Anxious, depressed, burnt out. This wasn't happening!
But it did…on my honeymoon.
I should’ve been living life blissfully with my husband, but instead I had a heart wrenching decision to make…
I decided that I had to go home. I was devastated.
The thing is, I had been struggling with depression since I was 19 years old. This wasn’t my first taste of what Winston Churchill referred to as “the black dog”.
Nor was this the first time that I had overworked myself, pushing far past my limits and neglecting my physical, mental and emotional health.
When it all started back in university, I was cramming five years of education into four – a BA and MA. Graduating with Honours no less.
Over the same period of time, I was in a psychologically abusive relationship, which had strained my family relations as well.
At 19 years old, I was told that my depression was the result of a “chemical imbalance” in my brain. Plain and simple.
I took the bait, swallowed my prescription meds like a good little girl and continued living the only way I knew how – pushing and neglecting myself to appease my high expectations and to fill the cavernous voids that were opening up within me.
Seventeen years later, at 36 years old, as I returned home from my honeymoon, none of those behaviours had changed and their consequences had only compounded.
Thankfully, life wasn’t all doom and gloom in those 17 years.
My health ebbed and flowed, but what had remained the same were my learned behaviours, fixed mindset, and poor lifestyle choices.
This time, I was diagnosed with a mixed mood disorder – I experienced anxiety and depression at the same time.
I spent my days going from my bed to the couch, watching TV to avoid the constant negative chatter and racing thoughts, but then I flew into irritated rages at the drop of a hat!
I was bursting with anger and sadness.
And I wasn’t sleeping. I needed sleep so desperately, but my overactive mind wouldn’t let me rest. It just further fueled the fire of my downward spiral.
I hid myself away from the world. After all, I didn’t want others to know, ashamed of my weakness. I didn’t want their sympathy nor their help.
As you can see, I have no pictures to share from this time in my life, only a reflection of how I felt.
Although this was a difficult time in my life, my intent isn’t to make you feel sorry for me, but to share my story with others to give them courage in knowing that they’re not alone in their life challenges and struggles.
Also, to give hope that no matter how far away it seems, there is always a light of salvation at the end of the burnout tunnel when you’re ready to reach for it.
That hope is why I’m here today, and this is the point where the plot in my story turns…
Tune in next week for the final chapter of this tale.
Be Bodacious. Be You.
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