I want to take a break from drudging up my trauma for a little while, so I want to share what lead me to therapy. I've been depressed many times in my life, and I have always had anxiety. I wasn't diagnosed with ADHD until I was 31, and my TikTok algorithm thinks I'm autistic. I was diagnosed with MDD at 17 by a psychiatrist and then again (did they not believe it?) at 28. I have always been interested in learning about psychology, but never actually did. It wasn't until the last few years that I really started investing time into my mental health. I'm so glad I did.
The first time I remember feeling like I was from another planet or timeline, I was 10. I was in my room thinking about why I was being punished so harshly for something so small. I felt like my brothers had it easy compared to me (they didn't), and I was being targeted for some unknown reason. Was it because I was a girl? Because I am inquisitive? Because I am a show-off? These are the biggest complaints I've heard, so I guess I don't fit in with this family. I talk too much, and I'm attention seeking. This family preaches that "Children are to be seen and not heard," and, "No one likes a tattle tale," and, "If you're not bleeding to death, don't bother me." I was definitely not feeling accepted. I felt totally isolated, even though we had 6 people living in our home.
I felt alone most of the time. Especially at home. I did have friends at school and church, but they didn't know what my everyday life looked like. I spend a lot of time with my cousin on the weekends just to get away from home. She was about my age, so everyone assumed we were close. I never really enjoyed spending time with her, but she loved me. It felt so nice to have someone who wanted me around. Someone who got excited to see me. I started feeling like it didn't matter where I was or who I was with, I was never going to feel 100% like I belonged there.
In middle school and high school I spent as much time out of the house as I possibly could (this was difficult because I was grounded for what felt like all of my adolescence). We moved to a trailer park in a new city, and I made friends with everyone I could. I didn't want to ever feel alone. If I made friends with every single kid in the park, it would be very unlikely that I would ever have to play alone.
I started taking antidepressants and hypnotic medications when I was 17 during a stay to the psychiatric hospital. I don't personally think I needed to be there, but it happened, and it is what it is. After I was released I started having suicidal ideations that I wasn't able to push down anymore. I didn't realize that I had them before until I was in group therapy, and a girl shared that she didn't want to take her own life, but that she didn't want to live anymore. I felt that deeply. Most of my life I wanted to not exist. I never thought of it like death, but ceasing to exist. I self harmed a handful of times before anyone noticed. I made sure it was in a spot that not many people would ever see. I was in a very dark place, and I had no confidence or self worth. I let my boyfriend abuse me many times, and I ended up getting pregnant.
My doctors urged me to continue to take anti-depressants during my pregnancy (I had been on them about a year), but I didn't want any chance of hurting my baby, so I stopped "cold turkey." I sought alternate methods of fighting depression. I journaled, meditated, took long walks, breathing exercises. Then after I had my son, I tried listening to heavy metal full blast while headbanging, drinking, staying up all night reading internet articles, talking to strangers, and binge eating. Of course, that was because I was no longer around any kind of support system, and the person closest to me abused me and made me feel like I was unlovable. I was lucky that I wasn't alone; he saved me from being alone.
I was finally able to walk away from my son's father when he was about 15 months old. In the next year I moved in with my mom, then another boyfriend, then out of state with my dad's family I barely knew, back home with my mom, and then... OUT. I did all of that pretty much feeling alone the entire time. I knew that if I needed something, I was going to do it, get it, or make it. I had to pick up my life in pieces and put it back together the way I wanted it to be. I had to make myself keep moving forward for me and for my son, and so I did. In 2012 I met the love of my life, and we have spent the last 13 years (and counting) learning, growing, and appreciating each other. I wasn't depressed for years; I wasn't alone anymore. Sure, life had stressors, but they didn't effect me much. I could handle it with my person, not alone.
During COVID, it all came back. Heavier than I ever felt it before. I had no energy, no desire, no motivation. I would spend days in bed only getting up to use that bathroom, only when it felt like an emergency. I didn't shower, brush my teeth, comb my hair. I didn't even turn the TV on. I wouldn't look at my phone or computer. I literally stayed in bed and either slept or stared at the wall/ceiling all day. My husband didn't know how to help me. He was frustrated that I was acting like this, and thought it was some sort of act. He didn't have the tools or wisdom to help me yet. That made me feel worse about it, but it didn't change any of my actions. I stayed staring. I made an appointment and started medication again. It helped for a little while, but it was way too expensive for me to take long term.
Eventually, in the summer of 2023, I reached out to a counselor. I was very thorough in my search. I wanted to make sure I was going to see someone who encouraged me, but wasn't too soft. Someone who can look past my initial appearance and actually believe what I have to say. Someone who would challenge me to work on myself and push me to be better. My counselor does an excellent job, and it's made a world of difference in my life. I can see the patterns that created who I am, the role trauma plays into my problem solving skills, and how I became codependent. I have worked through so much trauma I didn't even know I was holding me down. Dissecting and discussing each event and looking at in from another perspective showed me that I didn't have to hold on to it anymore; I could let go. It happened, but it's not happening now. I'm not alone anymore.
I am not alone, and I don't have to hold on to anything that doesn't bring me happiness or comfort. I don't have to exist around people who don't want me there. I don't have to do things that make me uncomfortable. I don't have to feel obligated to anyone. The hardest thing for me to understand was that I should not be putting more effort into someone else who is not putting the same effort back into me (for me this was giving emotional and financial support, time sacrifices while receiving shit-talking, entitlement, and guilt trips). Who will fill my bowl when I give you everything I have? The only answer is me. Something I knew a long time ago, but in this context, it all of a sudden clicked. I was neglecting myself by pouring all of my energy into others.
My advice to anyone who feels like the world is too much sometimes- the world IS too much for you. You don't have to carry the weight of the world by yourself. You don't even have to carry your own weight all the time. There are people around you who should be pouring back into you, the way you do for them. And if the people who surround you don't do this, you are not among the right people. Find others who believe what you believe and love you for you. Surround yourself with people who want to see you succeed, but understand that you can't do everything on your own. Remove the dead weight that is holding you down, those who make you feel bad for being, who take more than they ever gave, and who can't see that your effort toward their happiness is draining you of any self recognition. And find those who are like you. I promise you won't experience anything more comforting than a room full of people who want to be the reason you smiled today. You are not alone, but it can feel that way when you have nothing left to give yourself.
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