FIRST OF ALL, I think it is vital for everyone to talk about mental health. We are all affected one way or another by the effects of mental sufferings. Whether it is ourselves who do the daily suffering, even if perhaps only for a brief time. Or we know someone who has or is currently dealing with some sort of mental health disorder and is in need of help or someone to talk to. It is nothing to be ashamed of or to hide from the ones we love, as society in the past may have taught us otherwise. We need to continue to encourage discussion and offer support so no one else suffers alone or is lost in silence. I hope my being candid may inspire just that.

     I have always been an athlete. Sports through high school and a gym rat in college. However, being diagnosed with bipolar 1, OCD, extreme anxiety and just recently discussions of PTSD, my fitness journey would prove just as difficult as my search for stability in my mental health. Looking back on it now, my wisdom is teaching me that both are a constant fight. But anything so vital is worth fighting for and working hard for. 

     I was on and off medications all through college as I did not yet have the capacity to grasp the severity of my diagnosis, how it controlled every aspect of my world in ways I could not yet see or fathom and how it continued to destroy everything I would fight so hard to build, including pieces of myself. I had an extremely abusive relationship with food and alcohol and used them to cope with my mania, depression and anxiety, as well as the fall outs. If I lost weight, just like my mental stability, it did not last very long. I spent many years re-starting my life over and over again and clawing my way through early adulthood, still unsure of how I survived (literally). At 26, after the worst depressive state I had ever experienced, I realized if I did not get serious help, I would not live to see 27.

     It took over 10 years to find the right medication. And I’ll use the term “right” loosely, as tweaks will always need to be made and issues will always come up. I fought to get my mind balanced and healthier with my psychiatrist and years of therapy. I knew that if wanted to see change, if I wanted to find the peace I was so desperately seeking all those years, to finally be able to breathe…I had to do the work. So, I did. I didn’t want to just “survive” anymore. I wanted to live!

     It was constant work, but boy was it worth it! (In case anyone is wondering, it STILL is constant work and I know it will always be. I’m okay with that.) I had finally found an incredible partner, I had been on my healthy mental track for a good while and had gotten sober. I was finally in a great place to start a family. We soon found out I had some infertility issues which, as a younger woman, is another issue that I believe we do not discuss enough or prepare our girls enough for. The concept never even crossed my mind. We are always reassured, “when we have children…” As devastating as this was, I could not have made it through like I did, and our lives would not have turned out the way they were supposed to, without the amazing husband that I had.