I was a typical teen. Rebelling in my ways against my parents. They held strong with their structure around me, lovingly gave out punishments, and made sure I didn't just know that they were there, I felt and saw it too. We talked a lot. We argued. We laughed. Yet, I retreated into myself. I felt that know one would every understand the thoughts that I had, the feelings of craziness that I felt, and the self-created, mental prison where I lived.
I don't know what made it happen, but I remember the sadness coming in and setting up house. There are so many reasons why one can become depressed, including chemical imbalances. I was too full of pride to listen to my parents and talk about what I was feeling. I was too full of pride to decide to ask for help. God was a distant figure. I left Him behind when we left our last church. I prayed still with my family, but with an exception to a couple of prayers, my prayers were empty.
With my depression, came my anxiety. I began to let depression and anxiety define me. I let the anxiety take over to make everything "just right". If my things were moved, or changed, I would have a fit. I was the sad girl who would write poetry about being sad and angry. I didn't really fit in anywhere at school. I wasn't into partying; I didn't like going out and doing lots of things. I was far from popular. I had people I called friends. I also had this inability to be able to tell if their feelings for me were the same. I always felt that my friends were on the verge of being mad at me, calling off the whole friendship, or thinking that my friends never liked me at all. I retreated farther into myself.
I let my depression take over so many things, my love of reading, my joy of being outside in nature, my relationships with my family. My parents fought hard for me. They never gave up, never showed a difference in their love for me.
How I dealt with my depression changed when my younger sister and brother were born. I wanted them to have the love that I had from my uncle (he passed away when I was almost 5). For them, the world would be full of love, adoration, and of people of whom they could trust. I always wanted to be there for them. I wanted to be a good role model for them. I started to fake my way through life better, hiding all of my feelings. However, I wasn't as good with faking it as I thought. In my mind, no one knew I was sad.
When I was in college, my facade crack. Through some friends, I realized that I needed help with dealing with my depression and growing anxiety. I was starting to have major anxiety attacks. Luckily, my campus had a free counseling center and I learned that it was okay to say no to others and yes to me. I learned to take time for myself and I learned some great coping strategies.
I dealt with the symptoms and starting to become me again. I started to become loving again. I was less angry. There were still ups and downs, but I started to "get on track" to my life goals.
When I moved to North Carolina, to fulfill one of my dreams as a special education teacher, many of those feelings, fears, and depression came rushing back. It wasn't the job. I was just alone. I had no friends. I just went to work and came home to my empty (literally and figuratively) apartment.
That year was a trying year for sure. My mom was diagnosed with a brain tumor. Thankfully it was not cancerous but the hardships that she and my family went through were a lot. I went back to counseling to deal with my feelings and learn how to cope through this situation. It didn't help like it had in the past. I would leave the sessions feeling empty and hopeless.
That school year, I was lucky to be supported by a teaching assistant, substitute/school parent, and instructional coach. These women showed me compassion, friendship, gave support, and lots of prayers. Through the school parent and teaching assistant, I found a church. It was very different than the Protestant and nondenominational churches I attended in my youth. Here I learned that God did love me. God adored me. God forgave me. It was at that church that I came back home to Him. It was at that church that I was baptized. To them, I will always be thankful.
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