Isn't that just great, I post a journal 2 months ago about being a flake and not talking about anything really since my move. I know, I'm the worst.
But honestly all those journal topics I threw around, I would love to post about, but every time I think about writing a journal I can't actually bring myself to do it because there's been something else pretty big that has been consuming a big part of my thinking space (hell, just getting up the motivation to actually type this journal took a while, but I knew it was something I needed to share).
Just as a warning, this is going to get a little serious. Brace yourselves.
Though in the past I typically write journals and share just about anything I have on my mind, there has always been one major topic in my life that I have never really felt comfortable putting into words. I have talked around it before and I can talk about it to people face-to-face, but something about actually typing it out makes it seem disingenuous or attention-seeking or any of the other numerous adjectives that just get jumbled up in my brain.
And honestly, I'm still not going to talk about all of it, like the more serious implications or experiences I've dealt with, because who actually wants to hear that shit. Instead I will just talk about what I've been up to recently.
For a really long time I have dealt with issues. I can remember instances at least back to middle school but they were probably present even back in elementary school. It didn't get really bad, or at least bad enough for me to recognize something was wrong until high school and college, though it manifested in different ways over the years. I didn't want to call it any type of mental health issue because of the social stigma that I've internalized (among many other social stigmas that effect me every day). I saw it as a weakness and being broken and something that you fake a smile so people don't know things are wrong.
I saw therapists off and on, mostly seeking help when things got really bad. Other than that I worked to take care of myself on a day-to-day basis, but I always told myself that when I was in a position where I could go to therapy regularly, it would probably be good.
And now I find myself in a position that I can.
I have been going to see a therapist weekly (it started every other week, but then a few emotional breakthroughs happened and it became evident it should be a weekly thing) in order to deal with my depression and anxiety, which I definitely have and am not afraid or embarrassed to admit (well, I am, but I'm trying to ignore those feelings because I know they are just built up in my head)
And it's been tough, but it's been good.
I've learned that the daily mindset I have always lived in is not normal and not okay.
I've learned that not having the motivation to even leave my bed for an entire weekend is not nothing.
I've learned that this actually runs deeper than I think I always knew but never wanted to admit.
I'm now on medication to help.
I've stopped drinking.
I'm slowly getting better.
It's going to be a long road, but I'm glad I'm on it.
And now one last thing, why I decided to share this with all of you. I know that there are major parts of this story that are missing, and maybe one day I will be able to share, and I know that might seem odd or unfair or whatever. In the past, whenever I have opened myself up, the RT community has always accepted me with open arms and continued to love and support me (which frankly, I have trouble fathoming) and so not saying anything felt like the wrong thing to do.
So here I am, bearing my soul once again to the community I love, admitting that I have problems but I am getting help and working hard to get better.
Soon I hope to actually be able to talk about the many other things I'd like to share (like the fact that I now have a kitten), but until then: [here is where I tried desperately to think of something witty and cute to sign off with, but came up with nothing]
tl;dr: I have depression and anxiety, but I'm getting help and getting better. Also, I have a kitten.