A Little Bit About Me and My Mental Health Journey

I’ve been dealing with mental health issues since I was really young. The first panic attack that I remember was over a hot dog when I was seven. I had recently thrown one up and couldn’t stomach them. Even the smell made me nauseous. So when the school lunch one day was scheduled to be hot dogs, and my mom hadn’t had the time to pack me something else, I naturally had a complete meltdown that caused my sister and I to miss the bus. I was punished by being sent to school without a lunch, and my sister got a ride home that day while I was forced to ride the bus home alone. My parents think this was an overreaction on their part now, but back then, it seemed like a good idea for an overly dramatic kid throwing a tantrum. That was far from my last panic attack. In fact, they became a regular occurrence over my grade school and high school years. They went hand in hand with my academic struggles, something I can’t believe didn’t throw up a red flag, but I guess my grades were just good enough that I slipped under the radar for a learning disability until I was in college. It took me seven years to graduate with an undergraduate degree. I dropped out twice, once was to move home and to go to community college for a few years to figure out what I wanted to do with my life, and the second time happened when I started failing my classes the semester after I lost my grandpa.

The panic attacks settled down a little when I studied abroad at age 22 for six weeks, but I’m not completely past them, I’ve just found better ways to cope with the anxiety and the stress. The depression, however, that never seems to go away for too terribly long. I go through times of extreme highs where I feel like I’m on top of the world, but that can come crashing down without any notice at all, and I’ll spend days in bed crying with absolutely no idea why I’m upset. Sometimes, I do nothing but sleep, but other times, I’m too fatigued to sleep.

It wasn’t until I was mourning my first huge heartbreak in my late 20s (I know, I seem to develop late on everything!) that I was finally diagnosed with bipolar disorder by my family doctor. It probably should’ve been obvious, but I still have some mental health professionals doubting if I was properly diagnosed. I believe it to be an accurate label. In late summer of 2022, my medical insurance changed and temporarily did not cover my rexulti, a bipolar add-on medication. I spent nearly a month in what I can only describe as a strange brain fog, acting incredibly impulsively and a little dangerously. I did some really stupid things, thinking I was invincible, before I came crashing down and took a three-day long Xanax nap that barely kept me out of the psych hospital.

This has been my front seat rollercoaster ride with some serious issues. Throughout this blog, I planned to tell you more about it, but also what I’ve done to treat it and maintain a fairly well-functioning existence. I’ll be honest about the medical treatments I’ve done, but also include many self-care practices that I believe have helped greatly. I’ll also include some posts about my favorite books on mental health. I’m a firm believer that everyone benefits from sharing their experiences - whether, in this case, it’s me personally telling my stories, or the person who reads this that didn’t believe anyone else understands what they’re going through until they read this post. Together, we don’t feel so alone anymore. By sharing our stories, we work towards ending the stigma attached to these very real problems. So let’s start doing that… together.