If you’re reading this, it’s probably because you know me personally or like my writing enough to follow. It also means that you know I’m about to make some big ‘ol life changes. Just in case you’re new here, the cliffs notes version is: I’m starting grad school, moving to Connecticut with the hubs and pup (when I’ve spent 33 years comfortably staying in my corner of the world [and have literally never even visited the East Coast]), and I’m leaving my friends, family, and nephews…who are my actual world…here in L.A. This is happening in 12 days.
On paper, it’s a pretty standard change, and one that is hardly unique. In my lived experience – it’s a fucking lot. I’m known for my candor, so if you’re in the mood for something less complicated, I’d save this read for another day. Social media is not exactly known for authenticity, but there are voices and content creators who are attempting a cultural shift. Let’s keep that train moving. Let’s talk about the debilitating and super inconvenient reality of mental illness.
Depression & Her Sidekick: Anxiety
We know them (and if you’re a Millennial like me: we know them well). Some folks have better relationships with them than others. Some of us are in long-term toxic relationships that are biologically inescapable. Me and mine are life-partners and have been going to therapy for years in order to live in occasional harmony. A quick credit to Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and modern science for its contributions to a-typical neurotransmitters: life is exceedingly better than it used to be and on a scale from 1 to “I have my shit together”, I mostly have my shit together…on most days…sometimes…more than I used to…things are so much better. I promise.
Here’s the thing: Major Depressive Disorder and General Anxiety Disorder are going to be dicks when you make big changes and leave everything you know thousands of miles away. It’s just how it is. The tools you’ve developed in therapy will come in handy, and you’ll be okay. You’ll have good days and recognize thought distortions and be able to ground yourself in order to sit with the excitement of all that you’ve accomplished, and all that you, and your little family of three, have to look forward to. AND…there will be other days. You’ll forget to take your meds (two days in a row) and be stuck in a cycle of “I hate my neurotransmitters…it’s all their fault…oh my god…I’m so irresponsible and my poor neurotransmitters!” You’ll sleep approximately 2-3 hours a night, despite having gone to bed at 10pm. You’ll get up for work 5 minutes before you have to log into zoom and pray that no one notices the oil in your hair or the day-old makeup on your face. Later, you’ll take a 3-hour, midday nap and wake up feeling useless. If you have other life-partners by the name of chronic pain or other invisible/autoimmune diseases – you’ll have a flareup – and it’s going to be bad. The heating pad and Flexeril won’t do shit. The gummy you got from your sister will have the effect of an actual piece of candy. You’ll feel suuuuuuper betrayed by your body and therefore not take care of it at all. You’ll get in a fight with your husband and burst into tears because of the box he chose to use to pack up the kitchen, and you’ll watch a lot of classic Disney movies while you work, because it reminds you of being a kid and not having to make adult decisions. Before I wrap this up – you’ll probably overspend while online shopping and feel an immense amount of buyer’s remorse for having self-medicated by way of capitalism. I’m not saying that I do these things…I’m just saying…it’s possible. You know…for some people. The very specific examples don’t indicate a thing…
It Sucks and…
It sucks AND we’ll be okay. It sucks and we clearly have a loving and supportive village who will keep us grounded and connected, otherwise we wouldn’t be so overwhelmed by leaving them. It sucks AND it’s all temporary. The good…the bad…the in between…it all has an end point. The adventure will begin and we’ll feel proud and accomplished and worthy for a while, and then your brain will say, “hey. fuck you”, and we’ll keep on living this colorful, complex, and beautiful life.
Evan, Jax and I will go on our road trip and have a blast. I’ll cry and miss my people and so will my husband. We’ll hold each other and support each other and make our new house a home, and we’ll zoom and visit and all the things. I just wanted to tell you that if you don’t have your shit together right now – me either. If you somehow thought that I did (based on any happy photo or announcement of academic success) I promise you I don’t. I smile and laugh when I can, and share happy memories because it makes me feel good…but I don’t have my shit together. I don’t think we’re ever supposed to. Sit with whatever you’re feeling, then take the meds…drink the water…go to the session…sing the song…write the journal…tell the friend. Just keep going and have compassion for yourself when you’re slow about it.