Folks, It's Time to Talk.
According to stats, The US is currently in the middle of a mental health crisis. Almost 50% of American adults will deal with a mental health diagnosis at some point in their lifetime. Of those, only 41% will seek and recieve treatment. Why? Because we're afraid of being judged by others. It's as simple as that. We don't want people to think we're crazy.
The problem with that is that nothing is going to get better if we don't deal with it. It's like not going to the doctor to treat an infection because you don't want people to think you're sick. So, it really is time to talk. It's time to normalize mental health issues. Fly the crazy flag with pride, I say! I'll go first...
My mental health went into rapid decline after a series of major losses in my life. Because I'm an educator, fairly well known in my town, and because I'm a mental health professional, I wanted to handle it myself, you know, keep it private. Guess what? Didn't work. In fact, things got worse. I wasn't OK. At one point, I wasn't having any OK days at all. I will clarify that I was not suicidal, but I reached a point where I did not want to live any more days like that. That was a frightening realization. In one life - changing moment, I finally said out loud to myself, "I don't want to live any more days like this, I don't want to live life this way." I knew in that moment that it was the end of my self-management. I wanted to be better. I wanted help.
I made an appointment to go to therapy. That was a terrifying call to make. Yes, people, calling to make an appointment at a mental health center was one of the scariest things I've ever done. Why? What if I call and the person on the other end of the phone knows me? What will they think of me? I don't want them to know this about me! Once that phone call was made, I thought, "holy cow that was easy, and it's done, and someone's going to help me!"
Here's my baggage:
Major Depressive Disorder
Generalized Anxiety Disorder
Persistent Complex Bereavement Disorder
Fun, eh?
I went to therapy for two years. Therapy is THE BEST THING EVER. I love therapy, and will be forever grateful for my therapist. I wanted to do this without meds. She totally respected that and insisted that I work really hard at recovery, which I did. It wasn't quite enough. Two years later, at the firm recommendation of my doctor, I started taking an anti-depressant. This medication quite literally saved my life. With the med, I was finally in a good enough headspace to be able to put all the pieces of the puzzle together. Everything I learned in therapy could be practiced and refined. I'm not a promotor of meds. You won't hear me telling someone to get on a medication. But folks, this med saved my life, as in, I have my life back. I have myself back. My husband has his wife back, my kids have their mom. I can relax, I have fun, I laugh, and I feel happiness and joy. I am grateful every single day for all of this.
It's time to change, and it's time to talk.
If you're not OK, reach out. Tell someone. Ask for support.
If you're concerned about someone else, reach out to them: Ask questions and listen. You don't need to offer solutions. Sit with someone in the quiet and allow them to be not OK in front of you, without judgement. If you don't have someone to reach out to, you do now. Contact me, and I'll be your person.
The biggest take away, for me, from the last (too many) years, is that the control I have over the people and events in my world is very limited. I can control my actions and reactions. That's it. Once I accepted this fact, I was more than happy to let go of the rest, and the letting go comes with a whole feeling of freedom.
You can't pour from an empty cup. Take care of you. 💖
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