The Aftermath

For many months after, I seemed fine. I put on a brave face; I smiled; laughed, and went out. I did it all. I did not take time off of work; went to the gym and, saw friends. I was living a perfectly normal life, but making questionable decisions! I would attribute that to finding myself, exploring, and experiencing life. I never thought that perhaps, I needed help.

I can’t lie; I was never a fan of medication or therapy. I thought it was for the weak and for people that simply could not cope with life. I am ashamed that I thought that. I am ashamed that I had preconceived notions about what one could handle. I thought, well if life gives you lemons, you simply roll up your sleeves and make freaking lemonade and deal with it. That was my thought process. Please note that changed and I no longer think this way. I was closed minded and not educated. I had preconceived notions about matters that I knew nothing about. How could I make these judgments, was I a doctor, and or a therapist?! In life, it seems that you only can see correctly when something actually happens to you.

I went on with my life thinking I was doing better than anybody that had lived a similar situation. I saw my family doctor for other issues and often, I would just start crying while explaining to her the last weeks, months of my life. More than once, she said: ‘’I think you are having a breakdown. I think you need to think about therapy and medication. You have been through a lot; it’s ok to ask for help.’’ I would simply say: ‘’no no I am ok, I can cope. I just need to hit the gym more, go out etc.’’ She worried, but never pushed. I even filled out the questionnaires to see if I was depressive. All signs did point to yes, but I still refused to acknowledge it. I can’t say this enough, you need to hit rock bottom in order to get back up.

Months passed and that day finally came, the day where I hit rock bottom. I realized I could no longer cope with my life and that I needed help in order to do so. It was now affecting areas of my life that I thought were doing well, but they were not. I had given in and tried therapy. Worked for a while, but wasn’t for me. I had a great therapist, she was kind and sweet. I actually did enjoy my sessions, but felt it was going nowhere. So I kept going thinking we will see, I tried and it did not work so I must be doing ok. I wasn’t. I was barely keeping my head above water. When that day came, I booked an appointment with my doctor to discuss options. We sat down and discussed all I had done and we both came to the conclusion that I was having a breakdown and that my brain simply could not cope anymore and that it was ok to ask for that extra help. I felt like a failure. I felt like I wasn’t good enough and failed myself in every possible way. I remember her saying that she knew I had tried everything, but it was now time to think about me and my mental health and to get better.

She drew up a plan, and I scheduled bi-weekly follow ups for a little while to monitor my progress. We tried different things and adjusted as needed. Initially, I felt numb, robotic. I felt nothing and oddly, I was happy that way. But that was no way to keep living and experiencing life. That slowly went away and I got better at managing my emotions and started to feel again. The process was long and somewhat of a trial and error type. We eventually found the perfect plan and it did help me tremendously. I did feel ashamed of this for some time, but I don’t anymore. I speak freely about it now. I am no longer ashamed as I realized that my brain needed that extra help, just like any other organ needs when it’s not doing well. My plan was just that, mine. It’s not the same for all; we all need and seek different types of help. I am most grateful for my family doctor. She was there when I needed her guidance and always available after. She was a god sent.

I am not a doctor nor do I know anything medical related, but I do know that it’s important to seek help when something seems off. I waited too long before doing so, and I wish I hadn’t. It’s extremely sad the stigma associated to mental health. The perception is that you are weak, that you no longer can cope with things that ‘normal’ people can. It’s completely untrue and unwarranted. Our brains are wired in a way and sometimes, those wires need a little tune up. Medication, therapy, medication, etc… whatever works for you, do it. You only have 1 you. You only have 1 life. Seek help, speak up and be proud to be courageous enough to know when it’s time to ask for that help. Never be ashamed and never let people tell you that you are not normal.