I spent my first week of June finishing up final assignments from my May-mester class, whilst spending all day at my church helping with the theatrical part of Bible and Music camp. It was an exhausting but very fun and worthwhile week, and I regret not helping with BaM in previous years. Needless to say, I will be returning to help out with BaM 2015. I am still singing in my head, "Goliath fights with a spear and sword, but Daaaaaavid fights in the name of the Lord..."
I had one free week before I would begin working as a camp counselor with rising Kindergarteners at a local school system. Little did I know this would open a lot of doors for me. When my first week of the kids' summer camp came around, I spent my mornings volunteering at the Mike Glenn Basketball Camp for the Deaf and Hard of Hearing, which is a wonderful week-long basketball camp open to anyone hearing or deaf. I managed to have basic conversation with some of the deaf campers, and they were all supportive of my signing progress. When my kids' camp shift began, I would drive over to it and spend all afternoon with the kids. We'd go outside on the playground, have nap time (after awhile that became the best part of the day... an hour of semi-silence), and play games relating to the theme of the camp for that week.
I worked this camp job for four straight weeks, whilst house sitting, pet sitting, and babysitting pretty much every day or night of the summer. I was also working as assistant manager for the third year in a row at the summer job I have had since the summer after 8th grade-- the Snack Shack at my pool. Additionally, I managed to hold just two photoshoots over the entire summer, since it was terribly hot or too rainy.
You're probably wondering, where did the fun come in? I'm getting to that. In fact, the pictures I will post shortly will put into words how much fun I had outside of work.
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| Marissa & me at a Braves game during DragonCon weekend. |
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| Spontaneous shoot with friends... I actually made it in most of the photos! |
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| Watching a couple of my favorite people jamming. |
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| First photo shoot of the summer with Evelin. |
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| Last photo shoot I had in the summer with Yessica. |
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| Fun game night with the crew. |
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| Saw Panic! at the Disco AGAIN in August. No floors were broken during the show. :) |
I managed to go skating a few times over summer with friends, and even did a few weeks of recreation league roller derby. I was so proud of myself for getting back out on the track and skating with other rollergirls.
Before I continue to the main purpose of this catch-up blog post, I'm going to take a few steps back and talk about some more personal things that have gone on since my last blog post.
A year ago, I did not see myself ever getting to the point I am at now-- if you knew year-ago-me, then you would understand what I am talking about.
I didn't see myself as ever getting better.
Here's a little background detail (okay, a lot of background detail...):
I have had depression since I was 12 years old, after experiencing a lot of loss of close loved ones; on top of that, lack of confidence in who I was-- size and appearance and what not. When my grandfather started chemotherapy in 2007, we decided that after I finished my 6th grade year in public middle school, we would move in with my grandparents and home school for as long as necessary. During this time, I began gaining more weight and eventually faced a lot of bullying online from former "friends." It became a very dark time in my life where I would drown out my sorrow in what we referred to back then as "emo music" (some would argue this music was namely Linkin Park, Simple Plan... with a touch of Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, and Panic! at the Disco. But, I digress). I also got into self harm (cutting, specifically) and fought my battle with depression on my own. It got better as I made amends in late 8th grade with my former friends, and we managed to leave one another alone. Unfortunately I would later face bullying again when I returned to public school in 9th grade. Most of the bullying was centered around my weight, since it had gotten out of control during middle school. I got better as the bullies moved away or were moved into other classes or transferred for whatever reason (and not because they were bullying me-- I never told adults at my school about that). I was miserable in 9th grade from that as well as other reasons I cannot express in this blog. Only a handful of my readers would know what I am referring to.
I lost a lot of weight in 10th grade, shrinking from a size 18 to a size 12 with a lot of hard work and focus. That stopped after my maternal grandfather died from an on and off 13-year battle with prostate cancer. I witnessed his last breath. As I was starting to feel better about myself, I sunk deep into depression again, and that would only spiral out of control through the next few years leading up to my start to college.
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| February 2011 |
In summary, I struggled a lot during my junior year (as to be expected, because junior year is commonly known as the most stressful year of high school). I started gaining weight again, not rapidly, but still gaining. While my confidence improved, I was hiding sadness deep inside me. I was so proud when senior year rolled around but I couldn't believe high school was coming to an end-- when I was finally beginning to like it.
I lost my paternal grandfather at the beginning of 2013, right as my second semester of senior year began. He and I weren't close, so it wasn't as devastating of a loss to me as my other grandfather's death in 2011 was. He and I were buds. I did, however, enjoy the time I spent with my paternal grandfather in his final months. I finally got to know him, right before he slipped away in his family's presence.
My senioritis kicked in full throttle second semester, but I was feeling more than just senioritis and the lack of desire to do school work. I hadn't finished college applications until the end of January, and I only applied to two schools. I wound up getting accepted into both. I was happy about that, but struggled to fathom that life was about to change dramatically for me.
As time got closer to graduation, I became more and more depressed. A friendship of mine ended a couple weeks before graduation. I was fine after that; I was more concerned with my uncertainty for the future and the fact that I would not be starting college living on-campus, but rather, commuting to school every day. All my friends who would be attending college with me were talking about how they were living on campus. Needless to say I was jealous, and devastated, since what was pulling me down was being at home (again, for reasons I cannot express in this blog but a handful of my readers are aware of).
When college started, my anxiety was through the roof and I was anxious just about every time I got out of bed to start the day. I would cry frequently, on train rides to and from school. I became severely anemic toward the end of my second month of school, which drained me completely. I stopped caring about things but still managed to use what little bits of energy I had to finish my school work. Because I was so anemic, I slept frequently for at least 4 hours at a time after my day at school. When I'd wake up, I would just stay in bed, like I did the last month and a half of summer 2013. I'd overthink and second-guess myself. I would cry some more. I would barely finish my first semester with a 3.0 GPA (I came out with a 3.02!)
One day, I hit rock bottom and I just could not take it anymore. I applied for campus housing and was high up on the wait list for spring term. I reached out to the mother of a dear friend of mine (you know who you are) and she helped me dig my way out of the hole I'd been digging over the last 6-7 years. She encouraged me to go to the counseling center to discuss my struggles.
It was the last week of fall term of my Freshman year of college. I filled out a questionnaire given to me by the employees at the school's counseling center. Some questions ranged from how you felt about your self-worth, to how you relate to others, and you'd rate these on a scale of 1-5; 1 being the lowest/bad, and 5 being highest/good. I had a lot of 1's and 2's on my questionnaire.
After filling out the questionnaire I immediately met with a counselor who would evaluate me and my mental health. The biggest question she asked was if I felt suicidal, or if I felt like hurting myself, or if I was a danger to myself or others. Considering the timing of this, I was not honest with my answer. I lied and said that I did not feel suicidal (when I really did, and I hadn't felt that way since 9th grade). I lied and said I did not want to hurt myself but did admit I was tempted to. I was more of a danger to myself than I ever would be anyone else. I lied because it was exam week, and I didn't know what they would do with me if I had said "yes" at the time.
When winter break arrived, things turned around a bit when I was reunited with my closest friends who attend school out of town and out of state. It helped me find a peace of mind, even though I was still struggling. I got some wonderful news the day after I'd seen a counselor-- I was accepted into university housing (thank you, thank you, thank you to the counselor for bumping me up the waitlist). I did not tell my family until I returned from the Montreat College Conference a few days after the new year began. Most my family supported me when I told them I'd be moving out in a week, but a couple were displeased and did not think I could pull it off, completely doubting my success.
It was bittersweet, moving in my dorm with the help of my mother, Natalie, and Charlie. I wrote about it in my second blog post from January, which can be found here. I felt so free when I was out of the house. It was a new sense of independence. It helped me focus on what I needed to do, and not what others needed to do. I had my own agenda that needed attending to. For once, I was being selfish, and for my own well-being which I had neglected for so long.
A couple weeks after moving on campus, I started seeing a counselor regularly every two weeks. By February, I saw a psychiatrist. After talking for awhile, she prescribed me a low dose of Prozac. However, I did not start my antidepressants until the end of May 2014 because I was nervous about taking them. As the semester progressed, I got better, even though a lot of things changed in my family. Mostly, for the better.
When I did finally start my medication, I immediately started feeling the benefits of it. My counselor described it as a placebo effect, since the medicine generally takes 4-6 weeks before you can really notice a change. I stayed on 20 mg for nearly two months, but at the end of July I confronted a family member about their alcoholism. Around that time, as I was planning this confrontation, I was not taking Prozac regularly. I was frequently "forgetting" to take it, though some days I purposely skipped it because I was so desperate to have feelings for the events going on in my life (including a few family members that have been in and out of the hospital this summer). While antidepressants can be helpful, they are also scarily numbing from any sad emotions-- at least for me, anyway. After the confrontation was unsuccessful, I had a breakdown and struggled for a couple weeks. When I finally saw the psychiatrist again, we discussed upping my dose and since then I have been better than I was on the lower dose, and I'm no longer forgetting to take it.
Thanks to the medicine, the counseling, the supportive friends, and many different changes in my lifestyle, I can finally express with confidence that I am well. Not fine, but well. I can finally see the glass half-full, and sincerely mean it. It feels so unreal being able to type that, but it is absolutely true. The glass is in fact half-full in my life.
So how am I relating my partial-life story to reevaluating what it means to get back to me? I feel like my story might help others who have been in a similar position or are currently struggling, and it's just a reminder, even if it sounds cliche, that it does get better. Ask for help. There is no permanent cure for depression and anxiety, but you have to get help from someone you trust. Having the genuine support of others does wonders for your sanity. There will be times where we start digging holes again, but we must gather all the strength we have to climb our way out of it. There is a way out of it; a positive way out.
As many of you are aware, Robin Williams took his own life recently after a long battle with depression. As you heard from my story, and have heard all over the news since his suicide, mental illness needs to be addressed, because it is so serious. It does take lives, just like cancer takes lives and like other illnesses take lives. Never should depression be belittled. If you know someone who is struggling, don't shrug it off as a phase like many people in my life did when I was in middle school. It has terrible consequences. I lost a friend to suicide four years ago because he was terribly depressed, but I never would have guessed it because of the happy and funny guy I always knew. I hid behind a facade for so long before I hit rock bottom, and many people began to tell I was not well. I was contemplating ending everything. I tremble as I type this. Please don't ever judge someone who has had thoughts like this and please do not judge those who have already passed due to suicide. Until you have been in depression so deep to the point of rock bottom, you can not even begin to judge those who have suffered greatly from depression.
To all my readers out there who are struggling, I just want you to know that you are not alone. In time, as you work toward it (and it has taken every fiber of my being to crawl up the deep hole I've dug over the years), things will get better. There will always be ups and downs, but it's ultimately up to you on how you choose to handle it. It's not easy by any means, but you can do it.
To summarize my summer, I was very productive, very sleepless, but had a lot of fun in between. I became a substitute teacher for a local school system, and after the kids' camp I began working aftercare for a few weeks until move-in day at school. I couldn't be happier that I am back in school, and now that I think about it, I don't think I've ever been more thrilled to be at school.
And as for my progress since my "getting back to me" campaign, let's take a look:
- Moved out (not completely independent, but it's a start)
- Started doing hobbies again that bring me joy (photography and roller derby)
- Became body positive (blog post about that coming in the future!)
- Started medication to help treat my depression (it's working, thank goodness!)
I still have a long way to go, but I have come so far. As I reevaluate, I need to keep in mind not to get too selfish, since I have recognized that I have developed a selfish tendency which I've never had before. It's developed since January, but I'm working towards being more selfless again. I need to keep my focus, and fight for my motivation, since right now that is one of my weak spots. I am also working toward getting fit and eating healthier. Since moving in, my activity and healthy eating has been consistent.
I know I got really personal in this blog post, but believe me, there is so much more occurred in those seven years of my life. But for now, I leave you with this. Stay strong. Be brave. Be bold. Be confident. Do what makes you happy. Don't neglect your health, ever. And remember-- you are important and you are loved.
Until next time,
Kelsey
