I’ve been continually starting over at blogging every few months. I don’t know what my deal is, but I’ve really been struggling. I used to love to write once upon a time–when did it become so difficult? I guess maybe it’s a little tough because I know every word I post can and will be judged. The words I write can be associated with me forever. I typically post positive and fun things anyways, but still. It’s always in the back of my mind that one wrong statement might ruin me somehow.
To add to that pressure, I’ve had some personal issues plaguing me for some time. I don’t like to discuss or even think about it too much, but I have found that allowing myself to be more open has only helped me. So how about I lay it all out on the table then?
First, I have anxiety and depression. I believe that I have went undiagnosed for years, but I have recently sought help a few months ago. Not every day is perfect, but I am in a much better place than what I was. It’s weird, you don’t realize how bad off you are sometimes until you start to get better and look back at yourself, and I was NOT in a good place.
Let me say though, anxiety and depression is not just being sad all the time. I am (and have been) legitimately happy a fair amount of the time. But when I experience my bad days…they are TOUGH. I feel overwhelmed, indecisive, stuck. I feel like I’m drowning, when realistically, there is no real reason for it. There’s more to it than that, but that’s the most basic explanation I’ve got for you.
The second part of this confession is that my father is a recovering addict. He’s recently completed a rehab treatment program, and as the cliche goes, we’re taking things ‘one day at a time.’ My relationship with him over the past year or so has been pretty fragile, and every day is different. I cannot believe how hard it is to admit and deal with being a family member of an addict. It’s just…tough. Really, really tough. But if there is anything that all of this has taught me is that no one has to fight these battles alone. Not my dad. Not me. And not you either if you’ve got something going on in your life.
I don’t enjoy being an open book very much–but there it is.
If you are a friend or family member who is finding this out for the first time, I’m sorry I didn’t have the courage to say these things sooner. It does not mean that I don’t love you or trust you or anything like that. My only hope is that you still see me as the same person that I’ve always been–because I am. I am still happy, still the class clown, still the most sarcastic and sometimes inappropriate person you’ll ever meet. I’m still me.
If you want to offer your support, that’s great. If you can relate to me, awesome. Just don’t treat me differently. Don’t look at me like you ran over my dog–you know the look I’m talking about! I’m good–better than I’ve ever been. And I plan on getting even better every day.
Because my daughter deserves a happy mom.
Because my husband deserves a healthy wife.
And most importantly, because I deserve it, damnit.