Why I quit life for awhile

Have you ever wanted to call it quits? Permanently? Have you ever had to physically back away from the toilet or a full bathtub while drying your hair because you're drawn to it like a magnet? Have you ever been left thinking it would be so much easier just to get in the tub with the hair dryer? Arguably, this might not cause death (GFCI *eye roll*)...the point is that it is completely bonkers to be drawn to the possibility, isn't it?

Disclaimer: This is not a plea for help. This is not a pity party. This is an acknowledgement that if you're going through hell, keep going. This, too, shall pass.

I have debated for a few months about whether to post about mental health. In some circles, it is taboo/shameful and in others...dare I say...a badge of honor that some people proudly use to excuse all of their bad behavior. (I'll be the first to admit my bad behavior isn't due to this issue of my mental health and even if it were it that doesn't excuse me.) To the others, it's something they struggle with daily and my hat is off to you.

Sometimes bravery is just committing to waking up each day and acknowledging that people DO want you around. You’re not the burden you think you are and people DO actually care about you. The easy button for YOU doesn’t equal easy for anyone else... and momma didn’t raise no quitter.

As someone who has battled (and yes, I mean battled) high functioning clinical depression and suicidal thoughts for nigh on 20 years, including being medicated off and on for that amount of time, I can say that I’m not unique, special, or even moderately ‘alone.’ I’m one of millions who has quietly gone through their days just trying to make it through the next hour, let alone the next year. I’ve self medicated by working an ungodly amount of hours so I didn’t have to face my own thoughts. I’ve thrown all of my energy into others so I wasn’t forced to be alone with myself.

My experimentation with boundaries and self preservation has given others the opinion of my coldness that couldn’t be farther from the truth. I’ve lost friends in the last several years and I’m grateful for the ones who have stayed. I’m a work in progress, make no mistake.

So the moral of the story is this:

Bravery isn’t always sexy. Sometimes it is just getting out of bed. Sometimes it’s making that phone call, sending that text, or email. Sometimes being brave is letting someone love us, warts and all. Sometimes it is letting go of everything you thought you knew. Sometimes it is just being ‘ok’ with not being ok.

I quit life for awhile. I wallowed in my misery like a pig in shit. I didn’t realize I had so many reasons (see what I did there?) to live. I didn’t realize people cared. I do now and I am grateful. It’s a journey and one I’m committed to seeing through.

So if you’re going through hell, keep going. Seek happiness where you can find it (in a healthy way). Believe better days are coming and take steps to make it so. Be grateful for the ones who stay. Love them fiercely and never let them go.

All in all, you got this. You so got this. Dream it, believe it, achieve it.