Anxiety & Depression

Today's post is very fitting for how I'm feeling today, which is probably a good thing for the sake of the posts content. It's really hard to adequately describe the anxiety when I haven't had any for awhile.

(Shoes from Forever Young Shoes, pants and jewelry from Forever 21, and t-shirt from Bella Ella Boutique)

(Boots from Forever Young Shoes, skirt from Bohme, and t-shirt from Bella Ella Boutique)

I picked these two shirts as a semi-comical relief, but the truth is... I do have so many issues. And the only reason that I survive is my husband (hence the wifey shirt).

So first, I'll give you a little back ground: For one, genetics have a lot to do with my mental illness. My father is bi-polar and has severe depression. My mom has struggled off-and-on with depression, probably, her whole life and she also has had some problems with anxiety. My older sister has always had anxiety. I use to watch her have panic attacks and not really understand what was going on, and sometimes wonder if she was faking it. 

When I was in 9th grade, it was impossible for me to sleep at night. I would lay awake for hours just making myself sick. The nights I couldn't handle it, I would go get in bed with my mom (thank goodness for king sized beds). At the time, what my mom, me, and the doctors all focused on was the "sick" and not mentally sick. I was told that I was having severe acid re-flux. I got ultrasounds done, a berrium swallow (literally the worst procedure), and many other tests. They finally diagnosed me with "chronic nausea". What that really meant is that they had no idea what was wrong with me, but they were sick of trying different tests. My mom, being a bit smarter than the doctors, decided to try a therapist.

My therapists name was Jared. He was the nicest guy and I felt like I could open up to him. My 15 year old self was struggling with some very mixed up emotions. Puberty was hitting me pretty hard at this point, I had just found out that my dad had started doing heroin, I was (of course) having boy problems, and in the past couple months I had had to talk my dad out of suicide over the phone.

There's one thing that I haven't really talked about before, except with my close family and friends, but I've decided to open up about it a little bit in hopes that it could help someone else. If you choose to judge me for it, well, I guess that's your prerogative. When I was 13 I started self-harming. It started out as those stupid eraser burns that kids used to give each other and it slowly graduated into something more. To those who can't understand why anyone would do this, let me explain a little bit: As a 13 year old, I felt like I didn't have any control over my life, and I really didn't have much. On top of that, I had a lot of emotional pain and I quickly learned that physical pain A. Makes you forget about the emotional pain and B. Is easier to deal with than emotional pain. Also, they've done studies that have shown that cutting can be as addicting as heroin. So once you've gotten into it so far, it's almost impossible to get back out. I cut for 7 years. It was never constant but mostly I always was. I will be the first to admit that sometimes I did it for attention and sometimes I did it to get back at people. It was something that I had complete control over and I loved that. I haven't cut in about three years, but to this day I still struggle with the desire to do so.

My mom finding out about the self-harming is what sealed her desire for me to see a therapist. For awhile it did help and it really did help with my sleep. After my very first appointment I was able to sleep through the night no problem.

We're gonna fast forward to, about, two year ago. I wasn't self-harming anymore but depression still played a large factor in my life. It was about March 2014 when I started dealing with my biggest demon. Depression and anxiety are always put together, when in reality, they're nothing alike. When I'm depressed, I feel like I'm in a haze that I can't shake off. I want to lay in bed. I don't want to interact with anyone. I feel cold and alone. Anxiety though... It makes me feel like I'm on fire. All of my senses are going haywire. I can't think at all. Death always seemed like a welcome friend compared to what anxiety was doing to me. I'll never forget the first time my husband was with me for a panic attack. He handled it so well but you could tell he was scared and confused. 

Finally after trying to deal with it on my own, I decided to go talk to my doctor. I love my doctor, he's technically a PA but whatever. He asked me what I was dealing with, and together we decided to try an anti-depressant. The first medicine we tried was Citalopram (also known as Celexa). Celexa is an SSRI. Go read any cold medicine warnings. They'll all tell you to be careful taking them with an SSRI. SSRI's are made to help your brain produce serotonin. My brain does NOT like serotonin. The first time I took the medicine, not even a half hour later I was having a chemical induced panic attack. I told myself to keep trying it, to let my brain get used to it. They tell you that an anti-depressant can take up to six weeks to start operating well. For the week that I was on this medicine, I was essentially in a drug induced haze. If I wasn't using something to dull my senses, I would have severe panic attacks. The last straw was my heart being on fire. At night when I would try to go to sleep, it felt like someone was lighting my chest on fire. I called my doctor the next day, he told me to stop taking it and to come in and see him again.

Before I went to my next appointment, I did a little research. Quite a few of my family members had, in the past, taken an anti-depressant called Wellbutrin and it had worked quite well for them. I told my doctor this and then we decided to give it a try. We did a low dosage at first to see how it would react with me. Fortunately, it didn't induce panic attacks. Unfortunately, I didn't feel any different at all. After about two months of that, we went back to the doctor and upped my dosage. It wasn't something that happened overnight, but I slowly started noticing differences in myself. I was happier. I wasn't having as many panic attacks. It was helping me. I've now been taking this medicine for about a year and it's been pretty great. I wish I could tell you that it made all my problems go away, but it didn't. I still have anxiety (hardly any panic attacks though). I still have days where I feel like I'm stuck in my dark cloud. Today is one of those days. 

When I'm having these days I try to listen to happier music and exercising also helps. If you're struggling with dark feelings... You're not alone. There's always someone here to help. I'm willing to help. Life is hard and it's made even harder when you have a chemical imbalance. I remember days where I would think about how life was never going to get better for me. I felt like I was always going to be hiding the anxiety that was just under the surface. I didn't feel normal. I felt insane. Without my husbands help... I don't like to think about where I'd be right now. It does get better. If you're willing to work on it and find solutions, instead of dwelling on it... I promise that it'll get better. Just take it one day at a time. Don't think about years, months, or even weeks. Think about the moment you're in. Concentrating on that will help the suffocating feeling go away. 

If any of you have any questions or just need someone to talk to... Feel free to email me at yoursstrulyydanielle@yahoo.com and I will do my best to help you.

Life has so many amazing things waiting for all of us if we can just get through the hard moments.