Just by glancing at this photo you would never know that I had depression. From the outside my life seemed happy - I had a great job teaching art, recently moved in with my boyfriend, and had a great support system of family and friends.
But what I didn't choose to show the world - or even most of the people around me - was all the hurt I was feeling. I spent countless prep periods crying in the back of my classroom so no one would see me if they peeked through the door. I would come home at 4PM and immediately go to bed, forcing my boyfriend to wake me up and remind me to eat. I stopped taking time to check in with my family and friends, afraid they might know that something was not right. On the weekends I wouldn't get out of bed until 11AM. After that I spent most of my time on the couch at home. The photo above is from a rare time that Mike was able to get me out of the house.
Eventually Mike, my now husband, advised me to go back to therapy. I had been seeing a therapist earlier that year for things I had suffered through while my ex and I were together. I felt great after three months of twice weekly sessions, so I stopped going. But I knew that this was different. I had lost the spark I had regained after my break-up. I felt lonely, sad, and unsure of how to go on in life. I never fully contemplated suicide, but I had imagined how I could possibly end all the sadness I felt.
It was incredibly difficult to drive myself to therapy that first day. I spent my time in the car wondering how I could possibly explain what I was feeling. I was sad for seemingly no reason at all. Like I said, I had a good life. I explained all this to my therapist and she told I had depression. She gave me a notebook page filled with ideas of how to combat exactly what I was feeling. She also gave me a prescription for Prozac.
I also started writing. I wrote all the feelings I had - dark, sad, happy, angry - down in a notebook. I would bring them in to therapy with me so we could access exactly what was going on. Turns out I had been holding onto a lot of anger from my last relationship. I won't delve into details here, but there was a strong element of emotional abuse throughout the entire relationship. For most of the six years we were together I had no self-confidence. We fought all the time - mostly because egging him on was the only way I got an emotional response for any of my feelings.
On top of this I was in a career that I lacked passion for. I always imagined I would go to college and have a long career in the field that I graduated for. So when I landed a job teaching art almost immediately after graduating, I was thrilled. Three months in I found myself hating what I was doing.
So after uncovering the reasons behind what I was feeling, I started to dive into how to fix it. First, I started writing more. I admit the poems I wrote definitely weren't happy, but they helped me get my feelings out in a healthy manner. Then I started exercising again. It was hard to get myself out of bed, or to avoid the temptation of going to bed immediately after work. For the first two weeks I hated the time I spent at the gym. Then the energy surges began to kick in. I would feel rejuvenated after cardio. I started to feel strong again after I lifted weights.
Lastly, I quit my job. At first this definitely did not seem like it would help. I was terrified of jumping into a new career. My family and friends were also terrified for me - rightfully so.
Slowly the depression faded away. I stayed on Prozac for four months before I weened myself off. I was scared that depression would come back off the medications, so I started working out more. Prozac had also made me gain 25 pounds, which only added to body image problems I was having with the depression.
What I found after the medication wore off is that I knew exactly what I had to do to keep my depression at bay. Some days this means working out at the gym for 2 hours, other days this means allowing myself to sleep in and be lazy. Sometimes I need to go out with my friends and other times I'd much rather be alone at home. I found it easier to talk about my feelings instead of hiding them. I made sure to put self-care on the top of my to-do list every day.
Mental illness looks different for everyone. Even the happiest of people we know could be suffering from things they aren't ready to explain to us. Sometimes we get caught up in our own lives and forget how to be kind to one another. We judge others by their decisions instead of respecting their happiness. I think its important to remember to speak kindly to others and to remember that they only show us what they want us to see.
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