The past few months have been difficult for me both physically and mentally. The dreary weather and rain we have had have not only increased my depression but have also caused me to come down with colds and seasonal allergies. For two weeks, I was sick with a bad cold, which became an ear infection. I had to miss some work and I barely left the house. I was also supposed to be on my period at that time but didn’t have one I think because of the stress my body experienced from the sickness. I thought it was over and I could finally get back to normal but no I was wrong. After a week of being sick-free, I came down with a cold again. It wasn’t as bad as the first time but it was still insanely frustrating. My seasonal allergies have been bothering me on and off as well causing me to cough and use many tissues. My last period hit me extra hard due to not having one the month prior. I was very exhausted the week before and during my period as well as feeling depressed, emotional, and unmotivated. I felt the same the next period. In general, I usually start feeling PMS symptoms about two weeks before the period so most of the month is rough. Despite not having heavy periods due to being on birth control, I struggle a lot mentally before and during my period and sometimes even after.
I have PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome) a hormonal disorder that can cause depression and anxiety and can make these symptoms worse during menstrual cycles. Other symptoms of PCOS I personally struggle with or have struggled with are irregular and painful periods, weight gain, thinning hair, growing weird thick hairs on my chin, high androgen, and testosterone levels, and high blood sugar. Luckily, I have been able to manage some of these symptoms. I have been on an anti-depressant, Wellbutrin XL for over a year now. Taking supplements like inositol and berberine helped my blood sugar levels get out of the prediabetic range and into the normal range. Due to taking the supplements, my anti-depressant, and having a job that is physically taxing, I finally lost weight after five years of gaining it. Because of minoxidil, my hair is no longer thinning. On the other hand, my mental health is still up and down.
The stigma around mental health has greatly affected me. Therefore, I have had anxiety and depression for a lot longer than I realized. I have always been one to be self-critical and never gave myself the praise I deserved. Though I had more confidence as a kid and was more fearless, I still found myself striving for perfection, especially in school. I always found my validation in the praise I got at school but even then I still didn’t think I was doing enough or the best I could. I was famous for thinking I did terribly on an essay or a test but ended up getting an A. Even now every time I write something for the blog, I first think it is bad. My relationship with my dad has severely impacted how I saw myself and my self-worth. I have put a lot of pressure on myself over the years to not end up like my dad and that pressure has caused me to still push for perfection, overthink, and be intensely self-aware. Until I got on medication, I realized that within the last decade, I had many moments where I felt like I was just surviving rather than living. Meaning, I was just trying to get through the day rather than feeling good or content. In my sophomore year of college, I had an anxiety attack. I started feeling overwhelmed in a philosophy class and after the class, I went to my dorm and talked to my roommate about how I was feeling. My hands were shaky and I felt weak. I then went from laughing to full-on crying. My roommate was the one who informed me that I was having an anxiety attack. Luckily, I haven’t had another moment like this. Usually, my anxiety manifests in an everyday more constant way rather than giving me these intense attacks every so often. Grad school was when I realized I have been suffering from depression. During my first year of grad school, I was alone a lot. There were less than ten of us in my cohort and we didn’t have group work or anything that made it so we had to hang out together. The apartment I lived in was like a shoebox and it didn’t have much natural light. I was constantly in this shoebox which made matters worse. I felt super lonely. During my second year, I made sure I did homework on campus rather than being in my room all the time. I made more of an effort to put myself out there socially. However, between the stress of my thesis and balancing other schoolwork, I was struggling mentally. I remember crying to a classmate after she asked if I was okay and that is when I finally accepted that I wasn’t. I thought it was normal for me to feel lonely and sad because I was in a stressful environment. It didn’t occur to me that I could be dealing with mental illness. Also, I finished grad school in 2020 right when the pandemic started so I know that was contributing to my poor mental state. I want to mention that it wasn’t all bad. I did make some friends and I had great and kind roommates for both years. I also went home once a month and during breaks. I learned so much about myself and the world and it changed me for the better. I am who I am now because of grad school and I don’t regret it one bit.
Until I got on medication, I realized that within the last decade, I had many moments where I felt like I was just surviving rather than living.
Since I graduated from grad school almost three years ago, I have gone through a lot of tough times. I like all of us in society am still trying to figure out how to get my life back and adapt after a pandemic. I bounced around from job to job after getting laid off a couple of times and am still trying to figure out what I ultimately want to do. I realized I didn’t have any more friends at home. It seemed like everyone on social media was getting their life together, getting engaged, and having kids while I was nowhere near that point. I didn’t leave the house much due to not having a car to do things on my own or friends to do things with. As mentioned in this blog previously, I went through a painful breakup. My brother was in a bad motorcycle accident and thankfully survived it. My mom is having some health issues. Though I have been going to therapy, almost two years ago I was at my lowest point with my depression. I was really frustrated with my job. I was not being paid well, didn’t enjoy what I was doing, and was working remotely which limited my ability to socialize and meet people. It was exhausting for me to find a better-paying job. I applied to over a hundred jobs. I kept gaining weight and did not know why or how to stop it. For a long time I didn’t have the best health insurance so I wasn’t getting the best care. Despite being able to get out of bed every morning, I felt hollow inside, and super unmotivated. I wasn’t suicidal but I was starting to understand how people get to that point. This scared me and I realized that going to therapy wasn’t enough and that I needed to be put on medication. My mom and I were both weary about me getting on medication due to the stigma and the chance of me gaining more weight but we both know that I had hit my bottom and I was definitely not okay.
Despite being able to get out of bed every morning, I felt hollow inside, and super unmotivated. I wasn’t suicidal but I was starting to understand how people get to that point.
Fortunately, things have gotten better for me within the last year. Therapy has really helped me get through the breakup, unpack childhood trauma, and gain more confidence. I no longer live in denial about my mental health and don’t have any shame in saying I have depression and anxiety and that I am on medication for it. My mom and I both talk more openly about mental health which has greatly helped me. I started at a job that pays decent and has made it possible for me to get out of the house more, socialize, meet friends, and save money. I decided to take more risks like planning to go on a trip to Italy with a group of strangers. I started taking journalism classes through NYU and learned that I enjoy interviewing and writing about topics that relate to people. I made this website to showcase my work and am planning on posting more pieces. I know now that I am actually a good writer and that my stories are important. I know that my writing has helped people. I now have better doctors and healthcare than I did before. I know that I can be a strong support system for my mom. I got to see my favorite band The Lumineers in concert and was finally able to get a Lumineers-inspired tattoo. I am finally getting over my driving anxiety after years of being scared to drive and am now planning on getting a car. I have gotten more comfortable with myself and enjoy spending time alone. I have tried to minimize contact with toxic people. I hung up my Master’s degree in my room so I could see it whenever I go to sleep and wake up as a reminder that I have accomplished something. I am so proud that I am still going and have hope after all the crap I have been through. I am determined not to settle for less than I deserve.
Even so, with all these good things happening I still battle with my anxiety and depression. On a daily, I am at least a little bit anxious. This has manifested in ways of clenching my jaw without realizing including in my sleep and easily becoming nauseous. My hands constantly shake. I cannot drink coffee or high amounts of caffeine in general because it just makes me anxious. I have a lot of anxiety about making sure I am not getting in trouble or doing the wrong thing at work. I worry about how I come off to others and hope I am presenting myself in the best way. I always try to work my hardest at everything I do. Since my depression hasn’t hit me this strong in a while, these last few months have really affected me. Prior to this current episode, I felt like my medicated self was winning the battle that was and is always brewing in my mind. Unfortunately in these last few months, my depression has been fighting back. I want to mention here that I acknowledge the privilege of not having depression so intense that I can’t get out of bed, take care of my personal hygiene, or complete daily obligations. Therefore as someone who considers themselves “high functioning,” my depression has caused me to feel unmotivated, lazy, sad, exhausted, and hopeless. I have also lost interest in doing things I enjoy like writing. It is difficult for me to put myself on a schedule outside of school since there aren’t any consequences besides letting myself down. It is challenging for me to start something, especially writing. I did not procrastinate in school but now procrastinate outside of it. Everything feels like so much work or effort and nothing sounds appealing to me. I struggle more at night because I don’t know what to do with myself. I get into this toxic cycle where my depression is telling me not to do anything and that there is no point but my anxiety is telling me because I didn’t do anything it is time to panic and feel bad about myself. Whenever I tell myself okay I am going to write today or going to fix my terrible sleep schedule my inner voice is telling me “Ha no you won’t.” It is difficult for me to let myself be emotional because I think not being emotional helps me get over the feelings faster which isn’t true. Recently at times, I have found myself repeating my old pattern of making myself feel bad because I didn’t want to be happy because I didn’t think I deserved to. I believe this stems from my dad making me feel like I wasn’t enough because if I was then maybe he would have cared more. And so when I get back to that place of doing that to myself it makes me upset because I have come a long way and know truly that I deserve to be happy and to enjoy life. All of these feelings are so frustrating when I do have people who are supportive like my mom, my brother, friends, and my therapist and so it almost feels silly to want validation from the one person that can’t give what I want from them. On the other hand, I try to give myself grace for feeling this way rather than beating myself up for it because it is normal to want your parent to validate, support, and truly know you.
Recently at times, I have found myself repeating my old pattern of making myself feel bad because I didn’t want to be happy because I didn’t think I deserved to. I believe this stems from my dad making me feel like I wasn’t enough because if I was then maybe he would have cared more.
One terrible thing about depression in particular is how it is hard to see that these bad feelings won’t last. I was late to the game and recently watched the HBO show Euphoria. There is a quote from the show that has resonated with me. When Rue played by Zendaya is going through a depressive episode she says this
The other thing about depression is it kind of collapses time. Suddenly, you find your whole days blending together to create one endless and suffocating loop. So you find yourself trying to remember the things that made you happy. But slowly your brain begins to erase every memory that ever brought you joy. And eventually, all you can think about is how life has always been this way. And will only continue to be this way.”
Rue in the T.V show Euphoria
This quote stuck with me because when I start feeling depressed and hear the voice in my head telling me it won’t get better, I can’t see how things have gotten better. When I feel down it is like I have blinders on. It is tough for me to see the progress I made and to acknowledge my accomplishments like getting my Master’s degree. I don’t see that I am becoming a more independent and stronger person. I don’t see that at least I have a job I don’t hate. All I do see is that I am not working in the field I want to be in, that I still don’t even know what that field is, that I don’t have a car, that I don’t have a ton of friends, and that I don’t really go anywhere or do anything besides work and be at home. I start to believe the lie, that I am not getting anywhere in life. My depressive episodes strip me of my confidence, my progress, and my self-worth, and instead fill me with pain, frustration, and hopelessness.
I start to believe the lie, that I am not getting anywhere in life.
One thing I learned recently, I even talked about it in another post on this blog, is that we are never fully healed. I think part of the reason why my depression and anxiety have become draining again apart from the sickness and the hormones is because I just want to be cured. I wish I didn’t have to feel depressed or anxious. I wish that this war in my mind would cease. I wish that medication and therapy could fix everything. When it doesn’t fix everything I feel like a failure when in reality me thinking this way is setting myself up to fail. Yes, going to therapy and taking medication does help and does make things easier but they aren’t magic cures because there is always going to be something like sickness, hormones, or something traumatic happening in this fucked up world that we live in that makes me feel sad or hopeless. Especially when you think about the direction that this country is headed (I want to discuss this more in a separate post). However, like my mom always tells me, we don’t have to dwell on these feelings. Anxiety and depression are liars. They tell us that we aren’t enough, that we need to be doing more, and that we will never be happy. But we need to remind ourselves that we have all experienced joy at least at one point in our lives. I have to remind myself that I have been happy. I have to remind myself that I was happy at the Lumineers concert, happy spending time with my mom, and happy when I find a cool thrift find. Sometimes I have to make myself do something like read, write, do laundry, and clean my room even when I don’t want to because once I accomplish or do something I feel better about myself. Yes, I won’t be fixed or magically cured but that doesn’t mean I have to treat myself like I am broken. I don’t need to be at a certain level in my career or personal growth to know that I am enough. I need to keep reminding myself that I am enough at every moment especially when I am experiencing negative thoughts. I try to view my anxiety and depression as a weird way of me caring more. I may overthink and wonder what I did or said wrong and repeat conversations in my head but at least I care about my personal growth and how I affect other people.
I wish I didn’t have to feel depressed or anxious. I wish that this war in my mind would cease. I wish that medication and therapy could fix everything.
I want to acknowledge my privilege here again. I know going to therapy and getting on medication isn’t an option for everyone. My heart reaches out to those who don’t have access to the help they need or a support system. I know I am lucky enough to be able to fulfill my daily tasks without crippling anxiety and depression making it impossible. My purpose in writing this isn’t to get pity or give a happy ending about my depression and anxiety going away (it definitely hasn’t). I wrote this because I want to help people feel less alone. You might not be okay right now you might be struggling like me and that is okay. We don’t have to be okay all the time and it is time I accept that. I think it is taboo to write something like this and not be like well that sucked but I am all good now! I think our stories can be inspirational without having to be about overcoming something challenging and it being in the past. I think vulnerability and opening up and saying hey life hasn’t been all good right now is something a lot of us can relate to. But to not end this in a cynical and pessimistic way, I still find hope and see that it will get better and even though it won’t always be rainbows and butterflies we can find meaning and beauty in life and I hope all of you can see that and know that too. I hope all of you can remind yourself of the progress you made, of the strength you have, and be okay with always being a work in progress never being finished. At the time of writing this I can say that though there are still clouds in my sky, the sun is peaking through, reminding me that the darkness is for now going away.