Tuesday, December 5, 2017

I have a mental illness.

Now that you know, I've become less to you. I'm weak, I'm diseased, I'm different, I'm incapable.

Since the last we've talked, I've become a different person. My once optimistic, bubbly, outgoing self has become worried, quieter, and quite honestly, sadder.

This summer, I thought I was dying. Extreme, I know, and technically we all ARE dying - so in a sense, I wasn't wrong. But the thing is, I wasn't myself. I thought I had a brain tumor or something so physically wrong with me that the end of my life was rapidly approaching.

I didn't tell anyone. The symptoms weren't physical, so who would believe me?

In August, my boyfriend Josh and I went to Ross Park Mall for an end-of-summer shopping trip. I was driving. Suddenly, my body got warm and I began to think "This is it."

I pulled over at a bank and asked Josh to drive, simply telling him I didn't feel good but would be fine to go shopping still.

I told my mom upon returning home, who told me I probably had low blood sugar at the time. It made sense to me - I didn't eat anything all day and I didn't die, so maybe I'm crazy.

The first days of September approached and I was driving back from my job at Dairy Queen when it happened again. I got home, sat in the chair and tried to take my pulse. Again, I was silent and internally freaking out. My mom sat across from me in the living room and knew something was wrong. She's got mother's intuition, of course she knew something was wrong.

Suddenly, I burst into tears, my vision went blurry, my body went numb, and I couldn't breathe.

As quickly as it came, it was over, and I went to bed.

I moved into school in September, but I still wasn't myself. A few days before moving back in, I lost all appetite. I physically could not eat anything without feeling nauseous. Anyone that knows me knows that I can EAT, but not anymore.

Naturally, my mom got worried, but off to school I went, assuring her that a change of scenery would help. I didn't want her to have to worry about me - she had a surgery of her own coming up and she went back to work.

It was later that month that I called my mom in tears because I knew something had to change. I couldn't stand not being myself anymore. I couldn't take living like I was. I'd wake up every morning thinking, "Am I okay today? Will I be able to get through today?"

We made a doctor's appointment - it was the best decision I have ever made.

In late October, I was diagnosed with anxiety - back to the whole "mental illness" thing. She said it. She said "anxiety." My thought process was similar to yours, I'm sure.

"I can't JUST have anxiety with all of these physical symptoms, right? That's a mental thing, of course I don't have anxiety. I'm not crazy, this doctor doesn't know what she's talking about."

She gave me a prescription to help me perform the mandatory functions of human life, something that became so difficult to do in the weeks and months prior.

I went home and researched this taboo term some more, and my roommate tagged me in a post on Facebook entitled "Anxiety Is An Invalid Excuse." (http://www.justcutthebullshit.com/home/2016/10/20/anxiety-is-an-invalid-excuse)

I'm not kidding when I say that that post changed my life.

After reading that, I felt liberated. I wasn't alone. Everything that I had been feeling up to this point in my life was related to in some way by at least someone. I DID have anxiety, but it is OKAY that I have anxiety.

I kept repeated it in my head. "I have anxiety. I am okay."

I also realized that having anxiety is not something that those who do not have anxiety can relate to, and that is also okay.

I have a chemical imbalance in my brain that makes me worry about everything and nothing. It doesn't matter how many times I'm reminded that I'll be okay - I'll freak out anyway.

Let me clarify when I say "worry." Stress and anxiety are two very different things. Everyone gets stressed. It's finals week here at Point Park, so I'm surrounded by it constantly.

Anxiety is an irrational amount of worry that inhibits you from performing mandatory human functions, like breathing or just socializing and being in public.

There are some days that I physically cannot get out of bed, not because I just don't want to, but because I am so overcome with worry and grief that I actually cannot pull myself out from under the covers to be in public.

I could go on for 800 pages trying to explain, but it is impossible. The article I referenced above is the closest I've ever read. I recommend you check it out if you care to know how I feel - how we feel.

It can be so lonely, because like I said, those who don't deal with anxiety truly do not know what it feels like and can't even imagine. Don't feel bad that you can't, once upon a time, I couldn't either.

I've been so fortunate to have an amazing support system behind me, and most of those people can't relate either - but again, that's okay.

To my mom - I'm okay. Yes, this sucks and it sucks a lot, but I live with it, and now, thanks to you and your support, I'm on a medication that makes it manageable. I can be the closest to my old self that I've felt in months. I know you worry about me, but I am okay and I am doing the best that I have been since you first told me that you noticed a difference in me. Thank you.

To my dad - I need to talk about it. You've been a source of venting for me that allows me to discuss the fact that I am living with it and that I CAN live with it. You are trying to understand where I'm coming from and you don't think less of me because of it. Thank you.

To my boyfriend, Josh - You deserve a medal. You've seen me at my lowest lows this year and have stuck with me through all of it. I know my parents appreciate you so so much for looking after me while I'm away from home. I don't tell you enough, but I do too. You've been vital in me becoming myself again. Thank you.

To all of you reading - I am still Allison. The term "mental illness" does not define me. I am so much more than my anxiety. I am good, I am enough, and I am thriving under the cards that I was dealt. Do not think less of me because I am different. Our differences are our biggest strengths, and I will continue to persevere.

To my anxiety - You suck. That being said, you have taught me so much. You have opened my eyes and have given me a new outlook on life. It may seem dramatic, but it's true. Thank you.

I am always here to talk. Text, email, even in the comments section (lol). I know what it's like to hold in something that was killing me inside, and it's the worst thing I could've done for myself. Talk about it.

And until we meet again,

Have a fantastic night.

Sunday, March 12, 2017

Hey guys.

It's been a while.

There's been a common theme to my thoughts lately - the ultimate existential crisis - what am I doing with my life?

I sit in the Globe's newsroom listening to music and procrastinating a paper that I have due tomorrow and I keep focusing on this question.

Everyone I seem to meet has it all figured out - a  news anchor, a sports reporter, the owner of their own advertising agency, the next Gina Catanzarite - future plans are a very common conversation topic in college.

As I was sitting here lost in thought and writing down the next week's schedule in my agenda, it was brought to my attention that I only have 7 weeks left of my freshman year at Point Park and I am still questioning every decision I have made here thus far.

I came into this school wanting to be a sports reporter, ideally sideline/color commentary, ideally hockey. As I go through my daily classes, I am beginning to realize that I have more of a passion for news than I originally thought.

I have an internship with the Butler BlueSox over the summer, and I have pretty much been handed the reins on their broadcasts with all of their new equipment and I am so excited to get my hands on it and share my ideas with those already there.

That being said, through my work behind the scenes at school, I have also realized that I really enjoy learning about all of the inner workings of broadcasts as well.

So if you were following along,  I basically like the entirety of the Comm department.

I don't know if I even want to be on-air if I'm being perfectly honest. It would be nice, but I have hurt myself in more than one way regarding that already.

My future is a complete question mark right now, and overthinking the situation has definitely not helped. Every day, I ask myself if this major, this school, this career path was the right decision for me. It's not a good feeling to think that you could've possibly wasted a year of your life on something you aren't going to pursue. I have such a love and a passion for journalism, but I just don't know if I made the right decision.

Well, while I question every decision I've ever made,

Have a fantastic night.