In December of 2016, I was down. Like really down. I woke up every morning with butterflies in my chest, my heart in my stomach, and this never-ending cycle of intrusive thoughts running through my mind. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I turn my brain off? Why do I feel like this? I had so many questions, but no matter how much I searched, no matter how much I ruminated, I couldn’t answer them.
Luckily, shortly after this episode began, I got to travel home to Texas for the holiday season. Maybe I just needed a change of pace, a new atmosphere. So I packed my bags and headed home for one of the more relaxing weeks that I have had in a while. However, when it was time to head back to LA, all of those awful feelings from before came rushing back. The moment I landed back in LA, I was in tears — I didn’t want to be back. I just needed to escape for a little while longer.
A week went by, and I found myself a little more chipper; I was making plans, auditioning for soap operas (true story), and excited about what this new year would bring. I felt like that minor, yet dark hiccup that I had in December was long gone, but I thought wrong. It was just getting started.
For the next couple of months, I would cry for hours every single day. I would lose weight. I wouldn’t shower for days on end. I would lay in my bed every morning wondering why my brain was thinking the thoughts it was thinking; why I was feeling the way that I was feeling; wondering how and when I lost myself.
My boyfriend didn’t understand and neither did my mom. The two people I was closest to, felt further away than ever before. And then one day I logged onto Facebook and at the top of my timeline, I saw a status update from one of my best friends talking about her struggle with depression. Depression. D-E-P-R-E-S-S-I-O-N. And suddenly everything clicked.
Nobody wants to be depressed. Nobody likes to talk about depression. It’s a scary monster that so many people struggle with and don’t know how to defeat. That day I reached out to my best friend, and I was finally able to admit that there was something wrong. I was finally able to admit that I needed help.
Depression affects everyone differently and attacks people for no rhyme or reason. On the outside, my life was great and I was finally where I wanted to be. On paper, I was on the up and up. But on the inside, I felt like I had hit rock bottom and didn’t know how I would ever be able to pull myself back up.
I started researching and reading up on mental illness. The more I read, the clearer everything became. I found myself reading my exact thoughts and my feelings over and over and over again on online forums, blogs, and articles. I finally realized that I wasn’t alone.
At the end of February, I decided to start going to therapy. I started talking through my obsessive thoughts and learning about how I process things. I started learning about anxiety, depression, and how to change my course of thinking. I started feeling like myself again.
It’s now been about 6 months since I decided to seek help. Now, don’t get me wrong. I am not 100% better, and I don’t know if I truly ever will be. But this is a part of my journey and I’m still learning. This is all a part of embracing uncertainty.
I want to write about the good & the bad when it comes to my life — I have some extremely amazing, nothing but smiles, sunshine, and rainbows kinds of days, but I also have some days where I look at myself in the mirror trying to figure out who’s staring back at me. I want to speak up about my struggles because for the longest time I thought I was going through this scary journey alone. But the moment I realized that other people were going through similar (and even some exactly the same!) experiences as me, I knew it was my mission to share my story with others in hopes that maybe I could be the realization for someone else.
So today, tomorrow, and every day from here on out, I’m choosing to embrace uncertainty –and I hope that I can inspire you to embrace yours.