Reaching out is hard.

Reaching out to people is hard for a lot of people to do. It's scary just to think of being that vulnerable with another person. It's scary to open up and let another person see raw emotions, especially when those raw emotions are pain and sadness or anything that's generally seen negatively. It's even harder to reach out when you're struggling with mental illness.

When suffering from anxiety and/or depression, I have no idea how many times I've typed out a text message when I needed someone around or needed someone to talk to only to end up never sending it.

Messages just like these.

I'd type them out and then I'd re-read them checking for spelling errors or autocorrect mistakes. Then that voice in the back of my mind would chime in.

"Why are you bothering them with your nonsense? They have enough going on without you adding more to it, you know."

"You know how stressed they are right now, why do you want to make it worse?"

"You know sitting there watching TV with someone won't fix anything so why pretend?"

"You know they have better things to do than come sit with you."

"You're just being dramatic."

"Why make them worry about you like that over nothing?"

"Do you really want them to see you like this?"

"Of course they're going to say they're not busy and can talk, they'd feel guilty otherwise."

"They have their own problems, what makes you think they have time to deal with yours, too?"

"What if they say no? Won't you just feel worse then? Why do that to yourself?"

"They're probably busy and don't have time to deal with you right now."

I could go on and on with 100 other ways I've talked myself out of reaching out to someone when I was struggling and needed help. That little voice was all too happy to always come up with a long list of reasons not to press send or to put the phone down and not make that call.

Then I always felt worse than I already did because now I'd convinced myself that I couldn't reach out to the people that care about me for whatever various reasons that little nagging voice decided to throw out. Which usually brought on feelings of hopelessness, loneliness and isolation.

I couldn't stand to be struggling through things alone but I couldn't bring myself to ask anyone to help me either. It was a painful cycle to go through and never failed to make things worse. I'd type out a message and then I'd talk myself out of sending it. I'd go to a person on my contacts list and stare at the little green phone that would make the call and then I'd talk myself out of it. Not because I didn't want to but I felt guilty for putting myself and my needs over the feelings and needs of the people in my life. I'd think about how they were doing and I'd decide I could wait, that I didn't need to put this, me, on their plate of concerns, too. Other times I'd look at how well things were going for them and couldn't be the one to bring their spirits down. I always worry about myself second. This is great for depression and/or anxiety because it makes it easy for the illness to convince you to keep things to yourself. 

I'd gather my courage up and prepare myself to reach out, to be vulnerable and then that nagging voice that tells you all those lies when you're struggling through depression or anxiety would beat me back down. I'd end up either feeling numb, like an empty shell and feeling so unbelievably broken. I'd sit there just staring off and wondering how I could be so dumb. Or I'd end up feeling too much, getting overwhelmed, and I'd wind up sobbing on the floor because even sitting up felt like it required too much energy. I'd cry until my eyes hurt, until I was shaking and sick at my stomach. Then regardless of either response, I'd be angry with myself for being so weak. I was weak for not being able to ignore the nagging little voice, for letting it talk me out of anything. I was weak for having no response, for feeling broken. I was weak for having such an emotional response, for curling up and crying until I couldn't cry anymore. I was weak for letting my mind get the best of me. I was weak for not being able to send a text or make a phone call. I was so angry at myself for not being able to do more and do better that I ended up feeling a lot of resentment and self-loathing.

None of that is reality. I am not weak now and I wasn't weak any time I was struggling with these things. It takes a great deal of strength to battle with mental illness every single day and keep doing it every single day. It beats you down, day after day. I wasn't weak and no one else is, either. It's hard battling an illness every day. It's hard battling an illness every other day or once a week or however often it happens. I was stronger than I ever realized or gave myself credit for and if you're struggling right now, so are you.

The people that care about you are never too busy to be there for you when you need them. Depression and/or anxiety will try to tell you they are but they're not. They're not too busy. You are not bothering them. Yes, they might be dealing with some stuff too but that doesn't invalidate what you're struggling with. Their good day won't be ruined because you needed someone to talk to or to be there for you. There is no "perfect" moment. There is no "better time." You are not a burden. You are not a hassle. You are not "another problem" or "more stress" for them to "deal with." You don't need to feel weak or guilty for needing help. You don't need to feel angry or loathsome because you can't do it on your own. You are not hopeless, broken or beyond helping. Don't listen to that nagging little voice in the back of your mind telling you how broken you are or how much you're a burden to those that care about you because that voice is lying and so unbelievably wrong.

You don't have to struggle alone. Even if you don't have anyone or don't feel comfortable reaching out to someone in your real life, there are so many online resources available for you to connect with someone. Therapy chats, apps like 7CupsofTea, groups, message boards, text message help/support and helplines you can call. Once you get passed the fear and uncertainty the first time, it's easier to ask for help and reach out when you need it. 

Please just know that you're not your illness, it doesn't define who you are. No matter what that little voice tries to tell you and no matter how loudly it tries to tell you it's lies, you are worthy, you are strong, you are capable and you are brave. 

I Drove

I sat at home feeling trapped. These walls felt like anxiety and containment instead of comfort and peace.

I got in my car and I drove. To where, I had no idea. I had no destination and no where to be.

I drove with the windows down letting the warm evening air tear through my hair, leaving my short locks tangled and wild.

I turned the music up loud enough to drown out every thought in my head. They couldn't scream louder than the music and I took comfort in that.

I drove far away from home watching as the tall buildings and shopping centers lessened until there were no more.

I drove until the crowded roads thinned out as the cars around me were fewer and fewer.

I drove and watched as the evening sky turned from a pale blue to shades of orange, red and purple.

I drove until the houses around me turned into nothing but fields and farmland.

I drove until I had no idea where I was and then I kept going.

I drove until I could see nothing around me but darkness and stars. I let that darkness wash over me, let it envelope me wholly.

Some people don't like the night but I do. The dark, star filled sky feels like home more than my own home does sometimes. I feel free instead of trapped in my own skin.

I don't have to smile in the dark. I don't have to think of things to say in the dark. I don't have to pretend in the dark. In the dark, I can just be myself, even when who I am feels heavier and darker than the blackest night sky.

What Does Progress Look Like?

Last week in therapy:

I expressed frustration to my therapist because I was feeling like I haven't been making any progress. She asked me what I felt like progress looked like, what I wanted progress to feel like. I honestly didn't have an answer because I hadn't given any real thought to the concept of progress. I just had this vague idea in my mind of progress without really thinking about what that might look or feel like. She let me sit there a few minutes to try and gather any thoughts I had but I still came up with nothing.

She said, "let me tell you about your progress then. At times, it can be difficult to see it yourself when it's happening gradually and slowly. Sometimes we need an outsider to show us how we're changing."

Honestly, I had to actively keep from rolling my eyes because it sounded so cliche. I didn't because I remembered I tend to think of a lot of cliches as being considered cliche because they're a simple truth that's stated frequently. So, I waited.

Therapist: "A year ago today, what were you doing?"

Me: "I have no idea. I was maybe in Austin or working or at the pool or something like that. Just another day."

Therapist: "What you weren't doing was sitting in front of a therapist getting yourself the help you needed and deserved. I'd call you still sitting in front of me progress. I'd call you still working every day to achieve mental wellness progress. Do you agree?"

Me: "I consider that progress but I don't feel like I've done much more than seek out professional help."

Therapist: "Okay lets start with anxiety. Are you using the tools and techniques I've given you for managing your anxiety?"

Me: "Yes."

Therapist: "Are those helping you manage your anxiety?"

Me: "Well yeah but-"

Therapist: "There isn't a but there. You're doing the things you need to do, that's progress. Every day you get out of bed and try, you're making progress. Every day you look in the mirror and tell yourself you have to keep moving, you're making progress. Every day you're feeling sad and reach out to someone or do something for yourself, you're making progress. Even days when you're feeling your depression or your anxiety or anything negative and you acknowledge it and let it know you see it and know you won't let it win in the end, you're making progress. If you can take all of this in and still don't feel like you're making progress, we can talk about that, we can work on that until you feel like you're making progress."

We continued discussing the progress she's seen in other areas and it's just little things. Things I hadn't even really noticed yet. When we ended, I had a lot to think about.  

I thought about all the little things that didn't look like progress but in fact was that exactly. Putting real thought into what I wanted progress to look like and be versus what realistic progress for me actually looks like. A realization that I was looking for some big thing to happen to feel like I've been making progress hit me and I started laughing at my self. I'm forever talking about how the little things in life add up to something bigger, something more, and here I was ignoring my own little victories that are adding up to something more.

Progress isn't the same for any two people. It's like two people having the same mental health issue, it's not the same even if it is the same disorder because it does different things for different people. We feel the same things but it's not the same exact experience. It makes logical sense that recovering and improving your mental health won't be the same as anyone else's. The mental health issues people face are always unique to them. Depression isn't exactly the same for any two people. What works for some won't work for others and looking at other people and comparing yourself to them only sets you up for failure.

I now realize that "seeing progress" isn't a grand gesture that will present itself. It's not an epiphany that's going to show itself in brilliant blinding light so there's no way I can miss it. It's not an automatic shift in thoughts, feelings and moods that happens all at once.

Having a bad day doesn't mean I'm not making progress still. It just means I've had a bad day and need to not let that take over and wreck the progress I have made. A bad day or a couple bad days in a row are going to happen still but I can't let them win overall.

It's okay to still feel weak sometimes, too. I felt like bad days or feeling weak meant that I was sliding backwards and let them get to me more than I should have. It's been a weird thing learning how to handle myself and learning how to think differently. It's definitely not a bad thing and I don't get discouraged by the progress I still have to make to get to where I want to be. I realize I'm not where I was last year mentally and emotionally and that feels good. It's reassurance from myself that I am capable, I am strong and I can do this. As much as I need support from people around me, I also need to believe in myself and right now, I'm feeling stronger than I have in a while. That's the kind of progress I wanted, I just needed help seeing it.