Fast forward nearly twenty-years later to a girl in a turned off car. Her breathing is increasingly rapid. Her hair is matted to her face by the stream of tears she keeps whipping from her eyes. She shakes from the cold air, distress and pure lake of control. She stares at a stream flowing feet in front of her car. The thought of it being cold enough to cause damage if she stayed in it too long danced in her head. Her phone was on speaker to communicate with the two people she trusted the most. The two people that brought her into this world. The only two people who could keep her from leaving it.
I guarantee that a few comments will be said about this blog. Many will blame it as a 'cry for help.' Others will say that positing an article like this has no place for facebook or any other social media. Where as others will say I'm just crazy and blaming a diagnosis to explain my actions and it is all in my head. Yet my favorite will be 'life is hard, get over it'.
Your opinions are as valid as the ones I am writing. However, I will say this. Today, I spoke to someone who had gone through a similar situation. Once the conversation was brought up, another person joined in, and then another. It was the first time I felt understood and the first time, shown in their eyes, they realized they were not alone. So sharing my story is not a way to blame anyone. It is here with the soul purpose of understanding and helping the people around me.
How did the girl who has always been so joyful, so filled with light and so driven, all of a sudden be crying in a parked car begging for things to end?
They say Hindsight is 20/20 and looking back, I agree. I can trace the start of my depression back to September of 2015. I was finishing up a feature that really shook my foundation of work to its final nesting grounds. I moved into a new apartment that was closer to the city, but further from my climbing gym and because I had the money and wanted to show it. My friend group was amazing, but I could never see them because of my work hours. We still fought to go out every weekend and boulder though. However, when you can't train during the week, your body doesn't strengthen for the weekend so I couldn't make progress.
These were the starting conditions. They were bad enough to get my irritated but not bad enough to make me see what was to come. I was still happy, laughing and able to smile through out my days. Especially at the gym and with friends. I still felt like I had complete control over my own life.
October came, which was a major high of life. I was on a month break from work, had all the time in the world and used every bit of it. I was always outdoors, always hiking and always climbing with friends. Every day was built on laughter. I was running before my climbing sessions, eating incredibly well and was able to go out and enjoy everything life had to offer.
However, with money not coming in, my overpriced apartment started to make reality hit. It was in the back of my head but I kept suppressing the little voice that told me to find something else to do. I needed the money.
October brought a lot of firsts as well. My first anxiety attack. I didn't think too much into the feeling. I knew I was worried about my income but didn't realize how much my body could not handle the idea of going back to set. The amount of hours worked in a week kept playing in my head and only let me focus on what I was going to loose in the process of working for that many hours. But again, I didn't realize what was happening to me, because if I did...I wouldn't have let this happen...
The most amazing guy walked into my life at the end of October, three days before the start of my next show. I had denied him once or twice for a date but he continued to send the sweetest "Good Morning" texts that reminded me to stop looking at the world so logically and enjoy the moments I am in.
On a Wednesday night after work, he called me and we talked for over an hour. I had the next day randomly off, which happened to be his off day as well. He asked to see me and, with hesitation, I said yes. So we climbed for a few hours and then spent the next six hours of the date talking about everything; family, faith, jobs, life, the future and more. He had stolen my heart at that very moment and I knew he would be such a blessing in my life. To which he was and is.
Work started. Our hours instantly went to 13 plus hours a day. The first few days, I was fine. I was going to be able to handle this. I had a job. I had a boyfriend who understood my industry. I had a friend group and I had climbing, at least on the weekends.
Two weeks later, my friend group broke apart. The spiral started from there.
Still in a cupcake faze, my parents came up for Thanksgiving and took my guy and I out climbing. But things were already wrong inside my head. I was starting to have daily anxiety attacks. I couldn't feel secure in my own relationship in the climbing gym because I felt pressure to be just as strong as him, and I felt frustrated that I couldn't train to get better. Three weeks into the relationship and I had 'lost' my friend group and my one comfort activity, climbing.
The work weeks went on and the job got worse. My co-workers and I could not get along. It was sixteen hours of hell a day. I was on the phone, crying, with my mom every day. Of course, the problem with work started almost six months before this, but my parents could not understand why and what my solution for it had become. It looked like just a faze. It was more.
To bring a rough job into a relationship is hard enough. Then, placing expectations of communication on your significant other leads to a continuation of emotional let downs. I was leaning so hard on him and drew happiness from him. He was able to go out and live the life I wanted to live while I was working random, long and hard hours. Especially on Fridays. And the worst part, to me was the jealousy I had towards the people who got to spend such great amounts of time with him while I physically couldn't.
This marked December. The anxiety attacks had increased to three to four times a day. I was driving an hour or more, from work, every day to go up to the Kennesaw gym just to touch rocks for ten minutes and get a hug from my source of happiness (yes, I know how wrong that sounds now.) But, as everyone would expect, this wasn't fixing anything. My job had gotten so bad that crying to and from work was considered a good day.
I was learning a lot about myself and how people perceived me and I didn't like it. I was all of a sudden in social situations, gatherings, parties and dinners. They were all fun but learning how to be social took a lot of effort. I was doing 80 hour work weeks with driving every night and then going home to do it all again. Four hours of sleep a night with that schedule was starting to show.
But I had to make it work. I had to. I had to fight to keep it all together.
Insecurities built to an outrageous amount by January. I was always tired. I hadn't seen my friends in months (not because of him). We had three parties a weekend to attend. There was no sleep. Climbing trips had turned into a chore and a trap. I felt like I was expected to be happy but inside I couldn't. I was frustrated. My anger was easy to rise. My body kept shutting down on me when it came to interacting with others. My mind wouldn't stop racing. The anxiety attacks turned into panic attacks and were happening regularly. There was a permanent hand squeezing my lungs, not letting air in or out. I could get worked up in a matter of seconds over the smallest thing. It didn't matter what it was, it triggered instant low moments.
I'm not saying I didn't have high moments during these months. I would have a great high of energy, passion, happiness and joy and then a second later, two days of extreme lows usually brought on by the anxieties of going back to work and having to leave everything I loved over and over again.
The fight became impossible to handle. My body stated to physically shut down. I ended up with an infection. That was the start of the end. It triggered a cold that was impossible to fix. Not only had I 'lost' my friends, sleep, my parent's understanding, climbing and joy in my job...but I also had lost my health. I became overly frustrated and could be irritated so easily.
Communication between my boyfriend and I became limited. I felt a block, like talking on the phone was no longer something either of us looked forward to because it was all based on 'yea work was crappy but whatever...how was climbing'. I didn't want to bring him into my frustration and (I assume) he didn't want to let me see how much I was missing out on. Which shows his thoughtful character. So I started suppressing as hard as I could. I wanted a happy relationship. I didn't want to continue bringing in problems every time I saw him because I never got to see him. I wanted us to work. I had fallen in absolute love with him and his amazing family!
January brought another surprise. Numbness. Living with the feeling of anxiety in my chest was normal now. I would have a major panic attack in the car, let it calm down to an anxiety attack, then walk in like nothing was wrong. But it was all wrong. I no longer felt anything. I no longer felt God (which He and I have been on point since I was five), which was a major issue that scared me. I no longer felt loved. Even when I was kissed, hugged or told how amazing I was by my significant other, I started to feel nothing. I knew he did and I trusted that he did, but I felt nothing. My body was done with feeling anything.
Smiling and laughing got really challenging. I became incredibly snappy. I no longer had my friends. My parents were frustrated with me. I didn't feel God. I couldn't feel happiness or any emotional throw of love. I hated my job. Climbing outdoors was gone because I made myself believe that I HAD to be with him every moment I wasn't at work. Communication had almost seised to exist between us and I could tell that I was starting to wear on him. Who would want to have someone that always had something wrong or always brought up something that was wrong?
End of January. This is when I finally accepted that I needed help.
The first day of the third day weekend was tough. I was tired. We climbed and then he and I had plans, that ended up being broken. I was already on a limb from a major panic attack that sent me home to my bed for a few hours just before we climbed. So, I frustratedly left. (Again, my actions were very rude and uncalled for, but I never noticed because this is how I was now used to feeling...angry, tired, betrayed, numb, frustrated, anxiety filled and powerless) On the drive home, the first wave of the episode hit. I thought I had lost him. The last thing that was making me happy, I thought I had lost him...I saw it in his eyes.
I cried myself to sleep.
The next morning, I called my mom and cried for over an hour. My body was convulsing. I had no solutions in life, I was tired, I was done. I sent a text over telling this to my happiness. I was scared of myself. I no longer knew what to do. I didn't feel God. I didn't feel anything. I didn't know what to do.
No reply.
Crying for hours, I finally scooted myself out of bed and went to the climbing gym. I didn't touch a single rock. I just sat there, in the arms of an incredible friend and told him that I believed I was suicidal this morning. (Little did I know...) He helped me breath and calm down so I could leave the gym to go to dinner with my guy and his wonderful family.
Phone call with no pick up asking about dinner. Text message back; I canceled dinner.
My heart broke. I had already felt like I had lost him but this was the one thing I was hoping would change everything so I wouldn't have to go home and be alone. But he did what he believed was best and told me I needed space from him.
I broke. Hard. It took all of five seconds for my body to start convulsing in violent tears and heavy breathing. That was the last thing to loose in my life. That was the last thing holding me up. (A lot of weight to, unfairly, put on one person's shoulders.)
It was in the low thirties, at night, in the parking lot of my favorite place in Georgia. I turned my car off, pushed my seat back and shivered from the cold, the tears and the pain. I called my mom and I broke apart. I couldn't breath. Tears were streaming down my face in a way that I had never experienced before. My fingers and toes were numb. My heart was racing. My vision was focused on the stream in front of me, mocking me. I was rocking back and forth, but my eyes never left the stream. It was my way out of all this pain.
I kept repeating to my mom, 'I am done. I don't want to do this anymore. I'm tired of fighting. I just don't want to do this anymore.' She was able to get me to calm down but five seconds later, it would activate right back up and shut me down again. It was a constant, physical battle for over two hours until I said the one thing that haunts me...
My body stopped shacking; from the cold, from the pain, from the tears. My eyes dried up. I lifted my sight from the creek up to the stars. I felt nothing. I didn't feel God. I didn't feel pain. I didn't feel scared. I didn't feel anything. My entire body went numb. 'I am done.' were the words I spoke to my mom. 'I am done.'
And I was.
Thankfully, she asked me about my incredible man and I instantly got worked up again to feeling overwhelming pain, which I believe is what kept me going. I didn't feel like I could call him. He wanted me to have a break from him, but I don't think he realized that the one thing I did need was him. Not the words he had or the wisdom he brought...just him. So, I called a friend.
No answer.
Called another friend who instantly started praying on the phone. I cut her off. So bitter and so hurt by what God was 'allowing' to happen that I didn't even want to speak with Him. So she kept praying silently and helped me find someone to get me.
Two phone calls later and one of my favorite guy friends dropped everything and drove to find me. He walked up behind my car, where I met him, and fell into his arms, heaving to breath and crying. All of my weight instantly went onto him. I couldn't speak, I just wanted to be held and wanted to cry. So he let me.
I cried in his arms for over an hour. He calmed me down and somehow made me laugh as well. The tears were starting to disappear. His amazing girlfriend brought chocolate and words of wisdom quickly after that. And then another friend, who continuously prayed for me, talked me through the nights plan; her house for clothes, then a night at my house to make sure I was not going to be a harm to myself.
As we started the drive, I called the one person I wanted to hear from. It took a few rings but he finally answered, hurt in his voice. I was bitter (not your concern on what about) and started off very harsh. However, like the incredible man his mom raised, he quickly became the guy I knew I loved. He made sure I was ok, started speaking to me about God, love, his past and letting me know everything was going to be okay and that he was always going to be right there for me. He spoke words of affirmation, to which I stopped, because I was still numb. I heard the words but couldn't feel them. I knew I was still not wanting to be apart of myself.
Luckily, it was a three day weekend. I spent the entire day at his parent's house. It was truly a day of understanding, rebuilding and a plan to fix what all was going on. I saw a speck of life back in me when I was watching home videos of him and his family. I was emotionally drained but I saw life and joy and felt love. Not only from his family, but from mine as well. I was going to get better!
Another work week came as harshly as the past ones and went. I woke up to texts from my dad questioning my choices for the future. The conversation brought back some of the feelings I was still learning to control. The conversation went on for hours and I finally left the gym, where another situation kept bubbling back to the surface. I called my dad and my mom and we, after a few snaps, talked everything out. We had a game plan. We had an idea of where to go and we were working towards it. I felt like I was finding myself again. I had a goal.
But things were, apparently, far from ok in my romantic relationship. A situation reoccured the next weekend. Something that had followed us since November. A little fox that was never caught. The little fox that ended up catching us in a trap. I'm not going to go into detail because that is not fair on any party. There were faults on all sides of the situation. Just know it was the trigger to two people crying and a door being closed.
A week and a half after my desire to walk into a creek and now I was sitting on the rushing water of a street, back on my car, being pelted by rain. Crying. Not caring that I was being soaked and had no change of clothes. Not caring that it was midnight and I had an 8am call the next day (which I lied and had said it was 1pm just so we could work things out.) Not caring that if I stayed there the rest of the night.
But I got up. I got into my car. I started my car. Drove out of the neighborhood into the complex out of the street and lost everything. I called my sleeping parents. My voice not able to communicate. My eyes, again, drowning in tears. My heart was physically broken. Him being in tears and still making sure I walked to my car with shoes on, physically broke me. Him trying to help me with my coat but me taking it away, physically broke me. Him holding me and us both crying in his room, physically broke me. The second I realized I lost him, fell back on his bed and picked up my phone...physically broke me. And my parents could feel it.
My mom, been having going some medical treatments, passed the phone to my dad. He was truly amazing. Just like me mom, he calmed me down. He spoke such life, love and purpose back into me that I was able to breath again. The fault was not just mine. It hurt. It still hurts, but I cannot put all the blame on myself. My dad helped me see reality. Helped me see perspective. Helped me see life and helped me see a plan. They both spoke so much life and love into me that night that I truly felt like I could do this. That life was still possible. I mean, I couldn't go any further down so I might as well start climbing. Which, as my amazing parents continued to tell me, I did not loose everything, even if it felt like it.
The morning after, I was able to talk to his mom for over an hour. Their entire family is so incredible. They are such a blessing. His mom and I connected so well and loosing him made me feel like I was going to loose the entire family. But she was there and has been there. Out of respect, I had to shut the door but I will say this, whoever the amazing girl is that gets to be apart of this family...I hope she sees how incredibly blessed she is. From his father and his joy for his job, his mom and everything about her (heart, mind, soul, laugh, strength), his four beautiful sisters and his four legged house protector...this girl better realize she is getting the top of the line in love, support, prayer and passion. Not only from his family, but from him as well. Once she sees the love in his eyes when him and his mom communicates, she will know exactly what to expect from the future; love.
I cannot put all the blame on myself. Every relationship is two sided and my perspective is my perspective. In writing this, I am not putting either one of us at fault. I am writing this in therapy and meaning. I am writing this in such understanding with myself and hoping that the next few paragraphs, now given the back story, will be able to help someone feel less alone. Will help someone find a solution and will help someone continue to fight for life, because there is joy after the storm.
I will not lie, the second that I realized I had a 'break' or 'break up'(first relationship so I'm not sure if there is a difference), a section of my mind cleared. Not because it was him or that I function better without him but because it was one of the pieces of the falling puzzle that I was not having to fight for any more. It could have been my job or my apartment or my friends. Anything actually leaving would be a release on my mind and body. And it was.
But this is what I realized this weekend when running into a great guy at the boulder field who instantly connected with my story...it needs to be talked about.
I am diagnosed as depressive. No, I didn't need to go see a doctor to get that diagnosis. I also don't want to be on medication for it.
I didn't want to come to terms with this 'illness' for several reasons. First, its a cliche in America to talk about. I mean, my life is pretty freakin blessed. I was raised as the happiest child in the world who always was loved, cherished and cared for. A heart of gold, a passion for life and a fight for her dreams that was border lined obsessive. My relationship with God was seen, known and never failing. How could this human being have depression? It just didn't make sense...but that is what depression does, it doesn't make sense.
It isn't always seen, especially by the person who has it. And usually, they don't want to accept the idea that it is in them. It is chalked down to a minimal irritation or a 'get over it' 'welcome to adulthood' attitude. Yet it is so much more.
Depression seeps into every area of you life slowly. It can start with one thing, mine was my job, and end up pulling everything into it. Life slowly starts to become cluttered. It starts to feel like you can't catch up with the things around you. Things become slightly out of order. Just enough to make your mind focus on the disorganization.
Once its there, it decides to grow your focus. My disorganization ended up triggering anxiety and panic attacks when I couldn't keep up with the mess that was growing. The bigger the mess felt for me, the more or bigger the panic attacks happened. Then, the spiral occurs.
My depression fled into my job, loosing my apartment, my friends, climbing, time, and ultimately, my relationship.
This is what pisses me off the most about this illness, and I can't express the anger I have towards it...the effects it has on the people closest to you. I give my boyfriend an extreme amount of credit for being strong enough to walk away because this illness brings so much anger, hostility, problems, resentment and insecurity into a relationship. Not only that, but who wants to be dragged down every single day into a hole just because they are in love? How can one person help the other out if they are being dragged down as well? Now, I'm not blaming depression for all that happened but depression changes the person who has it into someone they are not.
Also, the timing of this illness makes me extremely upset. This couldn't have happened during my 22 years of being single? This couldn't have happened six months down the road when there was a foundation set and a true idea of who the real person was? Not only did it effect the person I fell in love with, but it turned me into someone I wasn't and that ended up making me loose both of us in the matter of months.
This illness is stupid. Its frustrating. Its serious and its something that should be talked about with more awareness. I lost myself completely. In the matter of 4-5 months, I went from the happiest, most giggliest girl in the world to a girl contemplating suicide in front of the climbing gym that has brought her so much life. In the matter of months. Everything was turned upside down. My confidence became insecurities. My laughter became tears. My hope became distress and my passion for God became loud silence. All of this, every bit of it written, unwritten, unheard or unexplored, happened in less than half a year.
My life became the least important thing to me in the matter of 120 days.
...and I dragged others down with me. That is where the pain truly begins. It effected my parents greatly. Their baby girl was no longer who they knew and was no longer happy. Their little girl could no longer feel the joys her life had to offer. It had broken her into a million pieces and left a shelf of hurt, anger and, eventually, numbness.
It effected my sister. Her Shorty was no longer protected by her because an illness can't be shot out...it has to be fought out from the inside.
It took ahold of my very first love. A man so strong, so loyal, so caring, loving, thoughtful and joyous and broke him down as well. In return, it started to seep into his conversations which, by natural laws, effected his amazing parents and his built friendships through his worry towards the person he loved.
It effected my friends. The ones who were worried so much that they gave up their entire afternoon and night to take care of a friend who called to say she needed help from herself.
It effected my relationship with God. I no longer felt him or could hear Him. I saw no blessings. I heard no voice. I saw no signs. I became bitter and would not talk to Him for days.
It is still affecting my job. It affects how I function through a work day and how I treat, and in return, treated, by my co-workers.
And most importantly, it effected myself. I lost sight of dreams, ambitions, passions and joys. I lost altitude quickly. I was no longer drawing joy from myself but from another human being. I was gone.
I was told by his mom about several fantastic analogies about our souls, about my soul. One she explained to me that I was a caterpillar. I have always been able to look forward and become excited about the next thing in life. I moved with life. I was happy doing what caterpillars do. I started to build my cocoon, my life foundations, and started to live in the small area. However, after time, it started to get to be too much. I had to get out. I had to leave the cramped space...just like my soul was trying to tell me that I need to change. I need to keep fighting. I need to make a move. I need to go, because if I don't go, I will never be able to see the butterfly that has always been inside and what I am capable of.
I'm telling you, between my two parents, his two parents and him, I could not have found any better teachers and advice givers for this time in my life! Still at awe with the wisdom and love built into every single one of them.
I instantly became self aware again, after the second break down, and had to start pulling myself back together. There was a plan in place for my job that my dad and I had made. I started running again, without headphones, which placed endorphins back into my body regularly and has helped me concentrate on my head space. Yet in climbing, I wanted out of my head (for obvious reasons) and started listening to music to cancel out the world around me until I could send a project or connect with a climber near me. Not only has my climbing improved, but I have been able to send so many incredible projects that I have been scared of attempting.
Yes, I still feel pain because I miss an exceptional part of my life. I still hate walking into the gym and not being his belay partner or bouldering cheerer or being able to look across the matt and see an encouraging face with a smile or wink. It hurts. However, it is not my focus. I have found joy in myself again. I have found confidence in my abilities again. I have gone to counseling, have done braincore therapy, talked to a very talented life coach and have spent hours communicating with my amazing, loving family. I'm back outside climbing and sending projects with a smile on my face. I am conquering my head space, my heart, my joy, my life and, soon, my career and apartment.
I am thankful to have found love. I am thankful for the depression. I am thankful for the past four months because it has made me more self aware. It was brought me back to myself. It has taken my life, showed me I need a change, and has forced me to make that change. I needed it all to become who I am becoming. I needed to become more confident, become mentally healthy (or on a path to it) and physically healthy. I needed to realize what I wanted out of life and I needed to make it happen. And this illness made me do it.
As much as I hate what happened in the process, especially to the people I love, it had to happen and I am thankful that it did. I am thankful it lead me back to my family (on such a deeper level), to God, to my friends, climbing (indoor and outdoor) and running. It also introduced me to an entire family that will always be in my heart and a group of climbers that I would have never been able to connect with or share so much joy with otherwise. It also brought me a standard of the kind of man that I want out of life, what works and what doesn't and what both parties will have to do to make the relationship flourish. (First relationship...so depression and major life learning, connection and trust experiences are things that shouldn't be put together right off the bat.)
I am sorry to all those who have been effected by my depression. I have had to forgive myself, my situation and all that has happened because of it. I am stronger now. I am loved. I am able to concur and I am able to change my path in life because I AM, and that is all I have to be.
I left out a few of the other details out of respect for the people it involved. The story should not be told by one person with one perspective but worked on by both parties. Take what I say as you wish but know where my heart is. This illness is a problem and it hurt the people I love. Medication should not be an option. There are ways to push through it, fight it and find yourself again. Luckily, and so blessed am I, that I had the people in my life that I do, and did, to help me. Some people are not so lucky.
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