take submissions through private
messages or tags on Instagram. If there’s anything our “social media world”
needs, it’s more positivity, honesty, and celebration of small victories.