If you're seeking help

It always takes a lot of back and forth in my head before I finally work up the courage to post these things. Because we say, "end the stigma" and have all these catchy taglines to promote opening up about mental health but at the end of the day, there's still a ton of stigma. I still have fears that people will look at me differently or that opening up about this will define me in the eyes of some. That I'll only be known for being the "depressed girl."

OH DAMN WELL, I guess.

I have a bit of a rant. They tell us to "get help" if we need it. To not be embarrassed to reach out. What they don't tell you is HOW HARD IT IS TO GET appropriate help. I have struggled with major depressive disorder since high school (over ten years) and I have gotten to see an actual psychiatrist ONCE. And that was ONLY when I was admitted to inpatient mental health facilities, three years ago. AND LET ME TELL YOU it hasn't been from a lack of trying. I have had constant back and forth. Waiting lists, endless referrals, appointments with primary care doctors and lots of therapy with a bunch of referrals and you have to do nothing short of TREKKING TO THE FIRES OF MOUNT DOOM IN MORDOR in order to be seen by someone who actually knows anything about the PSYCHOLOGY OF THE BRAIN (in my geographical area).

I have said this before, I think suicide prevention hotlines are fantastic and very important but these are volunteers guiding you through a very specific temporary crisis. These are not doctors in the mental health field that know the psychology of the brain. So, they tell you to get help. But they won't tell you how hard it is to find the help that actually gets to the root of the issues, TREATS the illness and doesn't just talk you down from an EXTREMELY vital, but temporary moment. Depression is not ONLY being suicidal. There are many other DEBILITATING symptoms of depression, that need to be appropriately treated. I have done a ton of research, and I won't ever claim to be a doctor in the field but I will say I do know a decent amount on the subject. Therapy helps and it works but when you have a chemical imbalance in your brain, it is only one half of the equation. They will tell you that themselves. That is, if you can even find a decent one. When I was discharged from inpatient behavioral health three years ago, I was set up with an outpatient "counselor" to continue therapy.

When I walked into the door for my first session, this man's first words to me were, "You look fine. What's SO BAD about your life?" His tone was extremely patronizing.

Um. Well, sir. I'm no health professional, I thought that's what YOU were supposed to be, but I've been told it's my brain. Not my "life." I was absolutely appalled. I never went back.

Another nurse I went to told me that I should scream into a pillow. That it always helped her when she was feeling "blue." I'm not feeling BLUE lady, I am battling a constant stream of cognitive distortions in my head AT AN ALARMING RATE BECAUSE THE CHEMICALS IN MY BRAIN ARE MISALIGNED.

Call me crazy but these miseducated "health professionals" weren't exactly the kind of people I wanted to open up to. Especially when I seemed to know more about the mental disorder than they did. They seemed to have no inkling of a clue about the science of DEPRESSION. (Don't get me wrong, there are definitely some really good therapists in the area who care about their patients, too.)

And when they make you jump through all these hoops. When your insurance doesn't cover shit. When you have to pay out of pocket. Or try eighteen different therapists. Spend days and weeks on the phone with insurance companies. I mean.. ain't none of that HELPING anybody's mental health, the stress of it all. It's so easy to give up on the system. ESPECIALLY since rates of depression are much higher among those living in poverty, they get stuck in an endless cycle because many do not have insurance and cannot pay out of pocket. When you're struggling to keep the heat on and a roof over your head, it is damn near impossible to make mental health a priority. And that's when people need it the most.

I don't know if it is the same in other areas, but I know my area has an EXTREME shortage of psychiatrists and I guess there's not much they can do if there is simply no one to be seeing patients but it's UNACCEPTABLE.

We lose people to suicide and then we tell people to get help but it isn't that simple. Getting to the bottom of things can take YEARS. It has for me. Things have compounded and gotten much worse over time, as they tend to do when left untreated. And to expect people to have that kind of time when they are dealing with something so serious is just atrocious.

I don't know the answer, I really don't. I encourage you to be persistent and keep trying if you are dealing with anything similar. I hope this process gets easier. Your life is just too precious to give up, even if it can be extremely frustrating.

PLEASE don't think I'm discouraging anyone from getting help. PLEASE!!!!! DO!!!! I am writing this to educate some and to share my experience. So that when we share these "take care of yourself, get help!" memes, everyone can be a little more aware that there is more to it than just walking in somewhere and ~getting~ the help.

And now, more than ever, be a support to the people in your lives because sometimes the professional help they need isn't as easy to get as everyone would like to make you think.

Marie Howey: A Work in Progress, Forever

After Maylene was born, I spent many years resenting people. Many years. Resenting people for not understanding me, resenting people for not being able to relate, resenting people for my own feeling that I didn't belong. I felt I didn't belong with my own peers and I felt I didn't belong with "traditional" moms, either.

To this day, I don't think I know anyone who has had the same exact life experiences that I have.
I don't personally know other single mothers who were, at 20 years old, in a seemingly stable relationship, got pregnant, got cheated on, raised an infant alone while simultaneously earning a Bachelor's degree while working two jobs and battling depression. I don't know other people who have struggled in the same specific ways financially, emotionally and mentally that I have. That's not to say I am soooOoo unique in my scenario, I only mean the specific circumstances. But the difference is that now I understand I'm not supposed to. No one's life experiences are exactly the same. That is the beauty and that is the pain.

(..I promise you, this isn't a "woe is me" post.)

I hated going to class. I hated going to work. I hated being around people who, I thought, didn't know how good they had it. I resented them for being able to get a full night's sleep before their 8am. I resented them for being able to afford nice clothes. I resented them for having age-appropriate issues to talk about when my life felt so unrelatable. I grew apart from friends, I resented them for being able to live the fresh 21 life. I resented their freedom. I'm not proud to say that, but it's true.

But the thing is.. I know many people who have struggled in many different ways. My struggle isn't the only struggle by a LOOOONG shot. My story isn't the only story. I know people with similar stories and I know people with vastly different stories. I know people who have had it MUCH worse and I know people who have had it much easier. But it's all relative, really.

I look back today and I thank God my life unraveled exactly as it has. Because that is MY story. It belongs to me and no one else. Just as your's belongs to you. It doesn't make me better than anyone else. It doesn't make me stronger than anyone else. It has made me, and continues to make me, a better version of me and that is what my life is for.

Too often, for too long, I based my life's story on someone else's perception of me. That is just noooot what it's all about, y'all. That is why I have always struggled so badly with things like social media. The surface, the comparison.

What took me ages to realize, I mean really realize, is that our lives are not for comparison. I was born to be me and you were born to be you. That, to me, will always be the beauty of it. I have and will continue to learn the lessons that were meant for me.

In my naivety, I became wiser.
In being insecure, I became an open book.
In betrayal, I learned how to love.
In hardship, I learned gratitude.
In depression, I learned to fall in love with life through the little things.
In selfishness, I learned the importance of the people in my life.
In regret, I learned how to get better at apologizing.
In accepting my humanity, I learned that I can make endless mistakes and still strive to be the best version of myself, every day.

I try not to feel that resentment or envy anymore; because we all do at one point or another. It feels so much better when you're able to trust that each and every one of us is constantly learning, living and writing a unique story of our own. We don't all have the same experiences and THANK GOD for that. What a boring world that would be.

It's never too late to admit you're kind of an asshole. Allow your experiences to shape you and fuel your growth. Turns out, alienating yourself with self-pity ain't so fun (or worth it).

I am here to tell you that this self-care movement is a crock of shit.

Annnddd let me tell you why.

Think about the times in your life when you've felt really whole. When you've felt complete. When you've thought to yourself, "This is it. I am fulfilling my purpose. I feel good about who I am."
Now maybe I'm a lone ranger here, but I'm gonna guess that I'm not. I'm also gonna guess that you didn't have this life fulfilling self-realization when you were lying in the tub with a face mask on and cucumbers over your eyes.

I'm not saying that you should stop taking care of yourself and your body. I'm not saying you shouldn't make time to relax. But ALL. OF. THIS. current worldly focus on "self-care" is honestly bizarre to me. Everyone's been talking about it and it's been a constant buzzword--like it's the most important thing we could ever do.

A big part of the reason it bothers me so much is just in the way it is depicted. Self-care is portrayed as pedicures and splurging on yourself, taking baths and spending money, going out to dinner and getting your hair done. True self-care? It ain't pretty. It is ugly and arduous.

If you truly want to take care of yourself, feel better about who you are and evolve as a human being, it requires grueling work. Having some honest, gut-wrenching conversations with yourself to pinpoint your faults and be honest about the ways you affect the people in your life. It requires discipline and self-restraint to STOP making bad, rash decisions about your money, goals, health and world view. True self-care is developing self-awareness. Being aware of how you make others feel. Making the harder decision to not splurge when it is irresponsible to do so. Choosing to do the hard work now that you've been avoiding for months or years. To better yourself. To write the resume, tackle your unhealthy thoughts with thought-replacement, have difficult conversations with the people you've hurt, apologize, cut back on unhealthy habits, procrastinating less, taking action more, giving more of your time to others, wasting less time on timeline scrolling and napping, waking up early, refusing to let your fears and discomforts control your decisions and focusing less on a ego-centric mindset.

In my opinion, the modern depiction of self-care is actually, on the contrary, quite unhealthy. I think it encourages procrastination and irresponsibility. It fuels laziness and stunts real growth. Basking in frivolous moments of luxury and self-indulgence probably isn't going to make us any feel better about ourselves. And even if it does, is it really for more than a fleeting moment?

If we're to truly nurture ourselves--mind, body and soul, we must acknowledge that we are not the only people in our lives that matter. Focusing less on ourselves in a selfish way and more on our impact in a greater sense.

For me? This has meant taking a painful look at myself. Acknowledging that my daughter deserves and requires more of my full, undivided, undistracted attention in a day. Realizing that my anxiety interferes with the way I treat others. Seeing that I have projected pain and hurt onto my boyfriend by making assumptions and jumping to conclusions. Realizing that I have acted out of jealousy and selfishness. And I have been trying fiercely to replace my stream of negative thoughts. To stop making excuses and pushing important things off. Working on all of this is hard work, agonizing at times. But that's exactly what makes it important. It's the only type of care that we will come out of feeling truly transformed, truly productive and most importantly, truly self-loving.

xoxo

I Am Sensitive: Hear Me Roar

In a harsh world, showing vulnerability is hard.
Showing transparency comes off as weak.
In a harsh world, I grew to hate myself
For being "too" sensitive,
For caring "too" much.

People have told me I should stop caring so much,
"Don't take everything on so deeply," they've said.
As if I could just blink and transform the core of my being.

No one cares. No, not really.
That's not the world we live in.
Everyone is looking for the quickest form of
Instant gratification.
And it's probably not even their fault.

But what if that's not who I am?
Maybe that's not who I want to be?

I loathe the thought of feeling nothing
Even more than the thought of taking it all on.

Maybe it is excruciating:
The weight of my feelings
And fears.
The tears I cry and the standards I hold
The love I want and the love I give.

Seeking something pure and true
In a shallow, damaged world
Has honestly felt pointless at times.

But it is still there.
Just not where we've been looking.

We can only find depth by looking deeper.
In both ourselves and others.
Deeper is real, raw, genuine, awkward moments.
Deeper is putting yourself out there.
Deeper is making yourself vulnerable.
Deeper is telling it like it is. Saying how you feel
Without filter,
Without trying to appear another way.
Deeper is not in your comfort zone.
Deeper is not in your phone.
Deeper is not the hundreds of surface, superficial relationships.
Deeper is being yourself, without the facade.
Deeper is being yourself, without someone else dictating who that should be.

Deeper is uncomfortable, but in my opinion
It's the only thing in life that's worth our time.

xo

"A sensitive soul sees the world through the lens of love."

Love Lessons Learned

Up until several months ago, "love," romantic love, had not been kind to me. "Love" was toxic. Deceitful, manipulative, physically and mentally abusive, belittling and painful. 

"Love" wasn't really love at all.
My experiences made me bitter and shut off, happier to be accepting a life alone.

Over the past months, I have received more love than the sum of my entire 28 years on this earth. A real love. A forgiving, understanding, open-minded, communicating, timeless and unconditional love that has changed my views on what love should and can be. I know this because it is so unlike any of the treatment I ever received before. He says to me often, "I don't care about being right. I care about working through this together." Totally simple, right? Well, for me, totally RARE. And totally something no one had ever said to me before.

One night I sobbed, fairly early on in the relationship, after a long day and a pretty heavy episode of depression I cried, "I don't want you to see me like this."

Without any hesitation he reassured me, "I think that it's a privilege that you let me be a part of that. The good, the bad and the ugly. That's life and that's real. It wouldn't feel real if you didn't let me see every part and I feel privileged that you let me in to see all of it, every little part. I will always be here for it, I'm not going anywhere."

If you put your heart in the hands of the undeserving enough times, you eventually FINALLY learn what you want and what you deserve. I was just really starting to believe that it wasn't for me and that there wasn't a chance I'd find it.

But one day without even realizing, everything just falls into place.

Love means something different to me now.
Since the moment we met, I have had this bursting feeling inside. I find myself crying still. But this time, not out of hurt and pain as I have always been accustomed to, but tears of joy welling inside of me. I have a best friend with whom I can share the deepest, darkest corners of my soul.

ALLLLLLLL of that being said, my point isn't to boast. I am ecstatic to be at this point in my life. But I experienced years upon years of pain and hurt. They got me good and there were points I was convinced that I'd NEVER make it through and that I'd NEVER get over it.
The part that I really want to share is that there IS a big picture.

We experience pain and heartbreak so that we might be able to appreciate genuine love and kindness when it does comes into our lives.
It toughens us up. Makes us stronger. Teaches us who we are and what we can be without relying on someone else to tell us. I had to discover my own worth before I could demand someone else's respect and high standards.

It's important to note that love isn't pain. With all of the songs, TV shows and movies out there portraying this idea that love is fighting and making up. Screaming at each other, throwing things, breaking things, cheating, arguing, bickering, breaking up and making up. All of that is portrayed as "love" and "passion" in our society, but that couldn't be farther from true. I'm not saying that you're never going to disagree or argue, but accepting those things as norm will lead to a lifetime of pain that no one deserves. Even though it seems "passionate," these things are toxic abuse, NOT love.

I know, because I've been there.
Things like attachment, codependency, addiction, obsession and comfort can all be easily mistaken for love.
But just because it is all you've known doesn't mean that it is real. Not in its purest form, not love as it is meant to be.
You only have one life to live and you DESERVE to fill it with the most genuine, honest feelings of kindness, caring, forgiveness, acceptance and pure love.
From yourself first, and then from others.

Be patient.

xoxo

with you 

i am desperately understood.

--f.d. soul 

My Own Damn Self

A few weeks ago, Maylene's class had a special presentation night and as I was sitting there, surrounded by the families, the couples and the children--completely out of nowhere, I had a severe anxiety attack.

While the kids were up on stage, I casually scanned the room and happened to glance at one of the performing children's parents. They looked at each other and smiled, as if to telepathically say, "we done good." An absolutely beautiful moment.

And to be honest, one I've never had.

From there, my thoughts started to unravel at warp speeds and before I knew it, I was sitting there fighting back a stream of tears and emotions.

In that moment, I just wanted to know what it felt like. To have the validation, to have the reassurance.. coming from someone else.

You see, as most single parents, my survival is dependent on my necessity to be my own cheerleader.

When the going gets tough, I don't get to send her off to dad to ease the pressure. When we run out of bread at 9pm and Maylene's asleep, I can't leave her with dad while I make a grocery store run. There's no, "go ask you dad." There's no one to split the driving, cooking, cleaning, disciplining, teaching, playing, homework, or bills with. And there's no one for me to glance over and smile at in a moment of pride, for our child.

For a moment there, I was feeling sorry for myself. I tried to imagine how different everything would be if this wasn't the way it had happened.

That's when it all came full circle for me. I realized, I don't think Maylene would be the same child that she is today without our given situation, however tough or imperfect it might be. Because of my sole income, she has never been spoiled. Because she has watched and helped me do it all by myself, she is independent. Because I'm the only one she's around most of the time, she's got an impeccable sense of humor. Wink wink.

Quickly, I looked up and saw my daughter on stage. Happy, entertaining and full of life. I realized that she was the one I needed to take a meaningful look at. I needed to take a moment to deeply reflect on who she is. To recognize, yes, she is a kid and no, she isn't perfect. But her heart is kind, she's growing, learning and healthy.

She makes me a proud mother and I realized that it is okay to pat yourself on the back, to tell yourself you've done good. It's more than okay, it's absolutely necessary.

It doesn't matter whether you're a single parent or not, or even a parent at all for that matter. You can't ever forget to be your own cheerleader. Don't let the absence of someone else keep you from telling yourself what you need to hear most. Honest reflection in parenting and any aspect of life is so important, but you have to make sure that your goals and shortcomings do not block the way for the most critical self-reminders: you are doing a DAMN good job and that does NOT change based on whether someone else is there to recognize it and tell you on a daily basis.

xo

Don't Blink

As you probably noticed, I've been on a bit of a blogging hiatus. I've gone to write so many times and I have stopped myself. As a single mother and an empath, it is often my first instinct to turn to writing when life gets tough. Not because I think that I am unique in my hardships or because I want to focus on the negatives, but because I know that my struggles are what have shaped me. Strengthened me. Made me who I am and shown me what I am capable of. What's that thing they say? "A smooth sea never made a skillful sailor." Well, I believe it. Writing helps me see that.

It has been almost exactly one year since my last post and, in reflection, I've been thinking about what has changed. What hasn't. What got easier, and what became more challenging. Either way, it's been helpful to acknowledge that, even when it doesn't feel like it, I am evolving. I am growing as a person and a parent and I am not the same mom that I was a year ago or five years ago.

My baby May isn't a baby anymore. I look at her and all of the cutie baby chub is officially gone. Just a few months away from 1st grade and it feels impossible, surreal.

It feels like yesterday I was lying in the operating room sobbing tears of joy, "let me see her, let me see her!" At the same time, I truly don't remember what life felt like before motherhood. I don't remember the way my heart loved or the way my soul experienced life. Of course it changed me, but I truly can't remember what it felt like to not love like this. Worry like this. Ache like this. Grind like this. Sleep (or not) like this. Care like this. All of that, but mostly love.

A fun little side note and tidbit about me, if you don't already know, is that I love quotes. I have a quotation mark tattoo on my back and I love that it confuses the hell out of people. The words, wisdom and experiences of others have always inspired me and stuck with me in a special way. Plus, I'm not always so eloquent, so I'm also a firm believer that "Someone else has already said it best." (American History X reference ftw!).

One of my favorite quotes that I read this past year is, "Motherhood: the days are long, but the years are short. Don't blink." There are few things I relate to more. Sometimes the reality of those words feel painfully true, and sometimes they feel wonderfully true. The days fly by and you don't even notice. You get to see your child growing, learning, evolving, changing, becoming. Who they are and who they are meant to be. But you also get to reflect on your shortcomings and failures as a parent. So many days I took the "lazy way" out. So many times I should have played with those stuffed animals on the bedroom floor before she grew out of them.

Parenthood is full of regret. For me it is, anyway. But I am learning too. It doesn't have to be a bad thing. My regrets have fueled growth. My shortcomings have sparked change. My failures have humbled me: I am not perfect, I will never be. But every single day I am trying. That is life. That is human. And that is the most important reminder of all: parents are still [just] humans.

xoxo