National Mental health day

With each day being its own “National Day” it is hard to keep up.

Today is National Mental Health Day which hits close to home for sure.

I have done everything in my power to put off writing about this today.

But here I go.

Mental health was never something that was talked about in my family. I never knew what it meant until recently.

I have always assumed everyone felt the same way that I felt.

I thought everyone's internal voice was as debilitating as mine.

In my head I would always tell myself “there are so many others out there that have it worse than you do” which is true but does not negate the traumas I have endured and the anxiety and depression that came along with them.

I have recently started to share my traumas with the world and openly talk about my journey in life with anxiety and depression. It hasn’t been easy but not talking about it was even harder.

Pretending I had my life together and that everything was cupcakes and rainbows. It was f*cking exhausting.

It was no surprise that I thrived in the customer service setting as well as the bar industry. “OOOOO yes! Let me focus on helping you and listen to your problems just as long as it distracts me from focusing on my own sh*t”.

I had a roommate for 7 years. An alcoholic, I gravitated towards her and her issues ignoring my own. You see my biological father was an alcoholic so having her around felt familiar. I wanted to help her, I wanted to focus all of my attention on her issues rather than come face to face with my own. When our friendship ended a part of me felt lost. Like now what? Who will I “save” now? Which is so unfair and pretty f*cked up. I took pride in being a good friend but was I really? I can honestly say I was for the most part but I subconsciously needed to feel needed and when that feeling was gone I was left alone with myself. How terrifying but it was time I “saved” myself.

I have always loved helping others, but with my refusing to help myself was I really helping others or was I just buying me more time to ignore what was going on in my head? I still love to help others but now I can do so in a healthier way with a better mindset.

For me, being alone with myself can be very scary sometimes. My mind can take me to some pretty dark places but that is likely to happen when you have seen the darkness first hand.

The more I write, the more I share my story the kinder I am to myself.

There have been so many times I have dismissed my traumas and ignored them in hopes that they would go away on their own. That they would leave me to my existence and never bother me again. I have learned that isn’t the case.

I have always tried to be kind towards others and have definitely been known to put others' needs before my own. It has been a challenge to be kind to myself, to love myself unconditionally. To be patient with the fact that I have anxiety and depression is not always easy.

It is strange to think that not everyone knows what it feels like to have anxiety or depression. That some people go along in life and rarely ever feel anxious or depressed. What a wonderfully different existence than mine.

I am still at the beginning of my journey with bettering my mental health but I am excited for the road ahead.

I had never looked at my “timeline of traumas” before until my sister brought it up to me one day.

I had never thought anything of it. To me it is life, my life.

When I took the time to write out my timeline, I became emotionally overwhelmed.

That was a lot of life that I never processed, that I kept moving away from in order to survive.

In my early 20’s I would “get through life” with booze and drugs. I knew the drugs were becoming a problem when I climbed up to my friends balcony on the second floor to steal klonopins from her apartment when she was at work. When the post broke and I fell two stories down and only had a sprained wrist I took it as a sign that maybe I had an issue. Also when ecstasy dealers stop selling to you and your friends because they are worried about your health that kind of becomes an eye opener as well.

I used to chalk it up to “being young and dumb” but I know now that it was much more than that.

Alcohol though, people don’t really say sh*t when you’re getting black out drunk all the time to drown out your own thoughts. It is socially accepted to numb yourself with booze.

I didn’t know the effects alcohol could have on people with anxiety and depression. It wasn’t until the last couple years that I had even admitted to myself that I live with both anxiety and depression.

Within the last couple years I had slowly but surely been trying to cut back on my drinking. It was hard to do when my job was serving alcohol. It was even harder when the bar I worked at, the bartenders were allowed to drink.

And to deal with the inappropriate owner, drinking was a must.

The last year I worked there I had drastically cut back on my alcohol intake.

I worked 5 shifts a week there and only had shots on Friday and Saturday nights at the end of the shift. Which was a far cry from the 6-10 shots that had been the usual per shift amount.

Thinking about drinking that amount of alcohol while WORKING blows my mind.

I was doing what I knew how to do best, cope, numb, and distract.

Five months ago.

Five months ago I had my “last” alcoholic beverage. I shotgunned a beer on Memorial Day with two people I love dearly and that was that.

My relationship with alcohol has always been a negative one. It makes me so sick no matter how much I drink. My body would reject it almost immediately. And I for years ignored it.

I think of all of the nights that I would get drunk and end up hovering over the toilet puking the contents of my stomach out because the alcohol felt like it was poisoning me (because it was).

Years upon years I lived this cycle. I drank all the time which meant I got sick all the time.

I didn’t care about myself, I didn’t care about my body, I didn’t think I would make it to 30 years old so yeah it seemed easier to numb. Seeing a lot of people I was close to die before they made it to 30 for sure f*cked with my head.

Five months ago. I was fired.

I believe the universe removed me from that environment. It knew I was meant for much more than that place could ever offer me. It knew I deserved better before I did.

I look back at the past five months of my life and whooooo-weeee. This is as clear as my mind has ever been and that is terrifying but also so liberating. It feels surreal at times.

I am so blessed to have gotten this chance to show up for myself.

I have missed me. I have missed the Jessie that has been there all along but never gotten the chance to shine.

The Jessie who has been a champion and light in so many people’s lives but never in her own.

This is the most I have let myself feel in the longest time and even though it is challenging, I know in my soul that I am worth it.

I feel lost at times, trying to navigate through life. Not really feeling drawn to anything all while trying to find my “purpose” here on earth. Sometimes these thoughts become debilitating making it hard to find any motivation to do anything.

That's the anxiety, that's the depression, taking the reins like they love to do.

I have worked diligently to not allow them to take the reins for long and that took a lot of time and effort to get to where I am today.

My relationship with my mental health is just that, a relationship.

I no longer try to act like my anxiety and depression aren’t there, or that if I ignore them they will go away.

I don’t hide from them. I work everyday to try and understand them more. To search for where they dwell inside me. To make space for them because they are a part of me no matter how hard I try to deny them.

Learning to coexist with my anxiety and depression has made me more honest to myself and to others.

I can live my life becoming a more authentic human being and that is a wonderful gift.

I am thankful for all of those in my life that have rooted for me and who have supported me and loved me when I didn’t love myself.

On this National Mental Health Day I have to say how truly proud I am of myself.

I cried for the majority of the time writing this because as someone who has felt alone in my struggles in life I know how isolating that feels. It is a heartbreaking feeling, so dark, so lost.

My message for anyone who is struggling with their own mental health is that you are not alone and you are stronger than you give yourself credit for.

Choosing to continue living is an everyday choice for a lot of people who live with depression. Be proud of making that choice. Be proud of choosing you.

“Grief and pain are like joy and peace; they are not things we should try and snatch from each other. They’re sacred. They are part of each person’s journey. All we can do is offer relief in this fear: I am all alone. That’s the one fear you can alleviate.”-Glennon Doyle, Untamed.