I posted this on March 3rd.
On March 6th TheMightySite reached out and asked my permission for them to post it on their account. One year ago I would still be in the hospital fist bumping the mental health workers as they told me I shouldn't worry, and I'd be out soon enough because I was working hard, participating in group, and doing what I was told.
The amount of comments I have received on both of my accounts have been overwhelming. Strangers from other blog accounts, people I went to high school with, people that are still in high school, people I am now in college with- all reaching out with a message or a commented heart emoji.
It is overwhelming to me. People from various ages and backgrounds. I appreciate how people see the good and the worth in it over all the craziness.
I received an email last night from a girl from Canada, who will be celebrating her "1 year" in October 2017. She was surprised at how much she related to myINFJ post and wondered if I had brought it up to a counselor/therapist because the "type is prone to depression."
I thought about it. It seems complicated, and difficult to understand. Of course, I put in the effort to decipher what exactly those letters mean and how they affect me. How do I help someone else understand though? At the same time, there is no need to be ashamed of who I am, so finding ways to manage its weaknesses wouldn't be such a bad thing. We all have our own.
"Prone to depression" shouldn't mean I will just be depressed, because my personality type says as an empath I overwhelm and burn out easily. It is a "heads up" so I can work on these things so I: do not get burnt out, I can learn self care young, and so I can do a field perfect for me, like social work.
As a kid, my happiest times were when my head was in the clouds.
I guess I was different. I wasn't commonly seen having friends over playing basketball or braiding each other's hair. I liked being with friends, but sometimes I just couldn't wait to be home. I loved to be outside, in the woods, alone. Maybe it was considered "weird" to have the woods as your best company. Maybe it was weird to pretend a certain open space was your home and picturing where your bedroom would be and what it would look like there. Maybe it was weird to talk to yourself as you wandered.
All I know is that when I think back, I remember being very happy.
I grew up, I had bigger things to focus on, and I spent less time daydreaming.
The me that I know best, craves the outdoors, craves alone time, and craves wide open spaces to sing in. I have been working on bringing that back into my life. While home on spring break I asked my step-sister to go hiking with me. She looked at me like I was crazy. "Hiking?" "It's 34 degrees out.."
I told her I was going with or without her. I had to promise her a hot chocolate to get her to come, but I was happy with the company.
I just remember thinking..I should do this more. My childhood home was so convenient for me. If I got mad or sad I could just walk straight through my backyard into the woods and that was what I needed to walk back in with a smile again.
That is my new goal: Spend more time in nature.
I have officially reached a full year of personal growth, and I can not explain the feeling.
Before spring break I met with my campus counselor one last time. We talked about my confidence and where the self doubt comes from. Maybe there isn't a particular reason for where it came from, but I do know it'll be great to have someone guide me as I work on accepting my (sensitive, old) soul, whatever you call it.
She's going to push me a bit, but I'm ready. All of this time I have been learning how to manage the anxiety and the depression, the family issues and such. The root of my mental health struggles has always been my self esteem even as a 4 year old in preschool. I guess I didn't think "confidence" was the biggest issue of mine to bring up in therapy. Now that things have dialed down, I can go back to working on the piece of me that has always been there deep inside.
I left that appointment so happy, I called my mom. I was so proud of myself, and I had to tell her that. I was proud that I brought it up. It was in writing, but it still opened a conversation. I pushed past my fear that it wasn't important or it was stupid or other crazy thoughts I had about it. Finally I could walk out with a smile and comfort knowing the next time I go back I will have some hope.
When I was in the hospital, they saw me differently than the other kids. I had dreams, I wanted a future. I spoke of wanting to be a social worker and they could see that I had good qualities. I remember the one thing they said brought me to that place.. my confidence. I was scared, and I didn't think I could do it.
Now that I know I can, I can take steps back and work on digging through the beliefs I have planted inside me.
A Boston social work student, using writing for healing. Sharing the peaks and valleys of an empath's mental health journey.