Living the Half Full Life

After 2 years, lots of tears and debate, and SO MUCH GROWTH, I graduated therapy last week! My dear therapist wanted to play me graduation music, but that is not quite how it works. But it does mean I have finally been able to take the tools I have been given and take care of myself. Yes, I still have small bouts of anxiety and depression, but your girl can find ways to manage it MUCH better. 

In our last appointment, my therapist and I reflected over the things we talked about and what I have learned over the last year. So I would like to put some of those reflections here. This post will be more of a reflection/ narrative, but I hope that in some of the biggest lessons I learned going through therapy, anyone reading can find ways they could improve their own life and mental health. 

In one of my first appointments with my therapist, he asked me what my life would look like if therapy was successful. To be honest, I didn’t even know. I was feeling so dark at the time, it seemed unrealistic for the depression to ever be gone completely. I wanted for it to be gone completely. To feel light in my life again, the kind I would feel as a little kid who was so excited to see the Christmas tree up-that’s what I wanted back in my life. However, was that realistic to expect? 

For what felt like an eternity it wasn’t realistic. I felt dependent on other people’s opinions, such as friends and family that my life was worth living. That I was worth something. I just could not see it myself. And you know, it can be quite tiring just living compliment to compliment. I went to therapy and made an attempt to take care of myself because I didn’t want to disappoint or hurt the people who cared about me.

But after time it became important for me to take care of myself. I can’t even explain what changed. I would keep going to therapy. I would do the little exercises like catching my negative thoughts when they happened, and trying to physically rewrite them (oh how I hated writing those thoughts out and dealing with them). I tried talking about it to people so they could help me get out of my rabbit holes.

But, gosh, how I hated asking for help. It was so embarrassing to talk about things I felt like I should not be feeling. My life was fine, I had my basic needs met, going to college and living the college life. Others had it much worse and seemed to be doing much better than me. So why was I like that? 

So one of my first real lessons: vulnerability. I have discussed in previous blog posts how I began therapy both on my mission for my church, and at college:

 I was dragged, kicking and screaming. 

(Only partly kidding.) 

I had people who cared about me and noticed something was up. And there were a couple moments when my walls cracked a little bit. My facade of “I am fine, everything is fine” started to glitch (think Vanellope von Schweetz from Wreck-it-Ralph kind of glitch). And then those people who noticed were like, “Girlfriend, you need some HELP.” 

Let’s be honest, I knew I needed help. I was so lost as to why I was so sad all the time. That was not normal. But did I want to admit that I had no clue how to handle my emotions-like my 6 year old brother?! Um, no thanks. I would rather just hope it all went away and continue living my life as a lie. (Yes, I also felt like there was a crazy lady in my head constantly talking me out of therapy). 

But there got to a time where I simply could not handle it alone anymore. Keeping it all to myself was unbearable. So I told a trusted friend simply that I needed help. 

And I slowly began to change. 

The feedback I received  was surprisingly refreshing. I felt like I finally did not have to carry that burden alone. It felt freeing. Freeing in the way where it felt like I hit rock bottom, I could not go lower, and knew the journey was only up from there.  

“I need help” was probably the hardest part. It was hard to go and be open about feelings I was ashamed of to a complete stranger. I had to admit that I was not the happy person I tried to be, not only to that stranger, but even more difficult: myself.

You know that feeling you get when you finally feel like you can be your complete self around another person? When they know you are a little psycho but they are ok with that? I started to feel like that but with myself. 

Okay, yes, I am not happy all the time. I learned to be okay with that.

I can get really triggered by the words and actions of other people and it doesn’t slide off my back as quickly as I want it to. Well, I am human, so that is normal. 

I get panic attacks at unpreferable moments. Not fun, but I can get through that. 

I have a depressive disorder that makes me feel incapacitated at times? I can work with that. 

It reminds me of some neat little graffiti on the side of a dumpster the other day:

I can’t tell you why this Pinterest-style motivational quote was put on the side of a dumpster, of all places, but it really strikes a chord with me. Feeling shame like I did about my emotions only led to increased pain, not healing. Being honest and open not only to others, but myself was one of my first lessons I learned from therapy.

Which leads me to the next lesson: emotions are necessary. All of them. The happy ones, and the sad ones. As the saying goes, it is okay to not always be okay. Some days, life just really donkey kicks you in the throat and you need to take some time to cry, eat some ice cream, and watch a funny movie or TV show. 

There were quite a few times throughout therapy where I would start to feel a little better, and then a bit of stress would send me back to my sad, panicked state. I would get so mad at myself for feeling like that. I had been going to therapy, doing what I should, so WHY was it not working? 

Truth is, I was trying to control my emotions instead of listening to them and using them to take care of myself. 

My therapist recommended a workbook to me called “Don’t Let Your Emotions Run Your Life” by Scott E. Spradlin. It opened my eyes to the purpose of emotions. They are like hunger or pain—they are feedback you get from your body in response to your environment. Like in the days of hunting and gathering, if someone saw a bear, they would feel fear, and do what they could to get away. The fear would protect them.

The same goes for other basic emotions. Anger tells you to fight or protect, love tells you to show it and improve your life, and sadness tells you to slow down and heal or get help. Emotions are healthy.

When I understood this concept, my life became so much more understandable. I allowed myself to feel what I felt and addressed my needs based on those feelings. When I was sad, I took time to feel sad, but I took care of it. Like taking a nap, watching a couple episodes of my favorite TV show, or eating some comfort food (sometimes all three). When I was lonely, I would try to reach out to others; whether it be through facetime, a phone call, or making plans with someone. 

Sometimes I would take time to reconnect with myself to help with the loneliness. I would go on walks or bike rides and get to know the city I live in better. I visited local shops and restaurants, or even just went to the mall by myself. Those moments honestly helped me understand who I am better. What Maddie prefers to do, what things Maddie likes. And it helped me love myself more. I began to appreciate the one person I will be stuck with my entire life. 

Me. 

Which brings me to one of my last big lessons I learned from therapy: 

Self respect. 

For so long I have lived my life being one of the biggest people pleasers. I didn’t want to be vulnerable because I didn’t want to give anyone the chance to judge or dislike a part of who I am. I hated showing emotions that would make others feel uncomfortable. I just wanted to be happy all the time so everyone could feel happy and comfortable around me. 

To quote Taylor Swift, “Stupid girl, I should have known, should have known.”

Other people will feel all different types of emotions too. No one is going to be happy all the time, and I cannot make everyone happy just by being happy. So if everyone else has a right to feel what they feel, why shouldn’t I? 

And so, Maddie took care of herself like she would someone she was responsible to take care of. 

I was working at a mental hospital this last summer when I really started to understand that. 

At the hospital, we made sure people would eat. There was one patient that I would literally have to grab by the hands and pull them out of bed (or their recliner) to come to meals. I had to be incredibly persistent. So I would do the same with myself. Sometimes I did not want to eat (mental issues do that to you sometimes, the jerks), but I would make myself food and eat anyways. 

At the hospital we tried to provide people with as much support as possible. I learned how to play lots of card games (Skip-Bo was my favorite) and would play with the patients to help them feel less lonely and spice up their life a bit. As I mentioned before, I would find support for myself, be it through friends, family, or me. I did that cheesy movie thing where I would stand in front of the mirror and give myself a pump up session. Usually I would laugh at myself, but hey, at least I was laughing. 

At the hospital, if one patient was causing harm to another patient, be it verbal or physical, you would protect them from that other patient. I had to understand which friends were helpful to my life, and which ones were better as acquaintances, or even to be left in the past. This is a hard decision to make, especially to a people pleaser. But as soon as I was able to respect myself and my boundaries more, I knew what I needed to do to live a healthier and happier life. I learned I needed people who were reliable, supportive, and made me feel good about myself when I was with them. People who inspired me to be a better person. And for some reason, there were people I kept trying to make a place for in my life that were not good for my mental health. I felt like I was begging for their love, and kept getting hurt when they would say they cared, but their actions did not show it. So I decided to let them go. 

Doing all of this made me feel empowered. I really am capable of so much more than I ever gave myself credit for. And when my last therapy session was approaching, I realized I didn’t need it anymore. There is nothing more to talk about. I have my life under control. 

When I started therapy, I was expecting to be attending sessions for most of my adult life. Getting better was a hope, not a reality. 

But I learned that change is possible. It took a lot of physical, emotional, even spiritual effort. A lot of tears. A lot of making bad decisions to know what the good decisions were. A lot of patience with myself. But I can say I changed. For the first time in a long time, I can say I have confidence in myself. And not the fake it til you make it kind, but a sense of balance and comfort in who I am. 

I can still feel the depression and anxiety sometimes when life gets stressful, or I am tired or hungry. But now I know I am stronger, and can use my coping mechanisms to live a much happier, and better quality life than before. 

Many people are apprehensive about therapy. I am biased, but I think just a few sessions could change anyone’s life. 

Could I have learned these lessons on my own? 

Possibly. 

I don’t know whether or not I would have found the vulnerability I need without it. Or my understanding of my emotions. And I was so tired of living life not caring about myself. 

So to paraphrase Robert Frost: I took a road I didn’t want to travel. 

And that made all the difference.