It's been a while since I've posted here. Quite frankly I've been in some very dark spots over the last little bit and my motivation to write has been almost non-existent. I've spent more days crying on the floor and more hours sleeping than I would like to admit. But, for the first time in a very long time, I felt a burst of inspiration. I'm reading "The Gifts of Imperfection" by Brené Brown. I'm currently on a "vulnerability/courage journey" so that I learn to stop hiding and running from my emotions, share those emotions with others, and also learn how to be more present when I am feeling good (I often find myself on edge, waiting for the next "bad" thing to happen to ruin the happiness I have). It's been very eye opening, terrifying, and uplifting. Once again, for the first time in a while, I'm getting new ideas and writing more. I take notes constantly. I also cry a lot still, and throw my own pity parties because I wonder why I am the way I am, but I'm alive and working on myself, which is a really really really good thing.
I spent about a month spending too many hours alone in my apartment isolating myself. I was anxious for purpose and just wanted to feel like my life was in control again (@ my OCD because I re-cleaned and redecorated my apartment so many times to find control it was actually very unhealthy). I feared my mental health would prevent me from ever finding a job and being good at something. It was so hard to leave the house and take care of myself-how would I be able to help others?
With more caution and awareness of myself and what I felt I was capable of handling more long term, I found a new position that was part time, paid much better, and had better hours. I now work as a registered behavior technician and work with kids with autism. I still nanny part time, which I love because those kids brighten my life. My job is hard at times, but I love it and just spending my days working with kids, playing, teaching, and pretending all over again is so fun. I celebrate their successes and enjoy seeing their potential. I come home very tired, and am learning more about self care than ever before. I've talked about it so much in school, but now that I'm actually doing more social work-y stuff, it's been taking on a whole new meaning.
I've found purpose and feel less pressure to have everything perfect in my life. Though my days are spent constantly moving and I spend more time smiling than I have all year, I still have those days that I struggle to get out of bed. I still cry myself to sleep every so often, still wonder when the dark clouds over me will disappear. Once again-and I wish I could tell you why my brain keeps thinking this-, I had this expectation that once I got a job, my mental health issues would just dissipate. I would have everything I needed. I'd be happy and busy working.
Before I delve into my thoughts and share a new idea, here's the update:
I graduated from BYU-Idaho in July. I received my diploma and a copy of my transcript in the mail, which means I can no longer get kicked out of school for violating the Honor Code, and I can literally do whatever I want with my life without worrying about aforementioned Honor Code. There's no more hiding, no more pretending to be anything I'm not. It's quite freeing. Though I ended my time at BYU-Idaho with a scathing review of the last year of my life at this university (basically how if you're straight white cis and an 'active' LDS member it's probably a great school but other than that it's a living Hell :) ) in a student survey for graduating students, I am grateful for the Social Work program, good peers, and some quality roommates over the years. I grew up feeling like an outcast and didn't have any close friends growing up, except for a few at the schools I went to over the years, and other than a degree I love, BYU-Idaho did provide me some of the best friendships I've ever had. From watching hours of Glee and One Tree Hill, and watching movies on sketchy websites (for legal purposes this is a joke) to cutting my hair at 12am, wheezing constantly, and playing Super Smash Bros., some of my greatest memories have taken place in Rexburg. My professors were truly incredible and showed confidence in us as "junior baby social workers" and are some of the greatest men this world has to offer. Along with graduating, I also completed my internship, which I also loved and will forever be grateful for.
Post-graduation has been weird. Of course, I enjoy the freedom, but my mental health has been suffering for months now (thanks 2020), and the idea of being on my own more has been terrifying. I've made a lot of massive changes in my life since January (moving to UT, coming out, moving to my own apartment, graduating, etc.,) and my anxiety levels have been rising at an exponential rate. There was a lot I felt I had to take on once I got my degree. I had accepted a job offer back in March to be a Youth Mentor at a residential treatment center for girls who have severe mental health struggles. At the time I was excited for this job (despite the mediocre pay and kind of terrible work hours), because I am passionate about mental health and felt good about having something secured right out of college (I'd literally have less than a week off before I finished school and started this job). The closer the time came for me to start, the more panic attacks I started having. I worried about trying to help these young girls when I felt I could barely help myself. Of course, I would be able to really sympathize/empathize with them, but at the same time, I was worried about being triggered. I am still in recovery from an eating disorder, I have struggled with all motivation to keep going in the last 6 months, and my whole life just felt like an absolute train wreck. The work hours stressed me out because I would be working late nights and weekends. There was just a lot going on and I felt overwhelmed. I talked to my therapist about it, and cried on the phone to my parents about being utterly lost and regretting all my life choices.
I graduated from BYU-Idaho in July. I received my diploma and a copy of my transcript in the mail, which means I can no longer get kicked out of school for violating the Honor Code, and I can literally do whatever I want with my life without worrying about aforementioned Honor Code. There's no more hiding, no more pretending to be anything I'm not. It's quite freeing. Though I ended my time at BYU-Idaho with a scathing review of the last year of my life at this university (basically how if you're straight white cis and an 'active' LDS member it's probably a great school but other than that it's a living Hell :) ) in a student survey for graduating students, I am grateful for the Social Work program, good peers, and some quality roommates over the years. I grew up feeling like an outcast and didn't have any close friends growing up, except for a few at the schools I went to over the years, and other than a degree I love, BYU-Idaho did provide me some of the best friendships I've ever had. From watching hours of Glee and One Tree Hill, and watching movies on sketchy websites (for legal purposes this is a joke) to cutting my hair at 12am, wheezing constantly, and playing Super Smash Bros., some of my greatest memories have taken place in Rexburg. My professors were truly incredible and showed confidence in us as "junior baby social workers" and are some of the greatest men this world has to offer. Along with graduating, I also completed my internship, which I also loved and will forever be grateful for.
Post-graduation has been weird. Of course, I enjoy the freedom, but my mental health has been suffering for months now (thanks 2020), and the idea of being on my own more has been terrifying. I've made a lot of massive changes in my life since January (moving to UT, coming out, moving to my own apartment, graduating, etc.,) and my anxiety levels have been rising at an exponential rate. There was a lot I felt I had to take on once I got my degree. I had accepted a job offer back in March to be a Youth Mentor at a residential treatment center for girls who have severe mental health struggles. At the time I was excited for this job (despite the mediocre pay and kind of terrible work hours), because I am passionate about mental health and felt good about having something secured right out of college (I'd literally have less than a week off before I finished school and started this job). The closer the time came for me to start, the more panic attacks I started having. I worried about trying to help these young girls when I felt I could barely help myself. Of course, I would be able to really sympathize/empathize with them, but at the same time, I was worried about being triggered. I am still in recovery from an eating disorder, I have struggled with all motivation to keep going in the last 6 months, and my whole life just felt like an absolute train wreck. The work hours stressed me out because I would be working late nights and weekends. There was just a lot going on and I felt overwhelmed. I talked to my therapist about it, and cried on the phone to my parents about being utterly lost and regretting all my life choices.
When I say my parents are the greatest people on this f-ing planet, I truly mean it. These people were like, "Maggie, just tell the job it's not going to work. You found another opportunity. Have fun. Make mistakes. Learn from this experience. Finding something that won't give you panic attacks." Basically. So, I did just that. I started the job search again with support from my parents, who assured me they wouldn't let me be homeless and that I wasn't a terrible person for not taking this job I had agreed to back in March.
I spent about a month spending too many hours alone in my apartment isolating myself. I was anxious for purpose and just wanted to feel like my life was in control again (@ my OCD because I re-cleaned and redecorated my apartment so many times to find control it was actually very unhealthy). I feared my mental health would prevent me from ever finding a job and being good at something. It was so hard to leave the house and take care of myself-how would I be able to help others?
With more caution and awareness of myself and what I felt I was capable of handling more long term, I found a new position that was part time, paid much better, and had better hours. I now work as a registered behavior technician and work with kids with autism. I still nanny part time, which I love because those kids brighten my life. My job is hard at times, but I love it and just spending my days working with kids, playing, teaching, and pretending all over again is so fun. I celebrate their successes and enjoy seeing their potential. I come home very tired, and am learning more about self care than ever before. I've talked about it so much in school, but now that I'm actually doing more social work-y stuff, it's been taking on a whole new meaning.
I've found purpose and feel less pressure to have everything perfect in my life. Though my days are spent constantly moving and I spend more time smiling than I have all year, I still have those days that I struggle to get out of bed. I still cry myself to sleep every so often, still wonder when the dark clouds over me will disappear. Once again-and I wish I could tell you why my brain keeps thinking this-, I had this expectation that once I got a job, my mental health issues would just dissipate. I would have everything I needed. I'd be happy and busy working.
Like I said, my therapist and I have been focusing on truly allowing myself to feel and being more open in my relationships (being vulnerable), and that just because I do have the things I need, doesn't mean my life is perfect, and that I can't be sad. I have a mental illness that isn't just going to disappear. I try to make it go- when I feel negative thoughts coming I tell myself, "I don't have time for that." I push them away and just keep moving. I always think emotion is the enemy. Anything else but happiness is the villain. People like happy, so I try to be happy. One day I'll just explode. That's why on those days I feel incredibly dark, I try to acknowledge it, and then let it be.
The other day I felt a sadness within me, a feeling of heaviness that followed me around wherever I went. I acknowledged that feeling, tried not to judge it as bad or unproductive, or whatever other labels I give my "negative" emotions, and just let myself feel. I read "The Gifts of Imperfection", laid down with Chloe, went for a drive, and reminded myself it would pass in time, that I wasn't weak, and it was okay.
I've been doing a lot of healing. It's exhausting. Because I push so many things away unless I find it helpful/convenient to my life/aspirations/goals/situation, I haven't taken much time to really reflect on how the last year and a half has changed and affected me (for better and worse). I'm processing a lot of stuff and I feel a gradual change happening inside me. Who knew allowing yourself to feel and emote was actually a good thing? (That was sarcasm. Pls don't come at me.) My therapist keeps telling me that emotions aren't bad and when I start to make jokes about how uncomfy I am being vulnerable and showing my/allowing feelings she goes, "You know you're making your life harder, right?" Every session I go, "Logically, I get exactly what you're saying, but my brain has some issues so emotionally I don't like what you're telling me. I've made it this far in life anyway by pushing everything away." I'm a real treat to have as a client.
I've had this realization that this round of therapy feels more difficult than when I was in Rexburg. I was working primarily on my eating disorder and later, my diagnosis of OCD. Without having another word to explain what that felt like, therapy and the skills I was learning then felt more concrete. Like, eat three meals a day and 2 snacks, then track it in our app. Or, have your roommates move stuff in your closet. With my depression it's like, "OPEN UP", and I'm like, "How? I literally cannot." I might seem pretty vulnerable because I post on this blog and my Instagram, but also, I very much struggle with being honest with myself about how I actually feel, and that translates into a lot of aspects of relationships I have. It's also very easy to hide behind a screen. I can upload something and be done with it. I definitely have a tendency to be like, "I felt that emotion today and worked through it, that's enough for like, the rest of my life because that was exhausting." I slip back into my old habits of self-deprecating humor and believing ignorance truly is bliss. My therapist will not let me get away with any of it and so we are working on creating consistency.
Anyway, there's a lot going on right now. I'm trying to take it one day at a time. So many people think I have my life together but I'm like, jokes. I have so many problems. The conversations always go something like this:
The other day I felt a sadness within me, a feeling of heaviness that followed me around wherever I went. I acknowledged that feeling, tried not to judge it as bad or unproductive, or whatever other labels I give my "negative" emotions, and just let myself feel. I read "The Gifts of Imperfection", laid down with Chloe, went for a drive, and reminded myself it would pass in time, that I wasn't weak, and it was okay.
I've been doing a lot of healing. It's exhausting. Because I push so many things away unless I find it helpful/convenient to my life/aspirations/goals/situation, I haven't taken much time to really reflect on how the last year and a half has changed and affected me (for better and worse). I'm processing a lot of stuff and I feel a gradual change happening inside me. Who knew allowing yourself to feel and emote was actually a good thing? (That was sarcasm. Pls don't come at me.) My therapist keeps telling me that emotions aren't bad and when I start to make jokes about how uncomfy I am being vulnerable and showing my/allowing feelings she goes, "You know you're making your life harder, right?" Every session I go, "Logically, I get exactly what you're saying, but my brain has some issues so emotionally I don't like what you're telling me. I've made it this far in life anyway by pushing everything away." I'm a real treat to have as a client.
I've had this realization that this round of therapy feels more difficult than when I was in Rexburg. I was working primarily on my eating disorder and later, my diagnosis of OCD. Without having another word to explain what that felt like, therapy and the skills I was learning then felt more concrete. Like, eat three meals a day and 2 snacks, then track it in our app. Or, have your roommates move stuff in your closet. With my depression it's like, "OPEN UP", and I'm like, "How? I literally cannot." I might seem pretty vulnerable because I post on this blog and my Instagram, but also, I very much struggle with being honest with myself about how I actually feel, and that translates into a lot of aspects of relationships I have. It's also very easy to hide behind a screen. I can upload something and be done with it. I definitely have a tendency to be like, "I felt that emotion today and worked through it, that's enough for like, the rest of my life because that was exhausting." I slip back into my old habits of self-deprecating humor and believing ignorance truly is bliss. My therapist will not let me get away with any of it and so we are working on creating consistency.
Anyway, there's a lot going on right now. I'm trying to take it one day at a time. So many people think I have my life together but I'm like, jokes. I have so many problems. The conversations always go something like this:
Kind Individual: "How are you?"
Me: "Oh, I'm really great! Just working in a job I love, don't have homework anymore. Life is so good." *Screams internally.*
The idea of being a burden also kills me. I'm so used to being a strong, stubborn, push-through-it-all type of person. Unfortunately, the social worker in me is the one who helps, but rarely asks for help, because that would mean I have to show my vulnerabilities. Brené Brown has taught me how connection needs energy from both sides, and grows stronger when we "recognize our shared humanity." I seriously love her and this book, but she's attack me from all sides. It's exciting though (don't get me wrong, it's also definitely daunting), to see that I can change, and that vulnerability is strength. So, I'm working hard, finding the courage in each day to face all of my emotions, thoughts, and feelings as best as I can. I get credit for trying. I'm seeing a psychiatrist now and at the end of our session this past week she told me that every inch in the right direction is a success. I was very emotional that day and I almost cried in her office, because it was a great reminder that everything counts. I have honestly hated my life so much for the last few months. I've been miserable. It's been hard to admit, even to my therapist who is literally there to help me and give zero judgement, but even being willing to take this journey is a step forward. And even when I find it hard to be vulnerable (like when friends ask how I am and I respond that I'm "great"), I'm still trying, I haven't failed.
I swear this year's theme was more applicable than I could've possibly imagined when I wrote my first post of 2020. It's also a lot more exhausting and challenging than I thought, but how could I ever grow without it? (Side note: I can thank the good Lord for my trials and be like *growth, yay* but still think it all sucks, because it does sometimes. Or a lot of the times.)
Anyway, I'm sure this is a lot more than you've asked for, but thanks for sticking with me. I have one last thing to update y'all on, and then we can go forward and hopefully take this message with us into the rest of our day.
Because I've been M.I.A on social media (for the most part), I decided to start something new and bring something old back. At the end of last year I started doing weekly gratitude posts on Sunday. I want to get back into that, 1.) because my friend Depression lacks all gratitude (I find myself wishing I had never left MA or my parents way too much and I'm not a fan of it), and 2.) I want to be more active on my blog again. Along with that, I'll be starting a new installment called... something more creative than "Courageous Wednesdays," but that's all my brain can think of right now. In hopes to be an uplifting mid-week post, I want to share what courage is. In reading Brené Brown's "The Gifts of Imperfection" for therapy, I've started learning a lot about courage and vulnerability, and, as we're already in month NINE, of 2020, for this year's theme of "Courage" I want to really instill this idea in myself and you, my dear reader.
We'll see how it goes, but I'm ready to try. And I hope you are too as you follow along my journey, and hopefully start your own.
Much love and as always, thank you for reading!
---Maggie
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