I'm a helper by nature. It's one of my gifts. a six on the enneagram. Loyal & faithful to the end with those I find close to me. I've always been the mom friend even before I was a mother. Making sure everyone was communicating, getting along, had their needs met at parties and outings, making sure I helped my mom and siblings any way I could. I couldn't help myself. The thing is that same gift can be hurtful. As I got older the desire to help other people and make sure things were running smoothly became anxiety. My first strong memory of anxiety was at fourteen.
I’m fourteen years old & I’ve been sick for over a month. Not the sniffles or stomach bug. But chronically ill with a variety of symptoms the doctor hasn’t been able to figure out. Visit after visit with no answers. All kinds of tests and questions. They tested for everything under the sun. It reminded me of a House episode. Seriously! Lukemia, Lupus, Thyroid conditions, rare diseases. On & on. By now I had been entered into my school districts home bound program. I wasn’t able to see friends, participate in my swim team, truthfully I didnt get out of bed most days. The pain was too bad or I was too weak or exhausted. My mom would sit up at night. Praying for me, watching me sleep. It was terribly scary. One night I thought, "It was just be better if I died." I wasn't able to do any normal tasks, even though my parents would do anything for me, it was a hard time for them too! I knew it wore on them during my "sick time" (what we call those months of my life) Thankfully after tons of doctors visits & prayer they found the answer. I had developed rheumatic fever. At the time, my now team of doctors, informed us that I was the first case in about 40 years from Arkansas.
Relieved at a diagnosis & treatment life mostly resumed as normal. In the next few years I graduated high school, I was able to do normal things, be with my friends, and even though the rheumatic fever left me with some health problems they all became manageable.
But one thing didn't change. That overwhelming feeling to make sure things were perfect for everyone, and for myself. Accompanying it was the constant feeling that I was never doing anything right. I had a great family, a great boyfriend, friend group, and church community. I did not have a "bad life". So why couldn't I get anything right? Why did I keep feeling this way?
[Spring 2011 just a couple of babies]
Anxiety quickly lead to depression. Now I was entering college. For my first couple of years I took 18 credit hours a semester and I worked 30 hours during the evening and on weekends. I was also heavily involved in my church community, had a boyfriend that's now my husband, and made sure to spend time with my family. I did it all. Seriously. This left little time for well... me. I left my house at around 7:00 in the morning and I didn't return until after midnight, I would often stay up until 3:00 am finishing homework and projects. Finally get into bed just to wake up at 6:00 to get ready for the next day.
I drove a lot, between home, school, work and church. After several months of my routine I would find my mind wandering in my drives. Wondering what it would feel like to have a car wreck, or to run right into the cement barricade or crash into a semi. I'm heartbroken to say I tried a few of these ridiculous ideas. I thank the Lord every day that he protected me from my own brokenness. That he guided my mind and hands, literally, to where they needed to be even when I didn't know what I needed.
Anxiety, depression, and suicidal thoughts ran amuck through my head. There was no stopping them. But on the outside, you couldn't tell. I was still at school, work, social events. Enjoying myself on dates with Jarrod. Hanging out with my family. All of the positive emotions were there too. I still enjoyed my life, I still had fun. A big misconception of anxiety and depression is that you should be the human version of Eeyore! But that's not always the case. Anxiety can present in lots of different ways, like being an extrovert, go getter, because failure or missing out or messing things up just isn't an option!
It would be like a mountain, a week of anxiety that slowly crept into depression for a little while, until bam! I was thinking or attempting to hurt myself, again. I would "wake up" mentally, talk myself back down, go back to a place of silent anxiety. Then it would start all over again.
It went on and on and on and like this for years. Finally, the year of our engagement I began meeting with a lady from our church for a form of counseling and prayer. I learned a lot about myself. By the time we got married, some things had improved but now I would become easily angry when I found myself in the cycle again. Although I wholeheartedly believe in who Jesus is, things didn't work out like I thought they would. What worked for everyone else just wasn't what he used to free me. And that's okay.
For the first year of our marriage my anxiety, depression, and suicidal thoughts and tendencies were the worst they'd ever been. I kept pushing through, working through what I could. No one thing really helped more than the other. But I kept trying.
The second year of marriage I finally opened up to some friends, family, and mentors. That's when I learned that vulnerability was key. Although it was scary, just being honest freed me more than anything! I began to have little to no suicidal thoughts. I did still have hard days with depression. It would even cause me to miss work. I would wake up, paralyzed with sadness. Literally. I couldn't talk, or move. I would just wake up crying, Jarrod would help me text my boss. Calling in sick for the day. It truly seemed to get worse for a bit before it got better.
In February of 2018 we found out I was pregnant. We were so excited, but I was worried. What if I never got rid of this depression. I pressed forward, I started to lean more on my community. To be more open with how I felt. I felt a little freer. Although my pregnancy was rough physically, I loved that I was pregnant. Our little boy turned out to be perfect for our little family.
At the end of 2018 I decided to start a blog. I never published it but as I began to write I felt alive, and free. I never really changed anything else. At the end of this past year I looked back at 2019 and realized I had no suicidal days, no depression days, no extreme sadness out of the ordinary. I was astonished. I still dealt with anxiety but this was a miracle.
So I thought back, and that's when I realized that the blog had helped lead me out of all of that. The opportunity to be vulnerable, honest, pure with me feelings and thoughts. Embracing the idea that God made us to feel, and it's important to share and feel heard.
I still have anxiety, and I still have to partner with my friends and the Lord to manage it. Work at self care and peace. But my emotional and mental state have completely turned around. I survived depression. I won. That sentence is easy to type now, but two years ago I could never see myself as a victor, or to be good at anything. To say it now is so, freeing. It wasn't easy or simple. It was hard. Some days it's still hard. And that's okay too.
I don't share this for pity, to make friends or family feel guilty. I share this because I needed to. I need my truth out there, and maybe it'll help someone else. I'm blessed to have the family and community I have. Grateful for a husband that came closer instead of pushing away. Amazed at what I'm capable of. I want to share that story. That's why this blog is so important. Coffee & Confetti is where I ended up. Opening up to friends and family over a hot mug of my favorite drink. Them getting to celebrate when I became free.
Long story short, open up. Let the light in. Even when it feels painful. You deserve peace. You deserve freedom from pain. No matter how long it takes, keep trying, you're worth it.
Drink coffee and do good,
-B.