I'm fine...SAVE ME! The Backstory of The Broken Therapist, Part 2

Have you ever said you were fine but really wasn't?

OF COURSE YOU HAVE!! DUH SIS! 😑

I thought going away to college was going to be my ticket out of these weird ass feelings I was having in high school. I thought maybe because I was from this small town I was being held back from being the social butterfly I dreamed to be. HAHA, I was wrong as hell...WHEW!!! Real talk, I went to college to escape not to get an education.  I hated school, from the first day of Kindergarten. I thought it was for the birds. But that's not the point of this so MOVING ON. 

COLLEGE

When I arrived at college I knew this was an opportunity to start over again, have a new identity, not many people knew me. "Ok girl, you are going to be the cool kid this time around." ANOTHER JOKE. I made quite a few friends. Everything was going as planned, until one day the initial euphoria of being in a new place wore off. I started feeling "down" again. I HATED getting phone calls from home, slept a lot and just sat in the dark in my dorm room eating chips. I gained the infamous "Freshman 15" but apparently I gained someone else's too because I gained 30 pounds in a semester! I was busting at the seams in my arms...like literal stretch marks EVERYWHERE. I had been pretty athletic due to dance growing up so it was weird to gain so much weight so fast. I was asked if I was pregnant...pregnant where?! Nah bruh that's patty melts, french fries, fried chicken, mash potatoes, sweet tea, cookout and chips before AND after dinner. Self esteem was now at a -10,000.

Not only did I rapidly gain weight but my sadness started to take over my school work as well.  I was a biology major and I FAILED A WHOLE ENTIRE CLASS.  I have never failed a class in my life.  I mean I hated school but I was pretty good at it. One day I just stopped going to class.  This is when I started realizing it was hard for me to wake up each day to even try to be great. I stopped caring and I didn't have the support I needed. I think a lot of people thought I was overreacting. I wanted someone to love me and accept me for all of my flaws so I pretty much allowed anyone who paid me attention to come into my space even if it wasn't genuine. My relationships with people became less genuine and at one point I can say I had no feelings. I was using people like they were using me.  I kinda became somewhat mean to mask my true emotions.  In actuality, I was lonely as heck but I couldn't let the outside world know that.

THE SOLUTION

One day while eating lunch on campus, I saw a pamphlet on the table that was an advertisement for counseling services at the school.  It provided a website to take a quiz to see if you needed counseling. When I got back to my dorm room, I went online and took this "quiz" and at the end it told me to seek help immediately because I was showing signs of suicidal thoughts.  Well I never really thought I was suicidal, I thought the big adjustment to being away from home was the real reason I didn't want to exist anymore. Well I could just try it, my mom has been trying to get me to go to therapy since I was 15 but we never followed through with that. 

I made an appointment.  I was so nervous, I didn't want anyone to see me go to my session on campus.  These people are going to think I'm crazy.  I was ducking and dodging everyone on the way there. When I got there I filled out a long questionnaire, it was long like those daggon CVS receipts. By the time I was done I was dead set on this "therapy foolishness" isn't going to work.  I might as well leave.  Right before I get up, the therapist comes to get me. DAMNIT!! 

Therapy was somewhat helpful, it was someone who I could talk to who didn't know anything about me.  Good, I could lie to this woman and she not know the difference. I'M A GENIUS! I was pretty embarrassed about my symptoms and behaviors so this was the best way to keep her from judging me. Bad idea because it didn't work, she saw right through me. She diagnosed me with Depression and writes me a prescription for Prozac.  If you know anything about Prozac it increases suicidal thoughts in teens. FYI I'm a teen and I have been having suicidal thoughts, lady!! So you know where this is going.

MY FINAL DAYS (Well at least I thought)  

I remember it was after Christmas break, I had just returned back from my hometown.  Being home stirred up a lot of old emotions on top of the new ones I had.  I became overwhelmed and wanted to find an out.  I had a bunch of pills and had planned on the exact day I was going to take my life. I wasn't going to tell anyone. No suicide note, nothing.  Someone would just find me in my dorm room and it would be peaceful. No one wanted me around anyway. I tried to act normal around everyone so I wouldn't tip them off, until one day a good friend of mine knew something was off about me. I had planned on taking the pills the next day. He started asking questions and I immediately burst into tears and told him I wanted to die and I was planning on taking pills.  He took the pills from me and flushed them down the toilet with me sobbing uncontrollably standing beside him.  After that day I stopped taking Prozac and never went back to the therapist.  Now I'm not saying medicine and therapy doesn't work but it wasn't the right time for me to experience those at the same time. I most recently started trying to find alternative natural ways to deal with my depression.  Also, you have to be ready to receive therapy and at that time I wasn't. Sometimes a therapist may not be a good fit for you so it's quite alright to "therapist shop". I am forever grateful my friend was there to save me.  Can y'all imagine life without me, the world may have stop spinning lol. Oh, on a final note I immediately switched my major to Psychology because I felt I needed to help others while also helping myself. 

Were you ever embarrassed to say how you truly felt? Have you ever tried therapy or ever thought about trying therapy?  Did it work for you or did you think you weren't ready? What are/were your fears about therapy? 

Join me on Thursdays as I continue to talk about the hard topics we love to avoid.

The Broken Therapist 💞💗

WHO CRIES AT THE HAPPIEST PLACE ON EARTH...ME BRUH! The Backstory of The Broken Therapist

WELL WELL WELL….you made it!! Welcome to my blog, wipe your feet and take a load off.  I will be sharing stories on my struggles with my diagnosis of the good ol’ depression and anxiety. I also want to include some methods I have used to keep symptoms at bay. Most in which I have failed at but dangit I’m going to share them anyway (they just might work for you). Hmm…where do I start? Hell I will just start.

I noticed from a young age I was having some struggles with extreme sadness.  I was the saddest moodiest child I have ever known. I cried about everything and I mean EVERYTHING.  I cried when I went to Disney. Who cries at the happiest place on earth??!!! ME BRUH! But let me be honest, those costumed characters were a little scary, let's argue.  No seriously who was inside of those things.  If I can't see your eyes, I can't trust you.  I was well beyond my years. Anywho…My family would always joke about how afraid I was of everything and how moody I could be.  Eventually I got used to the jokes but deep down inside I knew something wasn’t ticking right. You see I am the only child so I really didn’t grow up around kids, only older adults (mostly my grandma). My mom sheltered me a lot because she didn’t trust that anyone would comb my hair correctly...excuse me MA'AM?!  I mean she did put me in dance classes from the ages of 3-17 so I would be social, so she tried.

I never knew how to express myself because to be quite honest feelings weren’t discussed in my family. FEELINGS?! WHAT ARE THOSEEEEE!!!  I wasn’t hugged a lot or told I was loved often growing up; I mean I was by my grandma but my parents were not affectionate people. This is definitely not any shade towards my parents but let’s be honest they were stone cold with their emotions. I love them to death and know they loved me but they just didn’t know how to express their own feelings (you teach what you know). They are much better now in my adult age since I brought it to their attention but I will discuss that at a later date.

It was becoming a cycle. When I would cry I was told to “suck it up" and that I was "sensitive." So any time I would cry it wasn’t always because I was sad or hurt. I cried mostly because I was afraid to express my feelings or say what I really wanted to without making others mad (I have a sharp tongue).  When I would cry, I would become even more angry because I was so damn mad at myself for crying which made me cry even more…ugh life at 6 was sooooo hard. Through the years I would try to combat my own fears and "suck it up" but I was making matters worse. 

ELEMENTARY SCHOOL

I was bullied in the 3^rd grade and that sat with me for a while.  Heck to this day I think it still affects me deep down. I mean I wasn’t physically assaulted but verbally. I was the new kid because my mom changed my school right when I was getting comfortable at my old school.  I was already a socially awkward kid who played board games by herself and had imaginary friends so this was going to be a social disaster. SMH. I hid in the bathroom for what felt like the majority of the 3^rd grade but the bullying didn’t stop there, it continued into the 4^th grade. I never talked and would just stare at people because I was afraid that anything that came out my mouth would be labeled as stupid.  This is still a fear I have today which is why I joke a lot and act goofy more than serious but we will get to that in another blog post. 

MIDDLE SCHOOL

Middle school was alright, I mean EVERYONE looked like cabbage patch dolls with big heads that didn’t fit their bodies so the bullying wasn’t as bad.  I mean there were a few "mean girls" but that comes with the territory. I was very self-conscious as a middle schooler.  I barely wore shorts, wore shirts that went past my knees and wore not one but 2 jackets on top of each other daily no matter what the season.  According to my mom, I went through the longest tomboy phase in history.  My mom hated it lol. She would buy me the cutest dresses, name brand shoes and clothes and I would go to Walmart to the Boy section and buy a whole outfit with sneakers for $32.67 including tax.

HIGH SCHOOL

Once I got to high school I tried to dress “like a girl.” Whew CHILE!!! I felt so stuffed in my clothes but I hung in there until I went to college. Once I went to college I turned back into looking like a homeless person again but I digress. In high school I started getting stares and unwanted mean comments from girls again.  WHAT AM I DOING TO THESE PEOPLE?!! ALL I DO IS GO TO SCHOOL, MIND MY BUSINESS AND SELL MY POP TARTS FOR $1.  Now my self-esteem was already low from 3^rd grade so it just got lower and people could tell I wasn’t mentally all the way there in high school.  In the 9th grade I sat outside everyday for lunch no matter if a monsoon was scheduled to come through.  My social anxiety had me so paralyzed that I could not even go into the cafeteria to get my lunch and eat.  So everyday I would pretty much sit outside and eat an iced honey bun (I still love those...TILL THIS DAY!)  Each year I slowly but surely inched myself closer to the cafeteria. By the time I was in the 12th grade I had started eating in the cafeteria but I made sure I kept my head down most of the time while getting my lunch. It started becoming a running joke amongst people on how "depressed" I was. I even did my senior project on depression but wasn’t fully aware I was actually exhibiting symptoms of this. It wasn’t until I went to college in 2005 that my symptoms started to really manifest and I felt trapped and wanted to escape my reality. I became suicidal with a plan and the pills…it was time to end it all. 

Thanks for reading my first blog post!  I just wanted to start by giving a little back story on when I started noticing depressive and anxiety symptoms.  This is a journey I knew I needed to embark on and just did not feel comfortable telling my story until now.  Did you notice at a young age that you were experiencing symptoms but not quite understanding why you felt different? Feel free to leave a comment about what you noticed at a young age that may have been labeled as "different."  I want everyone to feel welcomed and comfortable with commenting and leaving their own experiences without fear of judgement. 

Please continue to follow my blog on Thursdays so I can continue telling you about my ongoing journey through these very common diagnoses and how I have tried to combat these symptoms.  Also, I would also like to feature anyone who would like to share their stories (it can be anonymous). If you are interested, please feel free to contact me. 

The Broken Therapist 💞💗