Avoidance. I’ve come up with so many excuses not to write these blogs about mental health. I’ve pressed snooze on my alarm clock on days I was supposed to write. I blamed my period. Told myself I needed a mental break, and then convinced myself that no one cared anyway. I’m sorry. I had promised Facebook followers in the month of February every Monday I’d write about an aspect of my mental health journey or someone else brave enough to share. I even found one brave soul who is still waiting to share her story. I have to ask myself, “Why have I been pushing off this blog?”
Sometimes I don’t want to be the depressed, anxiety attack prone girl. In 2016, I became a real bold mental health advocate. I spoke publicly at huge venues about suicide, depression, and anxiety. Yet, I won’t lie there are many days I wish depression, anxiety, and suicide never knew my name. Depression and suicide are the main reasons I had to walk away from television news career and I’m afraid it’s the reason I can’t get back in. I am mad at it, and sometimes even madder that an anti-depressant is not an instant fix. It’s not a 21-day pill regimen or something I take until symptoms improve. I will ALWAYS have to take that little orange pill to keep the darkness away. ALWAYS. There are so many days I feel weak, damaged, and abnormal because I have severe depression. A condition of the mind no one can see or sometimes even understand.
I was first prescribed an anti-depressant when I was sixteen, a little blue pill called Buspar. When I was on it, I was extra alert, calm, and focused. I wasn’t as forgetful, and the intense pain I felt in my chest when I was anxious didn’t come as much. A gentle, kind Navy doctor explained ….continue reading here