My Sundown

Every month of 2017 has found a way to kick me in the ass and bring me to my knees, and month eleven was no walk in the park. November has been filled with lots of reading, research, fright, pain, self destruction, self discovery, and resolve. It's funny, because when I started down this path of "getting help" in July, I just sort of assumed things would start to improve. But I guess they say it's always darkest before the dawn...and apparently July wasn't the bottom of the hole.

Emotions have been all over the place. I've been doing a lot of self-discovery through IOP and individual therapy as well as through my reflection time and writing. In that, though, there's this constant inner battle: do I go towards what I really am and what I really want to be, or do I continue down the path of what I've always been and what I've always shown others? Those things aren't the same, believe it or not. I use perfectionism, outgoing traits, and insane levels of energy to show that I'm happy, healthy, giving, amazing... basically I try my hardest to do and be whatever I think will please others and, hopefully, mean people will like me. I don't stand up for myself because that means conflict or making someone angry, and that may mean that someone would think less of me or abandon me. But is what I've been doing what is best for me?

When I shared my post "Diagnosis Murder," I had several people react to one minor thing I said. The entire post was about my mental illnesses and how I just want to be able to admit what I'm going through without judgement or fear...but very few comments, reactions, messages, or avoidances that came as a response to that had anything to do with my mental health: it had to do with the fact that I identified as bi. It's funny, because out of everyone, I had one friend who said, "You've never said it out right, but I've always known. You've never tried to hide the fact that you like the ladies as well as the guys." Yet another friend that I've had for only a few years less said, "I seriously had no idea." What does that tell me? I hide myself.

But now that I am becoming aware and having this "awakening," I can see the impact it's having on my relationships. There are changes in how people are approaching me, there's been pullback, there's been some who have admitted "I don't know if I can do this anymore...I don't know if I can support this new you." And then as I crumble from this, I find myself reaching out but then pushing even more away. Self destruction at its best?

So what have I been reading and researching? A little bit of mental health, a little bit of personal legal, FMLA, more mental health. The most recent reading started with anything
 introduction to Interpersonal Effectiveness from a DBT (Dialectical Behavior Therapy) workbook that the ever amazing Devon & Chloe gave me after a pretty significant meltdown at IOP the Monday before Thanksgiving. When I told them that I'd read it on Wednesday and wanted the next chapter, Devon said, "I'm really glad you read through that and did some thinking. What I really want is for you to plan to go through the DBT process after you leave the program here. I really think you'll get a lot from it and that DBT will really help you."

Devon knows what she's doing, and she's one of the people that I owe still being alive to, so over the long weekend I did some reading about DBT. It is a research-based, very systematic type of therapy that is derived from CBT (Cognitive Behavioral Therapy). It focuses on several things: mindfulness, emotion regulation, interpersonal effectiveness, and distress tolerance. If you do the full process and do it correctly, you attend a skills group weekly (group therapy where the skills are taught and you work through them), individual therapy once weekly, contact and coaching with your therapist throughout the week via telephone, email, or text, and your therapist is also part of a team that works together. The minimum it takes to go through the process is 6 months, but most people take a year or two to really get to a point where they are able to manage and apply without therapist intervention. DBT has been shown to significantly help with suicidal ideation, self-harm, and reduce hospitalizations and dropouts from treatment. What made me start reading more, though, was that it was originally developed and still used as main source of treatment for people with Borderline Personality Disorder.

So then, of course, I had to know more about BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder). The more I read, the more I felt not only enlightened and intrigued, but the more I felt like I was reading about myself. I've always struggled to find a place where I felt like I "belong." I tend to try to be constantly busy, engaged, or around people, sometimes to the point where I overextend myself and burn the candle at both ends...but this leaves me where I'm rarely just alone with myself or where I might think that I am alone or lacking in purpose. I often ask people for advice or their opinion because I don't know what mine is or should be; I use others to validate myself and my thoughts. I don't trust myself and often feel uncomfortable. My mood can change rapidly, with little or no logical reason, but often influenced by others, small things, or music. My self-image and how I see my actions are usually very different than the way I see others and the way others see me. I struggle to feel in control of my own life, I become overly stressed about even the smallest of things, and I am often paranoid that I've done something wrong or that something bad is going to happen. Until adulthood, I've never had seriously lasting friendships or relationships and most of my friendships and relationships that I can remember from childhood and teenage years involved me being glued to the person (or people), having a need to constantly communicate, sometimes reaching near obsession levels and doing everything possible to maintain the other person's happiness so that they would keep me around...then inevitably something would happen and either I would suddenly start avoiding the person and being difficult or I would have this sense that I had done something and I'd start going to extremes to reach "forgiveness" with the person. When I get depressed it goes down hill fast. In high school I got into cutting, wrote songs and poems about feeling lost/empty/alone, wrote goodbye letters and tried to give away things often, and overdosed on medications several times in hopes it would kill me. Through the course of this year I've fallen deep back into lots of those patterns with self harm, suicidal ideation and planning. I've been jumping around all sorts of crazy ideas like having more kids, going to grad school, going to conducting workshops, trying to get my friends to commit to monthly "ladies nights," etc...all of it is because I feel like I don't have purpose, direction, identity, worth.

So tonight I'm going to ask Devon about BPD.

Here's the real deal: I want to be so much more than what I am and what I've been this year, especially this month. I've come to the conclusion that there's a lot here that I've uncovered and there's still lots more to go. I don't know what lies ahead or who is actually going to do this with me, and that literally terrifies me so much that last night I suddenly was so overwhelmed with the panic that my 3 best friends may leave me that I had the urge to just floor the gas pedal and run into the trees.

"I see it around me, I see it in everything...i could be so much more than this...
I said my goodbyes...this is my sundown...I've got to be more than this...
With one hand high...you'll show them your progress...you'll take your time...but no one cares...no one cares..."

Wisdom (Serenity Prayer, Part 3 of 3)

At the end of each night in my Intensive Outpatient Group Therapy, we say The Serenity Prayer. I've spent some time writing about the 3 major focal points of the prayer: acceptance, courage, and wisdom. This is the final one.

Hindsight is always 20/20, right? We all have parts of our past that we aren't the most proud of admitting or that we wish we would have handled differently. There are moments that we make mistakes, that we all fail, that we all stumble. And we are supposed to accept that these happen, forgive or ask for forgiveness, and move on. Sometimes, though, that letting go, that moving on, is the absolute hardest thing to do.

I am a bit of a control freak. I plan out everything, sometimes even to the smallest details like planning out an entire day hour by hour, line item by line item. I have routines and I follow them religiously. Some of it is my Type A personality, sure. Some of it might have to do with being the oldest child perhaps. You might even use my horoscope to explain it a bit. Yet, part of it is my way to hold power, avoid conflict, confusion, fear, or anger. It's something I need so that I don't become overwhelmed with anxiety or panic. It's a way to cope, to protect myself, to maintain myself.

Unfortunately, though, there are lots of things in life that are so completely out of the scope of our control. It's hard to admit that something is out of your control. Sometimes we can spend huge amounts of our time and energy worrying, fighting, or even just contemplating these things...things that it doesn't matter what we do, things that are someone else's crap to carry or clean up. Sometimes we try to take ownership or control by placing the blame or ownership onto ourselves falsely. All that does, though, is make us feel like crap and then spin our tires because we still can't do anything about it because, guess what? Still not in our control.

It takes some serious skill for someone like me, a control freak/perfectionist with non-existent levels of self worth or self-esteem, to build up this "wisdom to know the difference." I've been wrestling with my thoughts and feelings so much, trying to separate what I can control and what I can't. Once I do that, then I can begin to work on what I can control, and try to work towards acceptance for the things that aren't under my umbrella of control.

One of the biggest things I've always fought to control is how others see me/think of me/care about me. There's so much wrong with that, but after years of feeling like you don't fit anywhere, after years of wandering, you crave acceptance, friendship, respect, appreciation, love. That means trying to determine what people want, how they want you to be, then fitting into that mold. But doing that means denying yourself the truth, it means rejecting who you really are. Instead of trying to fit what someone wants, you should be showing what you are and that will attract people who will be all that you need for the REAL you. That doesn't mean that everything about me has been fake if you've known me at any point prior to the present, it just means that sometimes I would only share parts of myself, hide pieces of myself, or slightly reshape portions of me to make it all fit into a package that you'd find pleasing...I love to please people.

I've spent most of the month of November trying to do a better job of being true to myself. It's hard, though: it's hard to see people change their body language around you, it's hard to feel people that you considered to be good friends or people that you'd felt you'd established an amazing rapport with over the last year or so suddenly push you away, avoid you, or turn cold. I've felt a lot of heartache this month, I've felt quite a bit of rejection, I've taken a lot very personally, I've wondered what I've done wrong. But that's just it: what did I really do wrong? All that I can say is that I spent too long denying myself of the freedom to be true. I've spent my whole life not really understanding and never really loving myself because of my attempt to conceal my innermost reality. That's what I've done that WAS in my control. But I can't control a coworker that I thought was a friend suddenly being short, distant, and cold with me: that's her choice. I can't control someone twisting my words and never giving me the chance to clarify. I can't control others rejecting me. I can't control my husband's family choosing to treat me like crap and tell me how horrible I am for what I've put him through while I try to heal. I can't control other people.

Here's what I can control, though: I can control my reactions to people and events. And I'm trying. I'm trying to still be pleasant, interact, and reach out to that coworker to let her know I'm still here and still me. I can tell myself that my words are mine and that I know what I mean to say. I can prepare clarifications and apologies in case I am ever given the chance to use them. I can choose to walk away and not accept verbal abuse or hurtful language. And, most of all, I can continue to be me...all of me...and allow myself to feel real happiness for the first time in a long time. I can gain comfort with myself and who I am. I can continue to embrace and discover myself along this journey. Because there's still so much more life to go, and I want it to be true.

And that, my friends, is the wisdom to know the difference.

Validation

Validation is telling someone that what they feel, think, believe, and experience is real, logical, and understandable. We can validate others (or have others validate us), or we can self-validate by quietly reassuring ourselves that what we feel inside is real, important, and makes sense. We all have moments of doubt or questions about the reality of our emotions, thoughts, and experiences. Validation helps us have better relationships, calms intense situations, allows us to better problem solve or work through the feelings, and allows us to let go of pain and exhaustion that can be caused by self-justification or self-doubt. Ultimately, validation can improve the quality of our lives.

Often times, though, we are taught that certain thoughts or feelings are "inappropriate" or not what we "should" be thinking, feeling, or doing. Somewhere along the way we are taught that we should trust others, but not ourselves. We are taught that our inner experience is not valid, is flawed, or is lying to us. We then start to constantly question ourselves: 

"Do I REALLY feel this way?"

"Should I even feel this way?"

"Is this feeling unfair or inconvenient to others in my life?"

"Do others EXPECT me to feel this way?"

Invalidation happens when someone's thoughts, feelings, or experiences are rejected, ignored, or judged. It can often cause emotional distance from others, or in cases of self-invalidation, it can cause identity crisis. It highly impacts people with mood disorders such as depression and can cause the recovery process to be compromised. Sometimes invalidation can happen without the party who is invalidating even realize what they are doing is harmful. Sometimes it can be used as manipulation or to control what someone believes or thinks about situations.

Personally, I have spent many years not only unable to self-validate, but actually self-invalidating constantly to the highest degree. I take even the kindest of words from others and try to deconstruct them internally to make them negative. I add degrading and horrible insults towards myself when apologizing to others. I have denied myself of dreams, goals, and feelings by telling myself that they aren't real, aren't achievable for me, or aren't what I really need (even if they are what my heart truly desires). I've also allowed others to invalidate my emotions and thoughts, both for the purposes of pain and the purpose of help. People can invalidate without even meaning to harm; trying to "help" by rerouting or discouraging the feelings or thoughts can be just as bad as not acknowledging them at all.

I consider myself to be a very emotional and passionate person. One of my best friends recently described me as wearing my heart on my sleeve. I try to see the best in everyone, even when it's hard. Yet, I am so focused on the negative inside myself, so concerned that I can't trust myself or be comfortable with myself and my own thoughts. It's why I avoid conflict, why I constantly apologize, why I constantly have anxiety and try to overly analyze what people say (or don't say) and do (or don't do). It's why I constantly worry that people will abandon me or hate me: that I am always the cause of discontent. It's why I get overwhelmed in high-emotion moments and struggle to find control of myself.

A part of the process of how to validate anyone is by examining and defining the inherent worth of the person. Enter the struggle zone for me: I can't even begin to see the worth in myself. It's been a question I've asked myself a lot lately, "What makes me worthy of life?" I've discussed it with therapists and friends, "What happened to cause me to have rock bottom self-esteem?" That's all part of it: it's hard to validate yourself when you see yourself as worthless, when you don't feel like you matter to yourself or anyone else.

So what makes me worthy? I'm a person, I'm unique and individually made. I am kind, loving, and genuinely care about everyone in my life. I am passionate, fiercely loyal, and would willingly put my own life and risk for those dear to my heart (which, more than likely if you know me, that's you). I may be quick to anger, but I always forgive almost as quickly and never let things linger. I give my money, time, energy, and love often and without hesitation or resentment.

Another part of validation is that you examine and discuss the thoughts or feelings one is having by simply stating the facts and reality. No casting judgement or trying to downplay. There's always room for emotions to just be. To judge what someone is feeling is to say that they are somehow wrong or that their experience is unrealistic or inauthentic. Everyone sees life through their own eyes, and these eyes are developed differently and witness life through a unique perspective. We are all individuals, so it makes sense that how we see life is individual as well.

I find it easy to empathize with others and to see their perspective. I can rationalize almost anything that someone says the feel or experience...except for myself. I often work to discredit myself. I argue with myself and accuse myself of being dishonest. Sometimes I tell myself that what I think or feel isn't valid because it's different than those around me; sometimes I tell myself that my feelings don't matter or are unequal to others. And sometimes I tell myself that I am undeserving, so it doesn't matter what I think or feel anyway.

I've been experiencing a lot of emotions over the last 2-3 weeks, and I've been trying to do a better job of allowing myself to sit with the emotions and thoughts for some time without judging them, without trying to argue with myself or dismiss them, and also without doing any actions based on them. I am sometimes very quick to act on my emotions or to act in ways to try to counteract the thoughts or feelings. By doing this, I am often invalidating myself or trying to find validation from others to fill the void. But I don't just do this with validation: I try to fill all the voids in my own thinking, feelings, self-esteem, and self love with anyone (or anything) that I can. I'm learning the hard way how incredibly unhealthy this is and how much destruction it can cause to even the strongest of relationships or bonds.

My hope is that, in taking the time to write this and really think about it, I can work to do a better job with validation and acceptance of myself. Once I do that, I can try to start repairing some damages with others. Some may take more time than others, some may be completely destroyed...and I take full ownership for it all. Sadly it may all just be part of the journey. But I can only hope to come out on the other side better than I was when this all started, healthier than ever. And I can only hope that those who genuinely love me and care about me will be willing to accept my mistakes, my moments of failure, my questioning of aspects of my life and, with any luck, we can all come out on the other side with better, healthier, and stronger bonds and relationships as well.

Step one: accept myself and validation of my emotions.

Speak.

I've heard a lot lately about words and their power. Most of my life has shown me the power the words of others hold in my own life. What I didn't realize, though, is that sometimes our words hold powers that we didn't even intend, impacts that weren't predicted or part of the plan. See, it's not the words themselves that hold the power: the power comes when the words are heard, interpreted, translated, and examined carefully.

I am often afraid to speak my mind. I often say yes and agree to most anything. I often bite my tongue and just nod. It's not just because I'm afraid of the power of my own words (though sometimes that is part of it)...it's because I'm afraid what words I will receive in return and how that response will hit me. I am afraid of conflict, I'm afraid of judgement, I'm afraid of denial or rejection...I'm just so very afraid of...well...life.

After my first hospitalization back in September, I emerged ready to heal, ready to push forward, ready to tackle the world. At first, I made good progress in areas...but those were only baby steps and the path ahead started to look fairly long and VERY intimidating. It's funny how the landscape can change as you start to move and uncover it, how what you thought was a small rock turns out to be a huge bolder or that "little hill in the distance" ends up being a grand mountain. What I found was that the things that I thought were the problems were either not the real problem at all or, if they were at least part of the problem, they were merely just the tip of the iceberg.

So, away I chipped...and chipped...and pushed...and climbed...

Then I lost my balance. Some rocks that I thought were stable and sturdy really weren't able to hold much of anything. Everything started to crumble and I was left just hanging on for dear life, desperately grabbing for any slight help I could find. Sometimes, when you are desperate or grasping for straws, your thoughts get clouded or confusing and your judgement gets compromised. I spiraled, I rolled down, I lost my way and ended up completely off the path.

I think, in a way, I didn't want the truth to be real. I didn't want to admit what the problems REALLY were...what the real issue is. It hurts to admit that you have failed, and it hurts even more to admit that the reason for failure was simply yourself, nothing more and nothing less. Without your voice, you can't speak for yourself...without passion, fire, blood, you can't fight for yourself...a doormat can't stand up to anyone, it can only be stepped on by everyone else's feet. If you are acting and wearing a mask, your true self can't be seen or known.

I'll admit, I messed up BIG TIME Tuesday night...words have power, my friends, this I now know. And even if what was said or what I thought in my mind were not was perceived on the other end, the real impact isn't what I said or what I meant but how someone HEARD it. I should have never said or done what I did, but I can't take it back...so here I am, scared, desperate, and completely exposed...probably the most vulnerable I've ever been.

...yet I suddenly feel...free?

Since Tuesday night, I've said a lot more that's needed to be said for...well...years. For the first time that I can ever remember, I've spoken my mind to someone that I've been too scared to say anything real to in years. I've admitted some not so glamorous truths about myself, I've made some hefty requests, and I've given my view on the state of affairs. Each sentence comes with shaking, trembling, worry...

...yet so far they've been met with willing and listening ears?

I FOUND MY VOICE.

I am completely terrified of what the shake out will be from Tuesday, yes. I am horrified that my recent brain fog and confusion caused me to feel things that are not realistic, and those unrealistic feelings caused me to ruin something amazing. I worry I'll never talk to that dear person ever again, that I caused permanent damage that can't be undone, forgiven, or repaired.

I'm also thankful that I made the choice to push through the moment of terror and use my words in a different way. I'm glad that I've been able to speak my truth and show my feelings to the person who should always know me best, the person who should always be the one standing there cheering louder than anyone else for me. And maybe this new voice will transform this relationship too. It may also cause it to crumble, to break, to become ruins...but I won't know until I speak.

And I can't be silent anymore. I can't be the doormat going forward. It's time to use my voice. How you choose to take these words is up to you...I only speak them.

Courage (Serenity Prayer, Part 2 of 3)

At the end of each night at my Intensive Outpatient Group Therapy, we say The Serenity Prayer. I'm going to spend some time over the next few weeks writing about the 3 major focal points of the prayer: acceptance, courage, and wisdom.

Courage is the quality of mind or spirit that enables one to face difficulty, danger, or pain without fear. When I think of courage, I tend to think of people who I admire that have overcome great obstacles, went against the grain of the majority of society, people who always spoke their mind without worry of what others would think or do, or stood up for their beliefs even at the most dangerous of times. If you really think about it, the United States was founded by courageous people and continues to develop through the bravery of many who are born here or come here. I also think about a very close friend of mine who came out of a very different upbringing than me but never let that stop her...she constantly shows me what everyday courage and strength looks like through her life, difficulty she faces, moves she makes, tough choices she decides...it's absolutely amazing.

I don't consider myself to be a very courageous person. I am an avid avoider of conflict, I easily cave to the will of others, and I never say "no" or stand up for myself. I've let myself live in the land of self negativity for as long as I can remember...so I'm not even brave enough to change my own personal mindset. I can't make any major life decisions without consulting at least one of my "crew" to get their perspective because I don't trust myself and I'm terrified of making wrong choices. I'm scared of taking risks, being imperfect, or going against the grain.

My fear, my inability to be courageous, has and still is impacting my treatment and recovery from this battle with depression. I've been afraid to be open about how I feel and what I think. I've fought against treatment options because I am too scared of what will happen. I've hidden things from people because I was worried they would be angry, upset, or disappointed in my shortcomings. I've done dangerous things because I have been angry with myself and because the thought of working through this giant mess of a person I am is scary. I'm scared of change, I'm scared of abandonment as a result of the changes I undergo, I'm scared of the thought of my life looking different as a result of treatment.

So how do we find courage? Where does this ability to face what we fear manifest? Can even the weakest of people like me become strong and brave, or are we born with or without courage? Will I be able to face myself and climb out of the darkness? Can I change myself enough to live?

Acceptance (Serenity Prayer, Part 1 of 3)

At the end of each night at my Intensive Outpatient Group Therapy, we say The Serenity Prayer. I'm going to spend some time over the next few weeks writing about the 3 major focal points of the prayer: acceptance, courage, and wisdom.

Acceptance in human psychology is a person's assent to the reality of a situation, recognizing a process or condition without attempting to change or protest it. Essentially it's taking all the shit that life gives us and allowing it to happen...a very hard task for many of us (especially control freaks like me). Sometimes we use various methods to combat acceptance: denial, avoidance, fighting, or suppression. We may think these methods can allow us to prevent or change the situation or experience, the truth is that it is at best just a stall tactic, or in the worst case scenarios it actually makes the end result far worse.

So, what are the things that we have to accept? Sadly, lots more than many of care to do. Basically, anything that isn't directly in our control in the present moment falls into the category of items we must accept. These include:
1) The Past
2) Other People (including their emotions, reactions, and thoughts)
3) The Weather
4) Time
5) Our Emotions & Thoughts (we will cover what we can control regarding this shortly...)

My most recent hospital stay was 8 days, so I had lots of time to think and process through some big stuff, especially over the weekend. Acceptance is a big problem for me, but it's somewhere I really need to start having a better awareness and focus on letting go of all that I realistically cannot control. I can only assume that with acceptance comes a sort of release and feeling of peace...at least that is my hope.

So what do I need to accept? First and foremost, I need to accept that I have a mental illness. I have to learn to realize that this diagnosis is not something I can just ignore, but it's something I also need to actively seek treatment and be mindful of how it impacts me. I also have to accept that people will not always understand, people will sometimes not be willing to tolerate, and that sometimes I will have to just suck it up and deal with myself. I cannot control this, but I can arm myself with ways to "tame the beast within" and take care of myself better. I also cannot just use this mental illness as an excuse for my actions and reactions...I have control over those.

I also have to accept my past: the good, the bad, and the ugly. I can learn from it, I can use it to inform others and help make the future better, but I can't go back and change it. If someone happens to have a DeLorean that is equipped with a flux capacitor, please let me know...but until then, the past simply is the past. We all have regrets at times. We all have said "hind sight's 20-20" at least once. It is important to accept our past though in order to accept ourselves. Our past is part of what makes us who we are, it is part of how we got where we are at this exact moment. To change the past means to also change the present and the future...most of us would probably agree that risk is too great.

Another thing I have to accept is that I have no control over the perception of others. One of my biggest struggles is that I want others to see me in a positive way. I want to be liked, respected, and be seen as someone worthy in the eyes of those around me or in my life. Here's the deal, though: all I can do in reality is be myself and the rest is out of my control. I can't force people to love me.  I can't even force people to somewhat like me. I can't force people to want to spend time with me. I can't force people to select me for awards, jobs, etc. I think that a lot of this desire stems from the fact that I try to seek validation, love, and purpose from external sources (other people) instead of from within myself...it's on my list of things to work on, I promise...

Acceptance is a lot like letting someone else drive your car, ya know? Once you let them into the driver's seat and give them the keys, it's out of your control. At that point all you can do is simply hold on and try to enjoy the ride. Letting go of control is a tough thing to do, but in most of these cases the control we think we hold isn't actually real at all. When we give that up, then, all we are doing is releasing frustration and fear while allowing ourselves a little bit of peace...a small slice of serenity.

Diagnosis Murder

"Hi, my name is Megan and I am here for depression, anxiety, suicidal ideation, and self harm."

Three nights each week I say those words to a group of 3-15 people. Sometimes that is followed up with reading and answering a question "from the fishbowl" or sharing something random like my favorite ice cream flavor with the group. It always amazes me though how easily those words all fall from my mouth, how almost calming and free it makes me feel to share these things with people I only know by their first name, people I only see 3-9 hours each week. Sometimes, though, I feel like these people know me and get me more than anyone else in this world: more than family, friends, coworkers...more than I even know myself.

People are constantly complaining or sharing on social media about the problem with how our society views mental illness. Friends and family are all outraged with the stigmas that come with mental illness, the lack of knowledge or compassion, the inequality of it all. Yet a lot of these same people gave the advice to be silent, to not speak up about my struggle, to lock everything down tight. I was advised to tell my boss nothing after each of my hospitalizations, I was scolded for posting daily affirmations and links about suicide prevention or blog posts I've written because it put my family at risk, I was told that people don't understand or care to hear my whiny stories. Here's the deal, though: how does anything change if we aren't more open about ourselves? Will society just magically become more accepting of mental illness if we all hide our demons in the shadows and only speak of them in hushed tones in the "safe spaces" in our psychiatrist's office (or psychologist, therapist, social worker, PCP, etc...)? We encourage people to share their cancer survival stories, their devastating stories of loss, stories of hope and pride in overcoming other illnesses...why is mental illness any different?

Mental illness knows no limits; anyone can be diagnosed with a mental illness. Mental illness is just that, though: a diagnosis. It's not a label, it's not a defining factor of who we are, it doesn't make anyone a monster...it's just an illness like the flu or cancer. I am a mother, wife, teacher, average middle class American citizen living paycheck to paycheck...and I have been diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. I am married to a man who is just shy of being genius level for his IQ, a man who is gifted, a father, husband, son, computer guru...and he has Bipolar II Disorder. We both are normal, functional, productive, and successful. I've been hospitalized twice for suicidal ideations with a plan, and my husband has been hospitalized once for a major panic attack/breakdown. None of this makes either of us a "danger to society." None of this makes either of us bad people. We just each have illnesses that require medication and care from professionals to keep the illnesses in check.

I had some recent moments of frustration with people telling me that I was putting my family's livelihood in danger by being open about mental illness. I decided to take a break from Facebook, I made this blog private, and I went to just writing in my journal. Here's the deal, though: as a teacher and a person who considers herself a lifelong learner, I think that we should all be open to sharing and learning from each other just as much as from a textbook. I also think that honesty is a very important moral and as humans we owe it to each other to always be open and honest, even when it may not be easy or seem like the best idea. I took the first step in this honesty yesterday by sitting down with my bosses in their office and telling them where I've been for the last 8 days and why I was there. And you know what my bosses said? It wasn't, "Well, you are unfit to be around children...you're fired!"

"Thank you for being honest with us. We are so glad you made the choice to put your life first and get help. We really appreciate you sharing with us. What can we do to help you? Take care of yourself first and foremost because we need you around...the students love you and miss you."

And sure, I could still end up being dismissed at the end of my contract in May, but you know what? At least I was honest with myself and about myself. Mental illness is part of who I am, but it does not define WHO I am. Shouldn't we all be allowed to be comfortable within the skin we're in? I feel like sharing that I have Major Depressive Disorder is just as comparable to me sharing that I'm bisexual: it is just a part of who I am, just like my red hair and blue eyes...it's all part of what makes me, well, me. There's no shame in that: I shouldn't feel ashamed of who I am, I shouldn't have to hide it to make others feel "more comfortable."

I won't be sharing this with my students, but I would love for us to get to a place where we could. We all need to know that we're not alone. We all need to know that it's okay to have struggles. We all need to know that we are all complex but beautiful humans. We all should be allowed the joy of being free and open, the pleasure of being comfortable with ourselves and safe to share ourselves with others. Suffering from depression and anxiety doesn't make me a monster, it doesn't make me dangerous to others or less human. I'm treating my illness with medication and professional care in the forms of both individual and group therapy. I don't love my children, my husband, my friends, my family, my students, my job any less because of this illness: this illness just means that sometimes I don't love myself and sometimes I feel compelled to close off from the world. It means that sometimes I hurt myself because I don't love myself as much as I should...but I'm working on this day by day, one step at a time. I hope that this can help someone else feel comfortable in the skin they are in, I hope this can maybe help some of us feel more open to sharing what we need or feel is important to share. I hope that someday that we as a society can be more accepting of mental illness and more open to discussing it. The best way to prevent some of the horrors of our world is by being willing to talk, share knowledge, and recognize before it reaches critical mass. We have to share, people...we have to be open...we have to start talking about mental illness.