Tag: mentalhealthadvocate

The 5 Best Ways to Support Friends with Mental Illness

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At a recent therapy session I was asked, “Who do you have in your corner? Who can you count on to always support you?” I was overwhelmed by this question. There’s a lot of names that come to my mind: family, friends, and coworkers. Knowing that having a dedicated support system is something that some in my shoes do not, I was able to easily name people who I know will always be there. The people in my life do quite a bit to be allies in my mental health journey. There are a couple of ways my friends have supported me and my mental illness that I aim to do with all my relationships!

Ways to Support Your Friends with Mental Illness

Everyone’s mental illness and mental health needs are different. First off, this is not a one size fits all. I’m also NOT a mental health professional, doctor, or therapist. There’s nothing about this blog that is medical advice – only sharing what has been a huge benefit in my own life!

Number 1: Communicate!

The darkest part of my mental health journey was accompanied with pushing away those I loved most. I felt like a burden on their happiness because I wasn’t happy. One thing that really benefitted me was my best friends always communicating with me, even when it was really hard. I credit my friend, Taylor, for saving my life because when I stopped communicating she continued asking questions, encouraging me, and reaching out to my parents when things got scary.

It can be really hard to verbalize all the things going on in your mind when you’re struggling. However, knowing that you have someone who won’t hate or judge can be an actual lifesaver.

Number 2: Normalize Conversations about Mental Health!

Half of American adults with major depressive disorder will go without treatment this year. We have a serious lack of mental health resources in this country. Those that we do have tend to be pricey and not realistic for the average American. People also avoid getting treatment because of the stigmas that surround all mental illnesses. Emotional and mental health are just as important as physical health. No one is embarrassed to talk about their broken arm; we have to approach mental illness in the same way!

If one of your friends is having a hard time coping with a diagnosis or difficult mental health period, normalize the convo! Being candid about your own mentality (even if you don’t suffer from mental illness) can open the floor for conversation. Also, when people know that their support system does occasional “mental health checks” they are much more likely to reach out in a time of emergency or serious need!

Number 3: Be Patient!

This blog, or millions of blogs, will not be enough to truly say how lucky I am with my support system. One thing I can never repay is the amount of patience that those around me have given in my rough times. Sometimes, those struggling can be the hardest to love. We’re angry, sad, happy, excited, depressed, numb, and every emotion in between. It’s hard to keep up with it all.

Roomie is a huge supporter of my mental health! Who’s yours?

Friends might flake, drop the ball, and be ugly towards you because of how they feel about themselves. I can confidently say it’s nothing to do with you. One of the hardest things you’ll ever do is continuing to invite, communicate, and encourage someone who is not reciprocating or acknowledging your time. It does, however, make a huge difference to those suffering so DON’T feel like it’s for nothing!

Number 4: Know Your Limits!

All of number 3 being said, you need to know your limits when it comes to other’s mental health and your own. Unless you’re a parent or guardian of a child, you’re never responsible for another human’s well-being. You, my friend, always need to make sure you’re healthy first!

In the past, I’ve had a serious problem with trying to take a lot of others’ mental health problems on my plate in order to avoid my own issues. If being an advocate for another’s mental health is causing you to go to a bad place, PLEASE STOP! You don’t do anyone any good when you’re also hurting.

Number 5: REPORT WHEN NECESSARY!

Again, I’m absolutely not a professional here… but when I say sometimes you need to report, I’ve never been more serious. Having friends who aide in your mental health journey can be a huge advantage, but it’s NOT a fix all. Everyone’s struggle is different. Personally, I’ve needed professional help, medicine, and my loved ones’ support to get through some of the hardest times in my depression and anxiety.

It took my friend “reporting” to really confirm to my parents that I needed professional help. Don’t be afraid to let someone know what’s going on in case of an emergency – it might cause tension at first, but it could save a life!

Thoughts? Story to share? Connect with me on my socials below!

Why I Wear My Mask

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** This post may contain affiliate links, which means I may receive a small commission, at no cost to you, if you make a purchase through one of the links! **

I live in a place where not everyone is sold on masks. It’s not like New York City where people want to wear masks because nearly everyone has either had this virus or seen a loved one have it. I live in Wisconsin where open farmland stretches between every big city. There’s a lot more space and less people so the case numbers don’t look so bad on paper. You’d think that it would only push people to wear masks in the bigger cities…nope. I guess I never really had to think about why I wear my mask.

People DON’T Wear Masks?

I’m not going to trash Wisconsin too much in this post. There’s too many die-hard Badgers on all of my social media feeds. Also, it’s still the place that I call home. Milwaukee and Madison make up a huge percentage of the State’s population which tend to be very liberal parts of the state. Smaller counties tend to be more conservative with far less people. There’s obvious outliers like cities with big universities or one’s that are closer to the Illinois border, but you generally see those liberal vs. conservative trends throughout the state. Living in two fairly liberal counties for all my life, I always thought that Wisconsin was split. Then, I started to go up north.

After we all took COVID tests, self-quarantined, and bought enough hand sanitizer to fill a bathtub, my friends and I went to an AirBNB in Somerset, Wisconsin. It’s a tiny little town near the Minnesota border. I would definitely consider it “up north” even if my friends would laugh at me. 

The most outrageous P. Diddy party that you’ve ever seen. We know. But, we got swabs up our nose for this so cut us some slack.

While I’ve been buying disposable masks for my car and researching where to buy good hand sanitizer, I would bet money that half the residents of these small towns didn’t even think to buy one yet. In small town Wisconsin, the threat of a pandemic truly hadn’t brought stress to their everyday lives – not because they couldn’t see it on their TV or weren’t worried about their families, but because they hadn’t necessarily seen it with their own eyes yet.

Why DO We Wear Masks?

As humans, empathy can be hard. We have to watch our role models care about things that might not directly be affecting them. We feel sad when mommy cries even if we have no idea what’s going on. As we grow up, we’re really angry that our friend got bullied on the playground, even if it wasn’t us. We learn that the actions toward others and of others can affect us. Enter global pandemic and perfect opportunity for us to show our empathetic sides!

My sweet friends, Megan and Nathan, have put masks on their children since March. Their kids are a whopping 2 years old and 3 years old (he would tell you he’s about to be 4 and he wants an ankylosaurus for his birthday). They know that taking their children into public places, like a quick Target run, does not guarantee anyone in their house safety. They know that the little piece of fabric covering their child’s face doesn’t protect against everything. They’ve taught their children, however, that masks are what superheroes wear to keep everyone else safe.

Photo credit: Nicodemas Nimmo

They know that they have to wear their masks to keep others safe. So, those little babes and my sweet friends teaching them empathy are why I wear my mask. Because if toddlers can wear masks for a grocery run to keep other people safe, my grown 23-year old ass can.

I Wear My Mask Because…

I wear my mask to keep people like my grandma safe. That little lady has spent the better part of 5 months in her house with only a couple adventures to the outside world. As someone who is extremely high risk, my grandma and other people’s grandparents are braving it to get their errands done. I wear my mask to do whatever possible to keep them safe!

I wear my mask for my amazing hair dresser. I’ve been seeing her for years. Even if I wasn’t picketing with signs about it, my roots were looking pretty rough in quarantine. I’ve done enough hair treatments to sing “Beauty School Dropout” as my theme song. Truthfully, I will be adding those Shea moisture products (here are the ones I use) as a source of amazing self care long after COVID, but a girl needs some stylist attention too! Her business and clients are a livelihood that she depends on for financial security and her own sanity. I wear my mask to keep her safe so that she can snuggle her grandkids on the days she has off. If I want to enjoy the luxury that is going to get my hair done, I can prioritize health in that process.

I wear a mask for my immunocompromised friends who’ve already had a hard go at life. I’ve watched some take their blood sugar before we go out and give themselves insulin. Some have lost a ton of muscle mass just trying to figure out what they could eat. Others can’t even go a week without having a fever. I wear a mask for my friends with asthma, allergies, and colds. Those who normally feel fine but wouldn’t be okay I exposed them to something.

I Wear My Mask Because I’m a Superhero

At the end of the day, I wear a mask for me. I wear a mask because it sends the message that I want to send out into the world. It says that I care about others – that I’m empathetic to their health, well-being, and lives. It shows that I will do what’s in my power to end this weird period of pandemic. I wear a mask to set an example that it’s the “cool” thing to do even though I’m surprised it’s a discussion. I wear a mask because I’m a superhero and they always help others.

Why do you wear YOUR mask? Tell me using the links to any of the socials below! I want to hear your story!

How A Celebrity Can Change Your Mental Health Journey

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I met Demi Lovato in 2014. This is not a story of me magically running into her in the bathroom of my favorite restaurant. I bought tickets to her show. I bought the Meet & Greet package. But, I met her.  A celebrity changed my mental health journey.

** TW: Substance abuse, self harm, suicidal thoughts **

My life was at its absolute worst when I was a Junior in high school. My mental health was undiagnosed and running rampant. I was smart enough to get good grades in school but had become completely apathetic of actually learning or retaining anything. Being civil, I was able to hold it together but I pushed away those closest to me with a sharp tongue. I turned to hurting myself to feel anything at all.

If you’ve never been through this kind of low, it’s really hard to understand. If you’ve never felt the jagged rocks of “rock bottom” in your back as you stared blankly at your bedroom ceiling, this might be hard to wrap your head around. Honestly, I wouldn’t wish this feeling – or lack thereof – on my worst enemy.

My friend, Ross, had already met Demi before. I clung to him that year as one of my only sources of sanity. There was something about his overwhelming obsession with her that I didn’t really understand. Then, I really listened. Instead of staring at my ceiling in my dark bedroom in silence, I did it to the tune of “Skyscraper” coming off of my iPhone. I listened to her pain – something that I could understand. The triumphs in her lyrics faintly reminded me of moments before the depression got so bad. I actually listened to the music.

Ross and I in the second row at my first Demi Lovato concert. I only cried three times!!!

To me, Demi wasn’t a Disney-star-gone-rogue. She was talented and misunderstood. She was forced into a box for so long that she simply couldn’t take anymore – which is exactly how I was starting to feel. As I got diagnosed with new mental illnesses, I felt more and more like a freak show. Suddenly, I went from the blonde, preppy girl who was in everything to the depressed, anxious girl who was constantly absent. I was meant to fit in a box that my undiagnosed mental illness wasn’t allowing me to and the promise of an absolute shit show was looming.

Her honesty about addiction and drug use was something that I found really admirable. Her ability to speak about addiction in young people was something I didn’t even realize was a problem until my college years. By then, I had been following her for so long I saw the red flags a little more clearly. Most of all, I related to her because she wasn’t a Barbie. She was human – flawed, vulnerable, and damaged. Yet, someone that people could look up to. Something that I hoped I could be one day with my mental health.

“Now, I’m a Warrior”

I don’t know if I would have started talking about my mental health if it wasn’t for Demi’s story. More specifically, for the music. I started to pay attention to my drives to school. The actual words on the songs playing out of the speakers in my Chevy Malibu. On the DEMI album, there’s a song called “Warrior” which is my absolute favorite song to this day. So, if you ever need to answer trivia about me, there you go. It truly is about her coming to terms with a story that’s never been made public. That story finally makes her feel like a survivor; a warrior.

Even if I didn’t feel it at that moment, I knew that my mental health was something that I could handle. It was something that would change me forever and it didn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing. I knew that this was just another chapter in the story of my life that I would tell someday to my kids, my friends, or really anyone that would listen. Somewhere inside of me, I felt comfort in the words that Demi sang. Maybe our hardest moments really are there to bring out the warrior within us.

Demi’s influence on love & relationships

Now, six years later, there are still moments where you can see the place I “wear my battle scars” of depression as the song says. My partners have seen me be “ashamed and confused” of the person I was for a long time. 

Demi went through a couple relationships that always looked like love. To me, it gave me hope that someone could love me even if my brain didn’t produce enough serotonin. Demi had breakups, just like me. She sang about them in ways I didn’t think I needed, but I did. She empathized with me in loving someone we no longer had. Ripped my heart out in ballads just aching for them. But, she ultimately reminded me that I didn’t need anyone. I was a baddie just being me. Just like I was still a warrior from all those years ago.

Demi just got engaged. It was kind of like my best friend from kindergarten got engaged. You know the feeling, right? You haven’t seen them in a really long time. They’re not a huge influence on your daily life. But, at one point, they were all you had. In that moment, I was reminded that mental illness, addiction, self harm, and negative body image doesn’t make you less lovable.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CC-S49WhMDR/

The person that I had looked up to as a positive light for all those things had pushed through to find love, but what if she never really pushed through? What if part of our journey to happiness, acceptance, and healing is finding someone who jumps on that mental health rollercoaster with us? What if true love is finding someone to squeeze our hand when our stomach drops? Not make you get off and hold you, but just squeeze your hand. What if true love is someone that will scream at the top of their lungs alongside us at the very top? Not someone who just takes pics for the IG? Demi reminded me that mental illness doesn’t mean you’re half. It means that you have to look a little bit harder to find all the parts of your whole.

STILL, I’m a Warrior

At the end of the day, though, I do feel like a warrior. I know that I’ve survived every single hard day that life has thrown at me. I know that having a mental illness might absolutely suck some days. There will be temporary people who don’t understand. Mean words are going to be flung my way. Never again, though, will I try to fit into a box and deny who I am. 

I have severe clinical depression. I can say I have generalized anxiety. Sometimes, my severe social anxiety is noticeable. I suffer from panic disorder. I take medicine. But, I am me. I am a warrior. Demi was the first person I saw that made it cool to NOT be okay. Her music was the way that I understood the rollercoaster of the struggle and that I’m not the only one riding it.

Have you had a celebrity that changed your life? Tell me about them in any of my DMs below – I want to hear your story!

My Therapist Left

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We tend to forget that therapists, counsellors, and psychiatrists are humans just like us. They have families and responsibilities outside their jobs. They have bills to pay, children to watch, and relationships to foster just like the rest of us. We see them as guides through really tough times in our life. Sometimes, they’re the only voice that can speak to us while we’re drowning. It’s natural that they seem almost untouchable; above our everyday problems. Still, they have them. Sometimes, you might find yourself in my boat: my therapist left.

Clearly, I don’t have any photos with my therapist…. but, this is right around the time that I started seeing her in 2016! Lipstick is killing it. Mental health? Not so much.

The best thing in the world is meeting and working with someone that you click with. The therapist that I’ve had for the last few years has been that. Where others have been quick to prescribe meds, she knew that I always wanted to try another route first. She knew that I was unbelievably analytical, so self-diagnosis was a serious problem if I let myself go too long without seeing her. Lastly, she knew that I was stubborn. I would go to my dying day saying that I was fine. If I had to handle school, work, and stress while dealing with a severe mental illness, I would without help. But, I would do so until I absolutely broke down. 

The Realities of Having a Therapist

Finding the right therapist can be difficult. It’s like a blind date. You’re not really sure how you’re going to click with this person. However, you’re expected to unload a lot of intimate thoughts onto them. I’ve definitely done an intake with someone who I totally did not click with and requested a new therapist.

Sometimes, the therapist you’ve heard amazing things about isn’t taking new clients. You have to wait for a referral from someone that’s higher up the food chain. In the hospitals, where these therapists are more accessible and insurance carriers are more likely to cover it, the faster therapists fill up. Can we all just agree that we need more mental health resources at LOWER COSTS?!

Once you find someone that clicks, you kind of cling to them like a weird stuffed animal. You get attached pretty fast. They become part of your family, but like an objective part that will tell you that you’re being irrational. You know? It’s all part of the realities of having a therapist and being a client. 

My Therapist Left

Another harsh reality is that your therapist might move! As I said before, these people are human beings with families, lives, and responsibilities that exist outside of their offices. In my experience, therapists that have moved practices or from one state to another have done so with ample notice to their patients. Obviously, I’ve been blessed with finding a great couple of providers, but I’ve never called to make an appointment to find out they’ve vanished. Usually, when they leave, they’ll refer you to another therapist that they think will work for you. You get the final say, of course. They give you time to see them and make those arrangements.

All of that being said, however, doesn’t make that loss any easier. Being understanding about the fact that my therapist had children and a life outside, doesn’t invalidate that that is a loss in my life! A therapist is someone that you share intimate thoughts and traumas with and you are allowed to feel a sense of loss – they know that which is why they try to make the transition as easy as possible!

Truthfully, it’s not something that is a “typical” occurrence by any means. You’re more likely to move to a new place or need to switch providers far before you’d ever deal with a therapist moving, but it does happen. When it does, we need to know that it’s okay to feel that loss, feel it all, and reach out for help during that transition.

The Takeaway

Here’s me without a therapist! A LOT of healing has happened since the first photo. As with any human, I still have more to heal, more to work on, and growth to make in this life of mine! Therapy ROCKS because we make it rock, not just because of our therapists…. even if they rock too 😉

Most recently, I called my nurse practitioner about some more guidance in choosing who to schedule my next appointment with. Something that I thought was totally in my own hands was made very comfortable by having a professional walk me through my file and talk to me about therapy I preferred! A quick telephone call can save you hours of scouring the Internet looking for a name to jump out at you, when you might not really know what you’re looking for! There’s NOTHING wrong with asking for help in times of these weird transitions – in fact, everyone involved wants you to! 

So yes, my therapist left a couple months ago. She absolutely rocked. I’m going to miss meeting with her. The relationship that I had with her was so beneficial for me in some of the darkest times of my life. At the end of the day, I’m allowed to miss her! But, I know that there’s therapists that are smart, able, and willing to accompany me in my mental health journey just as she was all those years ago!

If you’re having trouble finding a therapist, getting yourself involved, or just want to talk about other options/my experience with therapy, PLEASE get in my DMs below! I want to chat!

A Look Into a Depressive Episode

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For the most part, I’m okay. I haven’t always been able to say that. I mean, for most of my formative years I would grumble, “I’m fine.” Everyone around me knew that was a lie, but I thought I was pulling it off decently. It wasn’t until I  found myself in writing that I felt comfortable sharing that maybe I wasn’t okay. At that time, I needed help and I needed it fast.

I wrote a blog at the beginning of Mental Health Awareness Month about the guilt associated with my  happiness as a vocal advocate for the mental health community. In that blog, I talked about how I have mostly considered myself to be in the recovery part of my mental health journey. The bad days don’t come as often as they used to. When they do, I’m usually equipped to handle them in a healthy way.

You already KNOW that I’m all about habits and habit tracking. I make my bed everyday and try to keep my environment clean….unless I’m in a depressive episode.

That doesn’t, however, mean that I’m cured. I absolutely love to hear success stories of patients who struggle for a bit, go through some intense therapy, and move on with their life leaving depression in the past. I absolutely believe it’s possible. Everyone’s mental health looks so different. What might need temporary help for one person might require lifelong care for another.

Personally, I feel great. I feel healthier and happier than I ever have. The group of friends that I have are ones that I would call my “forever friends.” The things that I’m doing and planning right now are setting me up for my life, rather than just for next month or next year. I’m genuinely recovering. However, I still have my depression and I still take medication.

Like every human on the face of the Earth, I have bad days. Like every person who’s ever gone through a treatment or recovery, I have moments of weakness. You put being a human together with the natural rollercoaster that is “getting better” and VIOLA! You’ve got some perfect storms brewing!

My depressive episodes are nothing like what they were at 16. Even though I occasionally get sassy with my family (Sorry, guys), they’re mostly full of tears and isolation. Here’s an example: During a depressive episode, I won’t change my clothes for  3 days. I’ll sit and cry over seemingly small things, do everything in my power to stay in my bed, and lash out when someone tries to motivate me. Then, I’ll start feeling bad for not working out, showing up for the business, or blowing my friends off and I’ll cry some more. I eat as many carbs as I can find, which I subsequently will beat myself up for later. All of this is separated by about 4 two-hour naps throughout the day to aid my emotional exhaustion.

The aftermath of a few days of depressive episode. Honestly, this is pretty tame compared to other times. I removed the Taco Bell wrappers pre-photoshoot 😉

I don’t want you to pity me. I want you to look at this situation for what it is: reality. To be honest, my episodes are pretty mild compared to those who suffer from bipolar disorder or those who haven’t had any sort of mental health treatment. Episodes look different on everyone, but I can promise with 100% certainty that they’re never glorious

I’m lucky. My family and friends are loving enough for me to approach and explain how I’m feeling to them. We openly talk about mental health a lot. But, being able to explicitly say, “I’m not okay and need some time,” is never easy! If you’re years into this battle or just starting off, speaking the fact that you’re having a little bit of a breakdown into verbal existence can be extremely difficult. But, it can also lead to much easier communication down the road. You don’t owe anyone an in-depth look at your psyche, but simply saying that you need time and space is neither selfish nor rude.

I’ve been hesitant to share my breakdowns on social media. I’m supposed to be a mental health blogger and aspiring coach. In my head, that means I’m supposed to have this knowledge that makes me valuable to you. You know what, though? I have breakdowns. I have moments of weakness when I cry over getting the wrong taco (seriously, that happened). I have times when there’s total chaos and I’m not as centered in my life as I would want to be. But, above all, I am human.

Reading this, right now, so are you. You are a human being with feelings, emotions, weaknesses, strengths, blood, guts, and boogers all making up this beautiful thing that is you. You get to have moments of tears  where you don’t need to flex your muscles. Because you are human, you are bound to have moments when life hits a little too hard. It could be a depressive episode, an anxiety attack, a breakdown, or just a big bitch fit. Guess what? It is OKAY.

We’re not going to stay in that space, though. We’re not going to waste time letting life beat us up. We’ll let out a few cuss words or tears and get back up. Got it? It’s not about what the episode looks like. It’s about how you recover from it. Because yeah, I might have cried over a taco, but you’re damn sure I got Taco Bell right after that.

How has your mental health been? Are you flying high, experiencing a little bit of an episode, or chilling somewhere in the middle? Connect with me on any of my social media accounts below. I want to hear your story!

Edited by Vanessa Reza. Contact information can be found on the “Work With Me” page.

Don’t Worry, Be Happy

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My brother and I were pondering what could be the most contradictory message that I could sharenon my blog. Maybe something like “You Shouldn’t Talk About Your Mental Health,” where I advocate for everyone keeping their traps shut. There are already many people in this world who spend their time writing articles with titles such as “Depression is a Choice,” so I think we have that base covered. Then I started to realize, I should probably write that contradictory blog. I should probably address all the people that scroll through my website and roll their eyes. 

No, I’m not going to sit here and side with you. First off, it would piss off quite a few people who trust me to write with an open mind and heart when approaching something as delicate as our mental states. Secondly, I wholeheartedly disagree. Every single blog that I write has a goal  of connecting to your inner self, your mental health, and your mind. If you don’t believe that some people might face some problems in that department then maybe this blog will change your mind. Seeing the world as more than just a binary  of “happy” and “sad” will seriously change your life. 

My parents knew almost nothing about depression when I first started my high school cry for help. They didn’t say they were clueless. They definitely didn’t know what to do or where to start when it came to addressing a situation that was unraveling before their eyes. Like most in their generation, they were raised to rub some dirt on it, wipe away tears, and get back up again. For all intents and purposes, this isn’t a terrible mindset to have. I mean, these are the men and women who have fought a couple of wars and whose parents survived the Great Depression. Was there really another way?

Generally speaking, in their generation, problems were dealt with in the home. Even then, no one really had the resources, technology, or knowledge about mental health to advocate for it or understand it like we do now. We constantly say that more and more people have mental illnesses now, but what if people just weren’t willing to be anything other than “normal?”

All that being said, my parents are definitely outliers amongst their peers. When others didn’t really understand or support my confusing disdain for everything around me, my dad was driving the mental health support train with my mom blowing the whistle. I’m blessed. People often applaud me for being open about my mental health journey, but they never think to applaud my parents for taking the leap with me. Being so vocal about my experiences has meant putting some really vulnerable moments online that people don’t always understand, especially when they think that I just wake up every day and choose to have depression or anxiety.

Yes, I did have pink hair & no, I don’t regret it.

I was probably 19 when I first had someone ask why I couldn’t just be happy. The look on their face was a mix of judgement and genuine curiosity. I’ve gotten the whole “I would NEVER take medicine,” thing too many times to count. I still tease my mom about saying “I think you should just get some exercise and you’d feel way better,” when she started to notice my mood shift downward. 

If there was any possible way that I could wake up, press a button, and decide my diagnoses wouldn’t  bother me that day, I would do so in a heartbeat. I’m going to take a leap of faith in saying that literally every single person that has a mental illness would do the same thing. I absolutely don’t blame people for not feeling like medicine is their thing. It’s not my thing either! But damn, you don’t wanna hang out with this homegirl without  her meds because it’s what WORKS FOR ME! Also, I would love to just sweat/eat right/meditate/sleep/work all of it out, but that’s not how it works. 

Mental illness is exactly that: mental. You can’t see my social anxiety from across the room at the doctor’s office, but it’s very much there and it’s very much real! That classic Bob Marley song that I conveniently used as the title for this blog also used to piss me off when I was younger because I was worrying all the time which in turn made me the exact opposite of happy. You know the one. I get it. It’s a song. It’s supposed to make you feel good. But, just because you haven’t felt mental illness in your mind or coursing through your body doesn’t make the experience less real for someone else. 

I haven’t personally broken my leg, but I understand that it would probably hurt. I don’t need to feel my bone break to believe in that kind of pain or suffering. More importantly, I trust the opinion of doctors that study and treat those people in the best way that they know how. Does a psychologist need to put someone’s head in a cast to have the world believe that you can’t just wake up and be healed? Maybe I’m comparing  apples and oranges, but if someone asked why you can’t just choose to start running on your broken leg you wouldn’t know where to start. If they shamed you for taking ibuprofen because when THEY broke their leg THEY didn’t have to, how would you feel? If they told you to just get some more sleep and it would go away, what would you say?

So yeah, don’t worry and be happy, my friends. But know, that there’s a time and place where you or the people around you can’t easily fit into the mold that is “happy.” Understanding each other is the first step in advocacy for mental illness. Even if you’re lucky enough to not have a first hand experience with mental illness, knowledge in the fact that there’s not just two camps of “happy” and “sad” can go a long way in how we love and treat one another.

Even if this blog still seems like some sort of persuasive essay and you still haven’t been convinced, I hope you’ll take a look at resources like National Alliance on Mental Illness who can say all this stuff more technically and less based on personal experience. Moral of the blog: I hope you never ever question why someone’s “choosing” to be sad. I hope you tell your kids, grandma, dog, lizard, succulent, and any other life form that will listen that happiness isn’t a choice. It’s something that you work at. Some of us just need a little support in that department.

Here at EmyD you’ll see an ongoing narrative that if you’re trying your best, no one can ask anything else of you. That goes for happiness too. If you’re trying your best to get up, show up, and just survive, in whatever that looks like right now, I’m proud of you!

Have you ever felt misunderstood or misrepresented in your mental state? Even after explanations, examples, and tears? You are not alone! Connect with me on any of the social below – I want to hear your story!

Edited by Vanessa Reza. Contact info can be found on the ‘Contact Me’ page.

Is it Okay to be Okay in May?

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May is my month!. It’s my birthday month. It’s also when I would get a break from college, and it’s usually when the weather starts getting warmer in Wisconsin. More importantly, May is Mental Health Awareness Month aka a time when I want all of you to bend a knee because I have a healthy relationship with antidepressants and you all should be made aware.

Okay I’m kidding, but a part of me does want to throw some confetti for all of my brothers and sisters who also deal with the daily ups and downs of mental health.

I’ve already beat it into your head that we’re not waiting for a new day, week, or month to start celebrating the little things. But, sometimes we need that little life sign to jump, ya know? I feel moved to write this and something compelled you to read it. There’s your sign. If you’re not celebrating your mental health for EXACTLY what it is, this is your sign.

Nala, this is not what it looks like…. but look, I’m always cute in May! It’s my month! (18 years old)

Let me explain. Just like I have friends in all shapes and sizes, I have loved ones at all different points of the mental health spectrum. I have friends  who don’t always approve of talking about mental health all the way to friends who write, sing, or podcast about it just like I do. I have family that have gone through similar diagnoses or experiences, and friends who have never even imagined going to therapy. This is a month to celebrate you, your mind, and your mental health.

More importantly, it’s a month all about understanding that no one mental health is identical to another. It’s about awareness – which is so damn cool if you think about it. It means that if you say you’re an ally, no one is expecting you to be an expert. It means that you want to be a part of ending a stigma of the past for people struggling in the present. It means that you want to understand someone other than yourself, which is so important in this society.

I have been talking about and attempting to understand my mental health for years now. Each year, Mental Health Awareness Month comes around and it means more and more in my journey to recovery. When I was diagnosed, I wasn’t aware that there were others like me. My parents weren’t aware of how they could best support a teenager that was doing all she possibly could to push everyone away.

It took me far too many years and far too many Mental Health Awareness Months to realize that I am not defined by the medicine that I took, the diagnoses that still sit in my Mercy MyChart, or even by the stories I already share about my mental health.

For so long, I told myself that one of the first labels that was important for people to know about me was “depressed” or “anxious”. For so long, it felt like the only thing I could talk about, the only thing that was worth listening to. Maybe I wanted them to know that because I wanted to prove the strength that I found. Or, maybe I still hadn’t found a label that really feels right.

Each day, I can choose a different label. I mean, that’s the beautiful thing about the world, right? You don’t ever have to be the same person you were the day before. I’m a daughter, sister, voter, friend, blogger, college graduate, photographer. Saying that I’m one of those things, or all those things, doesn’t change the fact that I know I’m a warrior.

My 22nd Mental Health Awareness Month & birthday when I’m starting to actually realize that time, acceptance, and great company heals wounds. I felt so good. It’s okay to be okay!

I mean, what about when I’m doing really well? Do I still have to talk about depression when the bad days aren’t very often? Do I still have to blog about panic attacks when I haven’t had one for months? Talking about that part of my life is important, especially during months when we aim to spread awareness. The beautiful thing about Mental Health Awareness Month is you get to see people in all aspects of their journey – the confusion, the pain, the anger, the loneliness, the acceptance, and even the recovery. So, a big part of my mental health journey now is understanding that I don’t have to keep validating myself as a warrior. I wear my armor everyday.

Are you feeling okay during May? Or, are you feeling like your mental health might need some extra love? Contact me at any of my socials below – I want to hear your story!

Edited by Vanessa Reza. Contact info can be found on the ‘Contact Me’ page!

I Got Laid Off Due to COVID-19

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I’m doing my absolute best to remain calm. We’ve seen before that I’m not good at dealing with A) change, B) financial insecurity, or C) anxiety. So, this is a trying time for me. I’m trying to remind myself that I’m with my family and, if I do get sick, I have them. I’m trying to remind myself that my parents have already offered to help me out with my bills through the end of my lease; if it came to that, of course.

Life’s little St. Patrick’s Day gift to me and my coworkers was the restaurant most of us have called home for 30+ hours a week to-go food only. No dine-in guests means no servers and no tips. . Plainly put, the restaurant doesn’t need us right now. As of March 17th, I have been laid off from my job. I’ll have one more paycheck before I no longer have an income.

For all intents and purposes, I’m fine. I’m okay. I’m trying to remind myself that I’m with my family and, if I do get sick, I have them. I’m trying to remind myself that my parents have already offered to help me out with my bills through the end of my lease; if it comes to that, of course. Sure, I’ll be in a financially uncomfy spot for a while. I also might go a little loco inside my childhood home for the foreseeable future. However, I don’t have a family to support. I don’t have a mortgage. I don’t have to provide food for anyone. I don’t have crazy loans… well, hold up, I do actually. But, they’re from school,  which means they can be postponed in situations like this.

Am I scared? Fuck yes. Am I nervous about what my life is going to look like in a month? Absolutely. Am I getting more and more anxious about this as information is released? For sure. I have not, however, had an anxiety attack. Every time I feel it coming on, I remind myself that I’m blessed for the position that I’m in. Though I’m absolutely allowed to feel nervous and validated in my fear, there are others who have less resources and less support.

I work with people whose entire livelihood is dependent on the business of the restaurant. They work at 3 jobs, all of which have been closed due to the spread of this terrible virus. Missing even one paycheck is going to be detrimental to their entire family. I have the option to apply for unemployment. For one reason or another, not everyone does. I have two parents who have a lot of job security right now that can offer me my old room back. They want me to temporarily move in and depend on them until all of this passes. They have the ability to help me with bills as I start to chip away at the money I’ve saved. Moral of the story: I’m okay. Others are not. Others need as much help and resources as they possibly can get.

COVID-19 is truly scaring the shit out of me. In the last 36 hours, our cases have doubled in Wisconsin. No, I’m not scared of getting sick because as the media says, I would probably be fine as a young, decently-healthy person. I have had a gnarly cough for about a month that feels exactly like the bronchitis I had at this time last year, so I know my lungs are feeling a little tired. Even after that, I’m still not scared of getting the virus. I’m scared for my mom, who has been working tirelessly to keep an assisted living facility on lockdown. I’m scared for my grandma and uncle who are extremely immunocompromised. I’m scared for my friends that take medications every day, which might make them an easier target for all of this.

As it has with the majority of victims, the infection will pass. The thing that keeps me up at night is life just grinding to a halt because no one really knows what to do. The panic that everyone is exhibiting is what goes on inside an anxious person’s mind at a majority of times. Usually, though, we can watch normal life occurring around us and use coping mechanisms to calm ourselves down. In this space, there’s no reassurance from the outside. Everyone is just as scared as you are. No one knows what to do just like you don’t really know what to do. It makes me nervous that American’s panic is not being met with secure plans of action or support for those out of a job. American’s don’t even have the privilege of believing their executive branch because it’s stance goes from “not a real threat” to “always knew it was going to be dangerous” in just a matter of days.

Panic comes from fear. There’s not a lot of things that are strong enough to fight that force besides kindness, patience, and empathy. This is not the time to point fingers at people across the world who are experiencing loss and uncertainty at rates even higher than we are. This is not the time to stimulate the bank accounts of people with millions of dollars, but the time to ensure that working class Americans don’t lose their homes or starve to death. This is not the time for a “every man for himself” mentality, but for us to help those in our community with any resources we might have a surplus of – even if that surplus is just positivity in the face of so much chaos.

So, yes. I was one of the thousands of Americans that was laid off from their job as coronavirus rages through each state. I’m one of the thousands that’s looking to our leaders for support, whether it be financial, information, or physical.

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again. My absolute favorite line in The Lion King is “I know that the clouds will clear and that the sun will shine.” This will pass. It may not seem like it now. It might get much, much worse before it gets any better. Until then, reach out to your loved ones, read a book, do a puzzle, listen to my podcast, learn a new language, play a video game. If the government urging you to do so isn’t enough, stay home because it keeps people that are at larger risk of dying from this disease safe from transmission that you may or may not be feeling. If that’s not enough, stay home because it sets an example for those around you that you give a fuck about this. And if that’s not enough…. Stay home because it might allow people like me and my coworkers to get back to work faster.

Keep up with my social distancing on all forms of social media (@EmyDBlog on Insta, Twitter, and Facebook). If you’re feeling overwhelmed by all of this, please don’t hesitate to reach out! If you want to chat with me via email, you can do so at emydsaliby@gmail.com.

Slowly but Surely, You’re On Your Way

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The last month or so has been utter chaos. Some days, I’ve been thriving in it. Others, all I’ve wanted to do is shut down. No one likes that icky feeling of having too much to do and not enough time to do it. In moments when time does not seem to be on my side, I think of what my used to say when I was pressuring her about getting me to school faster in the busy morning hours of middle and high school.

Imagine this 8th grade face trying to hustle you drive them to school every morning. God bless my mother, for real. She’s a saint.

“Emily, the car is currently moving forward. I’m in the process of getting you there. I can only go the speed limit & I have to stop at all the stop signs. You will get there. I promise.”

In those moments, it pissed me off. Usually being late was my fault because I still sleep to the last possible minute of time. Honestly, that’s still why I’m late to this day. About ten years later, though, my mom’s words mean something a little different.

Time isn’t always on our side. Sometimes, we’re expected to do 100000000 things in time that doesn’t even seem like enough to breathe or think. It happens in our workplace, at home, and at school. When you have a hard time saying no, this problem only gets worse. Not only do you have all the responsibilities that come with just being you, but then you’ve added on some new ones that you resentfully said yes to completing.

Lately, I’ve been trying to get used to a new place and new schedule in which a big portion of my time isn’t taken up by school. In a perfect world, I should be able to deal with chaos MORE gracefully than before. I mean, I have the time and the energy that I could turn my focus to it. Without a set schedule or syllabus to keep me in line, I’m feeling a lot of chaos that I wasn’t necessarily prepared for in entering this chapter of my life.

In my head, I thought I’d have all this time to plan out the blog, social media posts, and the podcasts. Since I’m not dragging around a backpack full of textbooks on public policy or astrology, I thought I’d have the opportunity to really lazer in on what I love without a second thought. Let me just tell you, it DOES need a second thought. All this time is amazing, but it’s easy to get sucked into like an addict and a substance. If you walk into the chapter thinking that all you have to do is sleep and work, all you’re going to get done is sleep and work – seems natural, right? There’s no shame in sleeping and working – you do you, boo boo. But, if you think that because the time is there, it’s going to automatically allocated to the new side hustle, hobby, or interest without a little bit of refocusing or recentering…. that’s just not realistic in my world.

I’ve realized this is kind of the same with friendships too. When I was in school, I was seeing the people I loved as much as possible but had these legitimate things in the way from me seeing them all the time – homework, quizzes, exams, whatever. I thought when I moved closer & didn’t have any of those things, I would see them everyday without any added effort.

Truth is, sometimes you have to kind of refocus your social life too! Like, if you want to see your friends more or want the invite to the bars & that wasn’t your scene in a previous chapter, you’re able to make it your scene now!

I had this big assumption that I would move and I would automatically fall into the perfect schedule for a new business and a full-time job and a more involved social life. I assumed that that would require little to no work from me. I was way wrong & it just kind of caused chaos that was hard for me to wade through and understand for a while.

Like my mom said, though, we are on our way. The car is moving forward. We might have to come to complete stops in understanding what’s holding us back or dealing with some trigger, but you are still in the car on the way to where you’re supposed to be. You also can’t drive way above the speed limit. Sometimes, we’re so obsessed with speed through life to get to a certain checkpoint, that we take the roads that we’re traveling in ways that aren’t safe or effective to us. It just causes more chaos.

We are all moving forward. We are on our way and we can’t just jump through this journey. So it might be bumpy or smooth, but dammit, you’re on your way.

What do you want to hear about next on the blog? Tweet me, message me, or slide into any of my DMs on socials: @EmyDBlog. You can also share your story and email me at EmyDSaliby@gmail.com!

Must Be Funny, In a Rich Man’s World

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I don’t have a relationship with money. Even when I have plenty to pay all my bills, save some, and do fun stuff, it never really feels like enough. I read a book once that said that you have stress about things that were surrounded by stress in your formative years.

I knew that I always had food, a warm bed, clothes, and my own bed every single night. I was able to do a lot of things that children around me couldn’t. Being hyperaware, though, has always been a curse as well as a blessing. My parents never talked about money with me. Never told me if they were struggling – on the contrary, my dad always said “you can always make more money” or “we will make it work”. That being said, I don’t come from a long line of royalty or business moguls either. I don’t have a trust fund & the value of a dollar became very apparent very early on.

Literally the cutest family ever. Sullivan did make it cuter I will admit.

My parents worked their asses off to get where they are. Like many in their generation, they don’t have these Masters degrees in their field, but were able work their way up. I spent my childhood watching my parents move up into jobs that valued you them more, paid them better, and that they loved doing. At 14, I wanted to be able to *kind of* provide for myself. I got a job in childcare at our church. My first paycheck I became obsessed with the idea of saving, not having enough, and having more.

Some of my friends never had to, and still don’t really have to, worry about a job. They have a credit card linked to their dad’s personal checking account for when times get too tough… and if that’s you, God bless you, dude. Good for your parents. Good for whoever made the fortune for the family – you and I just live very different lives.

At 14, I started to get worried about saving for college. 14 years old. I mean, I had to go to school and I could only work X amount of hours in a week. The thought of my parents paying my way made me sick to my stomach. Again, if your parents had that ability or that was your family’s plan, more fucking power to you. It just makes me REALLY uncomfortable. In my head, my parents are supposed to make sure I have food, shelter, and love. Even that, is more than some people have. I didn’t want or need them to pay for school… I could do that myself.

Let’s not get it twisted; my parents did put their credit on the line to co-sign on a lot of bullshit for me. Especially these student loans, so again, couldn’t have done it without them. After 4.5 years, I was happy to receive my diploma on my own merit, payments that I had made, and debt I had taken on myself.

My parent’s graduation gift to me was paying off a couple private loans. That gift cuts one of my monthly payments in half and takes care of thousands of dollars of school debt. I didn’t feel like I could accept it, even if it was a gift. It was their money – money that they could use to take trips, buy something lavish, or just save.

As I’m writing this, I’m thinking about rent, utilities, my car payment, loans, credit card, and just the price of being alive. There are huge steps I need to take in learning better ways to save money. I need to take better advantage of my monthly budget. God knows, I need to cool it on eating out so much. BUT, the first step of making money and having a good relationship with it has been instilled in me since I was a kid – work your ass off.

Spending someone else’s money is fun and exciting, but earning your own and supporting yourself is soooo empowering. So, if you find yourself spending a lot of money on things that seem temporary, I would challenge you with the question: Do I value one dollar? Do I value my time as a means of making money? Am I spending money to cope with something else? Odds are, one or more of those questions will lead you to some pretty vulnerable realizations about your relationship with money.

I actually really like current my job. I work with my best friends and I’m good at what I do. PLUS, sometimes we get to meet sweet baby angels like these puppies. But, I don’t see myself doing this forever.

I still struggle with moments of stress when it comes to money. I question the path of content creation I’ve chosen and whether it will be as fruitful and successful as I imagine my later life to be. And sure, I could join a corporate office that draws on my majors and make a salary and have a lot less unknown. I made a decision, though, that I would rather be happy, doing what I love, and living a somewhat more restrictive life in terms of finances than working in an office, feeling stale and unhappy, but having extra money in my bank account.

I’m recently listening to the RISE podcast with Rachel Hollis who is a multimillion dollar business owner with just a high school degree. She’s the author of books like “Girl, Wash Your Face” that have become all the rage in today’s younger success-hungry demographic. I listen and actually TAKE NOTES on her words, because her path is something I’m striving for. She always says “there are a LOT of ways to make money and pay your bills.” Which is so true! Money is circling around every industry, every career, and is waiting to be given to driven, motivated people. So, even if the moments now are stressful, I have to remember the end goal is getting paid for doing what you LOVE rather than settling for what you like.

Money is stressful. It’s a huge part of everyone’s mental health. But, you can always make it.. you WILL figure it out, and regardless of what your bank account looks like, you’re worthy of happiness, relaxation, and serenity. This is just as much a reminder for me as it is for all of you.