Depression, Anxiety, PTSD and Mama Mantis

I’ve struggled with depression, anxiety, PTSD and a few other ‘fun’ things for many years now…… as the years go, some times it’s not as bad, and sometimes it’s literally a living hell.

There are times when I’m okay…and I’ll share pieces of my story as we go….but there are other times, I literally can’t. Those phrases “I just can’t” or “I can’t even”… some days that’s literally me. I literally can’t, just can’t.

Thing is, there are people out there that think they know. They think they know what to say to make it better. They think they’re being supportive. Fellow Christian friends think Biblical quotes offer help. And so on. Problem is, this isn’t always the case. People can tell me all the good and positive things, remind me of my Christian faith and scriptures that go along with hardship/anxiety/faith/doubt…. but the reality is at my worst moment, I can’t see it. It doesn’t matter that I’ve been screaming (sometimes literally, sometimes just in my head and heart) at God to bring me peace, to calm my heart, to help my spirit find a way not to be anxious…. some times, I just am. I’m anxious. I’m depressed. PTSD debilitates me in a way I can’t explain to anyone, no matter how close we are.

These mental health situations are difficult…. it’s not simple. No one is the same. It’s not like the common cold by any stretch. Thing is, you are NOT sick. This is not a disease in the sense that you definitely “get better” with treatment. Sometimes you do, sometimes you don’t. It’s not simple to diagnose. No test is so simple to just say “yeah, that’s it, this is how we treat it.” Mental health… can’t be caught. It’s not contagious, though some issues are genetic. There is no easy fix. Some people can manage…and others, well, their demons win. If this were a ‘normal’ disease, the demons wouldn’t win. Ever.

I did not choose the things that happened to me…..I did not choose to be an domestic abuse survivor (physical, emotional, and mental). I did not choose for people to betray me in the most severe ways (more to come). I did not choose for the bully to set my bushes on fire, almost causing my house to catch fire (had it not been for a good samaritan and a call box down the street when I was in 3rd/4th grade)…..and so much more. If I got to choose, none of these things would be on my list. The woman who was raped. The Marine who watched their best friend get blown up next to them. The child bullied. No one chooses these things. Even the service member, police officer, fire fighter, NICU nurse…. even though they choose a ‘risky’ profession, they don’t choose it for the potential horror…they choose it to save people. They choose it because someone has to, and they have a passion for serving others in this way. They don’t choose it to see people blown up, people shot, people crushed by a burning support beam, baby just too young to be born despite the fight and medical advancements……that’s not why they choose it….and even with that risk, they don’t choose to experience those things. Even though they are aware these things may happen, they don’t choose for it to happen…it’s a risk they take each day. And while you can’t really compare your struggle to others’ struggles, those of us who struggle with depression, anxiety, PTSD and/or other mental health situations…..we don’t choose it. We don’t wake up wanting to feel like crap or like the world is choking us.

In fact, many who experience life this way feel ashamed. Embarrassed. Unworthy. That’s the thing about this…. we each struggle with it, but the struggle *is not* the same. My struggle is not the same as the next person who experiences depression, anxiety, and/or PTSD. The soldier’s struggle is no where near my struggle. The woman raped does not experience the same struggle and the NICU mom/dad who just watched their baby die. These become mental health situations because that’s what they are…situations that have caused our mental health to be tackled in some way, even destroyed in some cases.

It doesn’t matter how you see us…what matters is that’s how we feel. When I was bullied as a child, I was embarrassed, felt like it was my fault (that I must have somehow done something to cause the person to treat me in that manner) and I didn’t think any one would believe me anyway….so I kept it under my hat, so to speak. And then one year this boy decided that he couldn’t stand that I didn’t want to be his girlfriend …. y’all, I was in 3rd/4th grade, this boy was in 5th grade….and I knew nothing about actually being a girlfriend anyhow. But come on… boys were icky then. But this boy took offense. Once the school year started, many that I shouldn’t talk to him at all. I thought that was silly because why should you just ignore someone. That was rude, right???? Well, as it turned out… I should have ignored him. Truthfully, this boy wouldn’t have given two farts…he would’ve done whatever he wanted to get the attention he thought he should have, no matter the cost. Turns out the cost was almost setting my house on fire. I lived next to the school…this boy knew that. He watched me go home countless times over the summer. Even tried to walk me home a couple times, and I wouldn’t let him…. but he could still see where I ended up. I was young. Boys were still icky to me. But I should have done more, right? I mean, I should have known, right? Or not.

This boy, he didn’t care. He thought I should care about him, thought I should want to be his girlfriend no matter how I felt about boys in general. He ended up setting some bushes on fire…pricker bushes….so they were dry and burned slow thankfully. My mother and I were sitting down to dinner and I kept smelling smoke/fire. My mother kept telling me I was just smelling things or it was a neighbor since it was summer and all. Turns out, this boy had taken a lighter to the pricker bushes and set them on fire….. they lined the fence line almost all the way up to the house. That side of the house also had lilac bushes which would have gone up in a second, had the fire actually reached them. The bushes were pretty much fully engulfed before the fire department arrived (oddly enough, they literally were around the block and had an incredible response time). The only reason anyone knew of the fire is because some good samaritan up the street saw and used the call box to call the fire department (do you remember call boxes???). If it weren’t for that person, my home might have gone up in flames, at least part of it anyhow. And I’d imagine my issues would be far bigger than they are.

For years, I didn’t even think of this event. Literally — it had been like 20+ years….and one day, in addition to some other things, this event came flooding back…among other things, it dawned on me that maybe that’s why I can smell smoke/fire even when there is just a hint of it in the air. Maybe that’s why bonfires aren’t necessarily fun for me. Maybe that’s why the instant I smell any kind of smoke smell I’m looking for the source, even if it’s as innocent as a cook out (though this heightened sense did help one time when lightning took out a tree…saved a home by calling the fire department as soon as smoke was smelt, before flames could be seen). Any way you look at it…that was traumatic for me. Not just because of that event itself maybe, but because the boy didn’t care what happened….destruction, and even death, could have resulted had the fire gone unchecked……but it didn’t matter to him. We weren’t physically harmed by the fire thankfully, but it doesn’t change the fact that it didn’t matter to him. What happened, happened…..good or bad, in his eyes, it didn’t matter.

My journey with anxiety, depression, PTSD and the rest is far longer than I ever knew….as I dive more in, I find other things, recognize them for what really happened….like the fire incident.

Mental situations hold those who suffer with them hostage…..truly. People like me, we over-analyze things. We wonder if what you say is true. We watch your actions (or lack of). Always waiting for the shoe to drop. Always running a variety of scenarios in our heads…playing out every possible way a situation can turn out…and of course, hanging on to the worst version, fearing it will play out that way.

Something I’ve been told about myself…I’m incredibly good at “figuring” people. I have insanely good instincts about people. I can tell if someone will be good at a job, for example. While it’s a strength on one hand, it’s a curse on another. I’m insanely good at it…I’ve only been wrong less than a handful of times. It makes me the best and worst friend at once. I’m the best friend/worst enemy gal people dream of. I don’t mean that to be all conceited or whatever…I mean that to say, I know people. Too well. There has only been a time or two that someone truly pulled one over on me. Sometimes I just let it happen because it’s easier than being “that bitch” that knew. Sometimes I just want to be a friend and have a friend, so it’s easier to ignore when I feel something is ‘off.’ Some times I just want to be ‘normal.’ Anyone who knows me knows I’m sooooo far from normal.

If you’ve hung with me this far, thank you ….. It’s not easy to read someone’s raw struggles. And I tend to get over-explainy sometimes. Part of why I started this blog is to help others….to let others know they are NOT alone, NOT crazy….and that it’s okay to be afraid. It’s okay to be afraid to share your journey with others. Let’s be honest, people can be cruel. And when you’re dealing with some of the harder times in your mental health journey, it can be hard to reach out to others because you’re worrying about how they’ll see you, how they’ll judge you, fearing you’ll be left alone because people don’t want to ‘deal’ with you. Just remember, while it’s okay to be afraid, you DON’T have to stay that way. It’s taken be years to…embrace…the issues I have. And it’s still a daily struggle most times. But being afraid of what others think isn’t going to help me…I have to be okay with me….others don’t. So if you’re afraid too, hang on to that thought. Use it to help you get through the harder days — you have to be okay with you. Other’s don’t. They don’t have to live your life. Take it day by day…hour by hour if you have to.

Lesson from Mama Mantis

I know there are many times we learn about coping, perseverance, overcoming…. and all the things I’ve ever been taught about all that still hangs in my mind. But over the summer, watching Mama Mantis, it occurred to me that even such a small creature like her is smart, strong, persistent….stubborn even. I watched her hang on to sunflower petals swinging in the breeze, just to climb over to the other side of the sunflower to weather out the wind. She’d hide under the sunflower petals to keep dry in the rain. Watching how determined she was to get to exact place she wanted to lay her last batch of eggs….she wouldn’t take the help she was given until she just couldn’t get from one spot to the next spot she intended to go to without it. She reminds me of me sometimes. I detest asking people for help. It makes me feel weak, it makes me feel inadequate. It just makes me feel….less. But here was this crazy praying mantis that was just as stubborn as me, and when she ‘just couldn’t’ anymore, she finally accepted the help. She finally realized she couldn’t do it alone. Even though it took just one person’s actions to help her, she got the help she needed. If she can do it, I can do it, you can do it. Allowing others to help isn’t a weakness. Allowing others to help, helps you. So hang in there….”just keep swimming, just keep swimming….” persevere, be stubborn…..but be open to accepting help from others when you need it and someone can help you.