Busy

Does knowing your weaknesses make it easier to improve yourself?

 
I’ve known, arguably forever, that I put an exorbitant amount of pressure on myself in all aspects of my life – from school to my personal life, I’ve always felt a need to be the best. In many ways, it’s been the reason behind my success but I can honestly say it’s been my downfall more than once. It’s often impossible for me to keep up with myself.
 
For years, I beat myself up over not doing well enough in this or that. I refused to admit defeat, and don’t even get me started on the process of swallowing my pride and asking for help. My stubborn nature and independence has led me down some slippery slopes, but I think I’m finally figuring out how to keep it together.
 
It took a long time for me to be able to admit to my “crazy”, partially because I felt like it made me a failure. The sense of impending doom that lived in my chest was exhausting and the ups and downs were giving me whiplash. I spent many days feeling like I was stuck – kind of like when I was a kid and I decided to walk in the muck behind my great-grandmother’s, only to lose my boots in the process and need to be rescued. I didn’t like it.

I don’t feel stuck any more.

After weeks of not sleeping, sluggishly dragging my sorry ass to school, struggling to keep my eyes open at work and many tearful phone calls with my Mom I went to the doctor. In spite of my overwhelming desire to deal with my anxiety on my own terms, I just couldn’t do it anymore and waving my little white flag has been the best decision I’ve ever made.
I still get anxious when I’m working towards a deadline or if traffic is heavy and I’m late, but I don’t get anxious about taking the dog outside any more than that’s a wonderful thing. I’m still putting a lot of pressure on myself, piling my proverbial plate so high I can barely see over it but I probably always will.
 

Even armed with the knowledge that I’m often setting myself up for burnout, I jump at the opportunity to get involved with various organizations and squeeze things into my schedule knowing full well I’ll be scrimping on sleep and rushing to get things done. I’m so tired most mornings the bags under my eyes are bigger than my boobs, but I’m sure I’ll slow down someday…

…right after I run the Bluenose 5K with the Autism NS team, organize a breakfast for 400 people, work on the Autism Golf Ball, go to Aqua Zumba every Thursday and squeeze in some time for the boys I love to squeeze. Oh, and get my hair done, paint my nails and walk that thing I call my dog. After I get all of those things done, grab a coffee and pick up some new shoes I’ll slow down.

Not.

Shameless

"Get over it."

How often have we said that to ourselves, our loved ones, our friends? "Put it behind you," or "Don't dwell on it," spoken with love and the best intentions, yet those words often do more harm than good.

It's not that easy, you see. I worry about stupid things, like sleeping in and not making it to an appointment on time, I check to see if I have my apartment and car keys over and over before I shut the doors behind me. I obsess about my weight, and sometimes I feel an overwhelming sense of impending doom. It doesn't make me crazy. It's my anxiety. It's a thing. It has a name, and it's not as easy to "put behind me" as putting one foot in front of the other.

Anxiety. Depression. Mental illness. I live it every day, and it's rarely easy.

After the meltdown back in August, I felt like I was managing just fine but when I couldn't get to sleep at night and couldn't get out of bed in the morning, it got to be a bit of a problem - especially with a 5:20am alarm and things that need doing.  After hiding my "crazy" for so long, it was liberating and terrifying to talk openly about how I'd been feeling. As I opened up to friends and family, I came to realize that I wasn't alone.

When I first wrote about it here, I was afraid of the reaction I might get - I was afraid I'd be defined by my anxiety. Instead, I've been empowered by it and I wish nothing more than for others who feel that impending sense of doom to reach out for help. It's easier to weather the storm when you have an anchor.

I recently made the decision to take antidepressants after a lot of thinking (and a lot of sleepless nights). I was proud of myself for coping naturally, through exercise and by writing but I'm too tired to be the hero right now. I'm sure that there are some who will uphold the stigma of mental illness, and that really sucks for them, and it sucks for those around them. You'd probably be surprised at the number of people who struggle with anxiety and depression - and you may be surprised to learn that you'll probably experience it in your lifetime, though it may not be as pronounced as it is for others.

You wouldn't roll your eyes or doubt someone suffering from arthritis. Mental illness can, and often is, just as crippling.

We don't shame people suffering from cancer, diabetes or multiple sclerosis, so why the Hell are we shaming people with mental illness? It's time to stop.

It's time to be shameless.


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