Coming Out...With Mental Health

July is minority Mental Health Awareness month. I did not know that, so before the month closes, I want to come out with my mental health journey.

Many of my friends and family often make the remark that I tend to seem very level-headed and put together. My response is usually, ”If you only knew how my mind really operates…”

I was diagnosed with anxiety disorder and depression and have been (knowingly) living with it for about 5-6 years.

Even now, I can probably count on one hand the number of people who know that I have anxiety and also take medication for it. Opening yourself up to talking about it, in my mind, automatically meant that people were going to start asking a bunch of invasive follow-up questions. To me, having a diagnosed condition meant that there was some sort of deficit within me. I seriously realized that I needed a mental check-up while in undergrad. I was all about performing well in-school and achieving my goals, so when I fell short of those goals my state of mind was not strong enough to always handle those situations well. Sometimes I also felt that I was floating outside of my body watching my life pass me by like I with my head sometimes slipping underwater.

The difference in my life between the period before j was diagnosed and afterward is noticeable. It's not perfectly rectified, but I've made some changes and had some inner conversations that have helped me to be more mindful and cope a little better. I am fully aware of the fact that this is something I will have to deal with for the rest of my life, but the fact of knowing that only makes me want to educate and prepare myself as best I can.

And sure, in college, they tell you about the Freshman 15, but mine turned out to be the Freshmen 30. And nothing prepared me for sophomore year, when I realized I wasn't as disciplined a student as I originally thought and I had to relearn how to study. Or, my senior year, when I was supposed to graduate, but didn't. Now that I can say, definitely sent me into a state of depression for the rest of that semester where I was not leaving my room for days, laying in bed, and only leaving really to take a shower or occasionally go out to grab groceries. I felt: worthless, unimportant, STUPID. I was so embarrassed to go home for the summer and when I did, I avoided people for weeks.

When I go through periods like that, I withdraw. I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to pick up the phone or write a message to someone I trusted, but something always held me back. I would tell myself, ”The don't feel like hearing my problems, ” or ”they won't think it's real.”

I couldn't bring myself to talk in depth about what I was going through to my family. We're very big and religious - mental health is not something that's really talked about or indulged. Plus, I didn't want to be the black sheep lesbian with the added label of being ”crazy”.

When I was dating, I wasn't understood.

Now, I am not at all opposed to the idea of therapy. I was fine with locating a therapist and came to look forward to our meetings where I could unload all of my baggage. Because of moving around, I went through a couple of therapists, but the value in finding one you feel completely comfortable with is incomparable. I wasn't surprised when I was first diagnosed with anxiety and depression, because I know the signs from my educational and professional training. I knew more or less that something was off when certain situations would happen, but I would write it off as being overly stressed about a school assignment, romantic troubles, or day-to-day life disappointments.

But I got to a point where I was sleeping less than usual because it seemed my mind was in overdrive, and I spent the majority of my days with my teeth, hands, and jaw clenched. It really hit home when I lost my ability to multitask. To some of you, that may seem unimportant. For me, To-Do lists were my life, but I stopped being able to mentally focus on more than one thing at a time andI couldn't understand why. Finally, my therapist suggested that maybe I should try going on medication. To make the situation even better, she told me that she was not a strong proponent of medication, but felt that it would really help! Hearing her say that, helped out things in perspective for me, that maybe if I tried the meds, I could at least get to a better point emotionally and then mentally begin the work of reframing my mind.

That conversation when I had to sit in the doctor’s office and listen to her talk with my wife about the missed wires, or chemical imbalance in my brain that were affecting my ability to function...I felt like I was sitting outside of my body or like an animal on display. Before I went to that appointment, my wife and I had a discussion about what going on medication would mean. She and I differ in our opinions on mental health and medication, so she was not immediately on board for me just taking pills.

It has now been about a year and a half since starting meds. The first couple months of me sitting around waiting for them to kick in, I felt so unproductive. I definitely feel a difference when I'm not taking them and I feel that the situations that once sent me in a tailspin or caused a breakdown no longer had that effect. I’m not saying that being on medication has been a 100% cure. Things are just more tolerable. However, me personally, I’d like to keep looking into holistic methods, because I’d prefer not to be on prescribed medication. So that means learning as many coping skills as I can, changing my diet, exercise...

Why am I tossing my hat into the ring? Because like I said, people don't look at me and think I live with mental health. People get more accustomed to the happy, cheery, peppy version of me that they do not know how to interact with me when I'm not that. It gets exhausting having to live behind a mask, feeling like you have to tuck your feelings away so others don't feel awkward. I've grown tired of being asked, ”How are you?” by people that don't care to hear the answer, or aren't equipped for a productive heart-to-heart.

Maybe those that live with MH don't have the conversation because they know it can lead to more conversations and the likelihood of being vulnerable due to being exposed is not exactly the most motivating. On some days, I will be honest, I am not in my best mindset to have a conversation about my mental health struggles because I may still be struggling in that moment. But that is the reality of mental health, every day is not beautiful. We do not always look the same or wear our emotions on our sleeve. You just wake up, and get through another day the best way you know how.

#SayitOutLoud

*I cannot take credit for the photo