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I Am Always Here When You Need Me

I always say the same thing. I'm going to try to write more regularly. I'm going to do a better job of updating you on my life. I'm going to worry less, live more, be better, write more transparently, share more of what's in my mind, etc. But if I'm being real, I can't do that anymore. At least... not right now. 

I've been going through some shit. Some serious shit. I'm admitting that things I experienced were traumatic to me when for forever, I'd shrugged them off. 

Medically, since May I haven't been okay. I've been in doctors' offices every week or couple weeks, having surgeries, getting no answers, continuing to get blood draws, going back in for follow-ups and still hearing doctors tell me, "We still don't know what's happening." I'm pretty calm about most things, but when I have zero idea about what's happening in my own body that's making me sick and causing me pain... my brain goes to worst case scenario. 

I had a panic attack a few weeks ago that ended me up in the emergency room at 9 p.m. The doctors prescribed me anti-anxiety medication and gave me one while I was sitting with them, trying to get everything figured out. The next day I had an appointment with my regular doctor to get on antidepressants and a future appointment with a psychiatrist just to talk. Because let's face it, emergency room nurses weren't ready for me. For the record, I am on antidepressants now. I am still on anxiety medicine. I take 11 pills a day, and that's just to feel normal. 

"This is bullshit," I told my boyfriend the other night. "It takes 11 pills a day for me to feel okay." 

"The important thing though," he told me, "is that you're feeling okay." 

Because for a very long time, I haven't been. And for a very long time, I was denying it. I was pretending it wasn't real. I was trying to tough it out. I was trying to be "brave" through it. I've since learned that the bravest thing a person can do sometimes is to just get some f***ing help. Professional help. Help from family. Help because the help is there, if you can admit that you need it. 

So he's right. As much as I hate to say it. ;)

I texted my dad to come and get me from my apartment the other night for the first time in two and a half years. He showed up at my door 15 minutes later, got me in the car, talked to me on the way to his house, introduced me to his girlfriend, offered me a drink, laughed with me when I made jokes, held me when I cried, talked to me about what we could do to get my medicine refilled, and then drove me back home when I was ready. 

There's a lot of things I could say about that. About what it meant. About the instant weight off my shoulders. The mixed feelings, the confidence, the everything. When my dad dropped me off at home, he told me to update him when I followed up with my doctor and I did.

It's been nothing but healing since. I never wanted to get on pills, and now that I am, I'm infinitely grateful for them and for the people who were there to help me get them. I'm grateful for my doctor, who complimented my FRIENDS mask and told me she'd order one for herself. I'm grateful for my parents who showed up when I needed them. I'm grateful for journals that have been guiding me through my own brain lately. I'm grateful for Taylor Swift releasing a new album when I needed it most. I'm grateful for a new opportunity at work to make more of a difference in the lives of children who need someone to advocate for them. I'm grateful for my dog and his endless, relentless energy. I'm grateful for good doctors and drip coffee dates with my best friend. I'm grateful for weekend glasses of whiskey and coke. I'm grateful for happy mail from my mama - note cards with her familiar handwriting and smiley faces and reminders that I'm not on my own. 




A day of mental health medication. No, I don't want to take it. I don't like being on it. But it is helping tremendously and as someone who put it off and was too stubborn to get on it for far too long, I feel very lucky to have it.


The little things are starting to mean more and more. Maybe it's because I'm getting older, maybe it's because I'm just now finally appreciating them. Either way, I'm glad they led me to this moment. I'm sitting here writing with my dog at my feet, sprawled out with the sun shining in on him from the open windows. My boyfriend is playing on his PS5 and I'm writing. It's quiet, and there's a fall candle burning, and we just polished off a big bowl of popcorn. 

Peace is something there hasn't been much of in the last few weeks. Months, even. But it's here now, and I think this is a good place to stop writing and to just be present. 

Thank you for reading and for being here. Thank you for being you, and for being in my life, and for setting good examples. Thank you for working hard, loving harder, laughing beautifully, living fully. 

I hope you continue to do that. And I hope I can continue to witness it. I am always here when you need me. 

Note to self: I am always here when you need me.















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