I imagine that many of my posts aren't exactly uplifters. I have lots of days that, in my book for where I am at, are good ones...but one thing I never anticipated was that, in the year or so that followed my mental breakdown, I would experience some of the worst days, weeks, months of my life. I want to preface this all by iterating how thankful I am to have a strong core family, recently reestablished connections with other dear family members and rekindled ties with some acquaintances/friends from my past, as well as some new friendships that emerged. I am lucky for that.

Maybe it's not being in my 20s anymore or the enormity of realizing what my breakdown kept me from doing for that year, but it's dawned on me, the grief process and how it really works. I feel that I have been fortunate in not having lost an immediate family member or a best friend, but I have lost folks steadily over the course of a long period of time and I never really stopped to consider it aside from initial sadness and the societal show of "moving on" and "being strong." Students I used to work with, parents of dear friends present and past, friends of my own, two really lovely grandparents, and most recently, my dear aunt, have all left, most of them too soon. I think her passing has certainly taught me that, not only for myself, but for others, that grief is certainly not a linear experience and is unique to each person. I also note that it feels very much like actual ocean waves....sometimes, the waters are calm and other times, I feel like I can't breathe.

I still haven't figured out yet why this happens, the losses...the ones that don't seem to make sense. No death is happy, but I wonder why people die before old age hits and why freak accidents happen. I do believe in God, very much, but am not sure as to why s/he takes people away from us on Earth at random. Through this whole thing, I have learned how to be a more compassionate person, i.e. people that lose something/someone can't just get over it and the pace at which that happens is not to be determined by the outside world. I also know the deep feeling of regret, of not having spent more time with folks before the left, not having had the chance to say goodbye. Even in the ending of relationships, it is a death of sorts because you rarely know that the last time you talk with someone is actually the very last and final time. I think not taking those little moments with people for granted is important. Heart feels a little heavy tonight with it having been over a year since my Aunt Roe died so excuse my ramblings....so excuse my rambling. But take care of each other and yourselves. Time does help, but it never really ever stops hurting. Be compassionate.

Depression difficulty

Some of you may see the title for this and think, gee, if she talks about her fucking mental health issues one more time, I am going to flip my crap. I get you. Believe me. It may hurt for the people around me to hear about it, but I will bet you good money that for me, and anyone else who suffers from anxiety and depression,  it is also no picnic. I want to share candidly with folks what I deal with in a more comprehensive manner, perhaps go beyond the standard "this is difficult" and "I feel depressed."

But while we're there, let's begin with that. The depressed part. Many people say every day that they feel depressed because of general unpleasantries; think financial issues, catching a cold, feeling overworked, not having a date this past Saturday, etc. And in no way do I diminish any of the feeling that folks feel when going through that. But depression is markedly different. Feelings about a finite circumstance, while certainly notable and hard to handle at times, are just that: finite. Anyone dealing with situational sadness know that there will be a change at some point and can actually see it happening. The next paycheck will be big and help pay some of the bills. A Tinder match finally came through that appears to be a good one. Yoy get the picture.

Depression, and I cannot express this enough, is very, very different. It is an ongoing illness. It is not something a sufferer can cure but must learn how to control in order to overcome. And doing that is like trying to engage in a spinning class while in quicksand and crying. It is my natural leaning to see things with a depressive lens and to expect that, at any moment, the rug will be pulled from under me (props to anxiety and panic disorder, my clinical diagnoses, for that).  Depressed persons also deal with a litany of other issues, many that well-intentioned friends and family try to help with, but often exacerbate. Thus far, numerous things have been suggested. Some are good ideas and have either proven helpful already or will likely help if I can manage to get out of the mental quicksand and try. Think medications (you can keep your feelings to yourself if you don't believe in it, millions of other folks' lives have been saved due to a healthy regimen, myself included), therapy (it's hard to find a good fit and I think I still struggle with this one, as I often need to change it up as I go through different life seasons), acupuncture (hey, if it worked for my little doggie, I am a believer), and exposure therapy. That's a big one and one I hang my hat on proudly. Over the past year or so, I went to a wedding, suffered through a major loss, moved to another town (the first I have never had any emotional attachment to), started going out in public again (and as of 2015, started going alone), became comfortable with my much-missed road trips and started to eat healthier. I even found out, through lots of self-advocacy, that a major vitamin deficiency contributed to my depressive state, and completed a vitamin regimen to help boost that back to where it should be.

I have also received lots of suggestions that I don't doubt were well-meaning, but are not for me. I had at least two people ask me if I found God. I've actually had God for many years and my relationship with Him/Her is a private and steadfast, yet questioning one. I don't buy into the blind faith of my baptized religion, Roman Catholicism and will not in my lifetime. Rehab has also been addressed. And that one is funny. Because it is not financially feasible, regardless of the state I am in. But it's a frustrating suggestion. I work full-time, tend to my family the best I can, have a good therapeutic and medical support system in place that I adhere to...I basically receive all of the things I would in an inpatient setting, but get to live and work like a normal person. Because I am a normal person. People often forget that. Many say that they don't carry stigmas when it comes to the mentally ill. But it's out there, even if laws are in place to prevent discrimination. I am here to tell you, though, that in spite of all my mental health crap, I know I am a viable,