Life’s not all rainbows and butterflies

I am tired. 

Tired of being the life of the party. Tired of being the one who puts in the extra work. Tired of being the funny one everyone looks to for a laugh. Tired of being the go-to friend for advice. Tired of being the optimistic bubbly person everyone thinks I am. (Which, don’t get me wrong, I am optimistic and usually pretty bubbly, but that’s not the only side of me, folks.) Tired of giving everyone else my time when I don’t give myself a minute.

Y’all, I am just TIRED.

Don’t get me wrong, I love cracking jokes, being the one my friends can lean on, putting in the extra work on a group project. But I can’t be that person all the time. Nobody is happy all the time. Nobody is equipped to deal with outside drama 24/7. And while most of you reading this will agree we can’t be happy or helpful all the time, nobody actually considers this when seeking help on something or wanting a shoulder to cry on.

Sometimes, the advice-giver needs an open ear to vent to. Maybe the person you rely on to do the majority of the group project just can’t muster that extra energy this time. Maybe, just maybe, they need a  b r e a k.

My depression has been getting the best of me lately. It keeps me from wanting to socialize, catch up on the phone, or even just run errands that I typically love. What do I say when my coworker asks me what I did over the weekend, admit I didn’t leave the house until it was time for work Monday morning? Because that would be the truth. But that’s not the fun answer, it’s not the crazy party story people may be used to hearing from me.

My anxiety comes into play when someone bombards my world, whether it be work or a friend or family or whatever. When you’re depressed, you hardly have enough energy to do the things that normally are a breeze. Waking up on time? LOL that snooze is going off at least five times this morning. Doing my makeup? Y’all might get to see me with mascara and brows on that day. So when I’m having a more-than-usual depressive day, I just can’t handle anything else. And if something is thrown my way I’ll go into a panic.

The thing is, humans are creatures of habit. We get into routines, learn people’s behaviors, and then start to expect those routines and behaviors to stay the same. That’s my issue though: because I’m usually the fun one, the advice giver, the hard-worker, that’s what people start to expect of me. And when I’m struggling with my depression and anxiety more than usual, just thinking about someone needing me or expecting my typical happy-go-lucky self sends me straight into stress mode.

Being an empath is both a curse and a blessing. I love the relationships I’ve made and the connections that continue to grow because of the deep conversations, the venting, the listening, the advice giving. But as someone who lives with anxiety and depression, on my bad days I just can’t handle any more emotion. I will get sad about your dog being sick or your grandparent dying along with you. Truly. That’s why it’s both a blessing and a curse.

I know most of this post has just been ranting, but here’s a quick recap:

  • Be considerate, you never know what someone else is dealing with
  • Stay patient with loved ones who may seem moody or distant
  • Check on your happy friends

This blog was mostly just to get my feelings out there and off my chest so I can take a bigger breath. Have a moment to sit still, quiet and calm. But I also hope some of you can relate, and know you aren’t the only one.

It is okay to say no. It is okay to say, “I’m sorry but I’m just not up for that.” It’s okay to put someone else’s needs off because you need time for yourself. Here’s to a more understanding and empathetic future for us all.

xoxo,

HB

Staying true to myself one bad day at a time

“My aim is to put down on paper what I see and what I feel in the simplest way.” – Ernest Hemingway

What a beautiful sentiment. These words have resonated so deeply with me since I first came across them. The Old Man and the Sea was one of my favorite books in high school and I’ve always admired Hemingway for his writing, so when I came across this quote of his, I vibed with it.

While this was written decades ago, I see it ringing true here and now in 2018. Our country is in chaos, the president of the U.S. is the laughing stock of the world and the headlines in news get worse each day so intensely that we’ve become desensitized to horrific violence happening all over our world.

But, back to the quote above.

About a year or so ago, I told myself I would be honest about my feelings and not hide in my hurting anymore. Today, I don’t feel like donning my typical wide-mouthed smile. And that is OKAY. Am I moping around like Eeyore? No. But am I hiding behind a smile and saying “fine” or “good” when people ask how I’m doing? Also no.

Life is hard. It’s hard for everyone in different ways and on different days. On a hard day, the easy way out is to simply grin and bear it and hope for a new day tomorrow. Well – not today, junior!

Y’all know I struggle with anxiety and depression. I’m not shy about admitting it. But, it’s still hard on days when I’m down and don’t want to get up. My typical response is to laugh it off, act extra happy and hope I can convince myself that I truly am.

Well, here’s how I’m feeling today:

  • tired
  • lost
  • in pain

I woke up on Monday with back pain that I haven’t experienced since my surgery (for those of you who don’t know, I had back surgery Dec 2015 on two herniated discs at the bottom of my spine). While my pain level isn’t anywhere near what it was pre-surgery, it still sucks. I haven’t been sleeping very well this week because of the pain and the anxiety this pain is causing.

Broken. Let down. Failure.

That’s how I feel. I’m 25 years old – why the hell am I dealing with 65 year-old health issues?! I get stuck on that question a lot, “why?” or “why me?” But, this isn’t healthy thinking.

Healthy thinking is believing in yourself. It’s staying on task so you feel accomplished checking off your to-do list. It’s working on your full self: mind, body and spirit. So today, I’m letting myself hurt. I’m accepting the back pain I’m dealing with today and challenging myself for a better tomorrow.

I know this blog isn’t quite as strong or captivating as my others, but this is for me. I’m writing down here and now that I am working on myself, for myself, by myself and won’t stop until I feel like I’ve reached the top of this mountain.

                        xoxo,

HB

 

Please don’t ignore my ‘invisible’ illness

Hi, I’m Hannah, and I’m not your “typical” person living with anxiety and depression, according to society’s standards anyway.

When I was younger, I didn’t know much about mental illnesses, albeit my dad is a clinical psychologist. Throwing around phrases such as “they’re crazy!”, “omg you’re so insane”, or “just get out of bed already!” without knowing how hurtful or unproductive certain words can be to someone. Fast forward through an average childhood, awkward adolescence, a couple painful teenage years and a crazy college experience and here I am – a 24-year-old with a good job, fabulously decorated apartment, adorable rescue pup, loving boyfriend, supportive family and the very best friends a girl could hope for. Sounds like a perfect life, am I right?

Wrong.

More often than not, I struggle getting myself up in the morning. Some nights I hardly sleep at all due to my anxiety; I worry if it’s too quiet, I worry if it’s too noisy. I’m afraid someone is going to break into my apartment and hurt me or my dog. The couch becomes my bed half the time because that’s where my TV is and I have a clear view of the front door, you know, in case anyone tries to break in.

Other nights I fall asleep after dinner and don’t get up until the following morning. Joking about always being late and walking into the office, Starbucks in hand, I play it off as if nothing is wrong and I’m just one of those “late people”. In reality, I’m anxious. Did my boss see me? Are my coworkers whispering about me, calling me a slacker because I’m always late? I wish more than anything I could get up when my first alarm goes off instead of lying there pressing snooze for two hours. On days where my depression seems to be having a party in my brain, telling me I’m not good enough and my job isn’t worth it and I should just hide in bed all day, I finally make it to the office – sans makeup and a semi-decent outfit on.

Living with anxiety and depression can be debilitating. Trust me, I still have my days every now and then where I give into the little voice in my head telling me to stay in bed and hide from the world. However, most of the time I come across as a free-spirited, happy and successful twenty-something. This is where the dilemma lies: a thoroughly optimistic, naturally loquacious, blonde-haired blue-eyed privileged white girl walking around as if she’s got her shit together, when in reality her mind is constantly racing and it feels like there’s a raincloud right above her head.

But, this does not make my mental illnesses any less important or easier to deal with than those whose symptoms aren’t quite as camouflaged. Just because six out of seven days of the week I seem all right, doesn’t mean I really am. On days where I am more quiet at work and wear my oversized headphones that scream “leave me alone!”, I’m not mad or annoyed. I may not even be working that hard. I just need my space because it’s one of those days where dealing with myself is already too much effort and there’s no room for putting on a smile and asking how my coworker’s dinner was the night before.

The more we talk about mental illnesses in general, especially ones that are “invisible” 99 percent of the time, the easier it will be for those living with them and their loved ones, who may not understand. High-functioning anxiety is real; those of us living with it still have the same horrible worrisome thoughts, nervous habits and paranoia. However cliche “don’t judge a book by its cover” may be, it rings true for those who struggle with “invisible illnesses” on the daily.

Reach out a hand and open your ears for your loved ones when they do finally decide to spill their heart out. Take them seriously and listen – you just may end up saving their life.