Mom. Wife. Military Life.

For my whole life, mental health has been a topic of conversation. I had grown up with the infamous “Black Hole”, famously labeled by the women in my family for the mental state of depression we would all fall in. Genetically I was wired a little off and for the better part of my teenager years admitting that at times that I feel into that “Black Hole” was also my ticket to relief. If I verbalized it, make light shine upon it, then like magic it would also disappear.

It wasn’t until I experienced one of the greatest losses of my life that I realized that the “Black Hole” I would fall into was so much more then a bad simile.

I experienced a miscarriage that changed my utter being. I have never been more humbled, scared, felt like a failure, disconnected, or felt depression/anxiety in a way that you couldn’t even imagine something like that would trigger. Through my next 2 successful pregnancies I walked on egg shells scared for these fragile pieces of life to be taken as fast as the first baby was. It was one night when my husband and my mom approached me, I had to finally come to the realization that I was lacking the connection with my beautiful kids because I buried this pain of loss from 2 year before, that it was constantly eating at me every day after. Emotionally. Physically. Finally admitting I had done that disservice to myself by suppressing that loss and finding closure for that baby opened up a new chapter for my perspective and fight toward finally getting rid of the depression that had taken over my life at that point.

But as one door closes another door opened. As a military spouse, we carry the invisible expectations that society and ourselves have placed upon us. Some attainable, some not so much. Our spouses are thrown into situations that our families and friends in the civilian world don’t even know how to ask about. We are thrown into deployments that we toss on our backs and trek through with a smile on because that is what is “expected” of us.

Before my husband left for his first deployment I remember mentally feeling so strong but my body telling me otherwise. I was having sharp chest pain that would come and go. I remember thinking “What is wrong with me? I am a 20 something, healthy, young woman. Why is my heart doing this?”. Then it clicked. The “Black Hole” doesn’t just show it’s face as depression anymore, it’s tapping into the physical aspects of my life and I don’t even know it. When he left, the pains stopped and I started to put my head down and push through.

The physical moments would come and go as he would, like tides in the ocean, high points and low. I didn’t realized how deep in I was until a tsunami overcame me.

When we lived overseas I noticed my depression and anxiety peaking and I remember promising my mom “If when we come back stateside I still feel this way, I promise I will get help… I’m sure it’s just the tempo of life here, the time J has been gone, life is just painfully not normal, but when we get home it will all be better!” Maybe I was just convincing myself.

We got back stateside and I hit the bottom on the barrel. I thought I was low before. Now I was really there. Bottom. Of. The. Barrel. I was having dizzy spells. The smallest conversation my husband and I had turned into a head-between-my-knees full on anxiety attack. I was watching TV one night and out of nowhere convinced myself I was dying of a brain tumor and full on lost it. My anxiety and depression had won. I had lost all of my power physically and mentally, they fought the better fight. It was time for help. Help bigger then the mediation, yoga, journaling, affirmations, working out, diet, family, friends, EVERYTHING you could possibly try. I needed more.

I gave in. I had a doctor confirm that I was dealing with severe depression and anxiety and it was time to medicate. He looked me straight in my tear filled eyes and I said “I feel like I failed.” he looked at me and said “This is the farthest thing from failing” and he couldn’t have been more right. He told me if there was a picture of severe anxiety and depression, my picture would be above it. In a weird way, it was the affirmation I needed.

Once I got medicated I had the opportunity to give my mind a moment to rest. I never realized how tired I was until my mind got the moment to recharge. When I didn’t have to wake up every morning and fall asleep every night FIGHTING to stay afloat. I had no idea I didn’t have to feel like that all the time. I finally felt free. Liberated. Rested.

Now, today, I have officially been off full time medicine for a while. My goal was to just do what works, but ideally be able to be weened off, which I did. I still use the pills when I need to because as I have grown, I had to also zone in on what my triggers are. Which by the way, is not always the most fun thing to do. Triggers can be so small or massive, but prior to help and letting myself “reset” essentially, I could have never pin pointed the things I need to remove to make myself happier.

Helping people makes me happy. Sharing pieces of my low points so others didn’t feel crazy or alone, makes me happy.

I often pray, every day, multiple times a day. Random things from the gratefulness I am for my able (mending) body. My family and their health. Simply having food in our bellies. But lately God has been speaking to my soul. Calling for me. Showing himself in so many undeniable ways. I had a particularly great workout the other day and decided to take a quick mediation after my workout and the focus of the mediation was gratitude. I closed my eyes and the tears just started flowing and I began to talk to God. I asked him to move through me. Allow me to work for him here on earth. That however he saw fit, just use me.

Why at 32 was I just praying that from the deepest part of my soul. WHY did it take me this long to ask? Only God knew the answer. Since I have prayed to be a parcel for the Lord, he has been pouring opportunity and light into my life through some of my most lowest lows. What do I mean by that? I have had family, friends, acquaintances come to me asking how to navigate through their mental health. I have been given the opportunity to open a HUGE platform of conversation inside a community that is ACHING for this conversation for as long as I can remember.

These things have happened when I asked God to use me.

My pain is also my strength. My lowest moments in life were really just God preparing me and suiting me up with armor to be able to fight for the people around me and create a place of reprieve from something that is so, SO taboo. He is making moves through me. GOD. IS. GREAT.

In my darkest days I could have never imagined that this would be the outcome. That THIS would be my gift.

I come to you today a woman healing. To ever say I’m “recovered” would be a lie. I have days that I still get completely overwhelmed and crumble. I will forever fight my demons of anxiety and depression, I CHOOSE to fight. But I will also remind myself that sharing my journey, my pain, my weakness, is also my greatest God given gift.

If you need someone to talk to, I’m here. I won’t always have the right words. I won’t always understand your journey, but I most certainly will listen. I will love you through it. And you WILL GET THROUGH IT. Don’t ever stop fighting because you never have to do it alone. Getting help isn’t weakness. Talking about it isn’t weakness. You are just opening doors to the you that you deserve to be.