It's Getting Easier (Part Four)

I'll admit it: 2009 felt like a "get out a jail free" card for me. I felt like I had escaped and everything was okay. I had my plans all set out for the next year: I was moving into my own apartment, I'd get promoted again and get tuition reimbursement, I'd go back to school and everything would be perfect. I felt independent, but only because I thought independence came from a false sense of financial security and having a real job. I thought happiness came from external goals and accomplishments.
I moved into my apartment, I got promoted, but it didn't take long before I started to feel trapped again. My job seemed like a dead-end, I suddenly realized it wouldn't be long before I'd start running out of money, and my plan seemed like a failure. I felt the anger building up inside, once again, and every moment I was a moment closer to snapping. How was it that, yet again, what I thought I wanted wasn't what I wanted at all?
To differentiate my college woes from my job woes, my only regret with my job was that I didn't leave sooner. Whereas I know my initial problems with school were more emotional than anything, my problems at my job were real and I have no regrets in leaving. The experience was invaluable, but it wasn't my passion at all. If there's anything I regret, it's that I allowed myself to lose focus on my goals so easily. I'm thankful for the learning experience and I can't deny that my resume got quite the boost at a young age, but I wasn't ready for it.
The way I chose to handle my problems was always worse than the problems themselves. I spent a great deal of time before leaving my job crying, whether it was in the parking lot or in my apartment. A significant amount of time was also spent in the bathroom, getting rid of whatever I had last eaten. I didn't think I was depressed; I swore it was the circumstance - a familiar viewpoint for me.
When I left my job, I knew it was time to make some changes. I felt free and vowed to live my life healthier - I started working out again, taking vitamins, and eating much healthier. I thought all was well and if this part of the story seems terribly familiar that's because it is. Repetitive though it may seem, I've learned that my struggles with depression aren't that unusual. I'm not the only one who has gone through periods of sadness and anxiety, swearing they'd stop if my circumstances changed. I developed a terrible habit of relying on some far-off goal to sustain my happiness and blaming some unforeseen disappointment for why I felt so sad and empty.
My twenty-first birthday was supposed to be my pivotal turning point. I was going to be in amazing shape, my hair was going to be long and luxurious, I'd be back in school, I'd be able to drink legally of course, and I'd have a great celebration with all of my friends. All of my problems would melt away and I'd feel complete at last. My twenty-first birthday was a very pivotal day for me; it was within two weeks of turning twenty-one that I finally recognized, admitted, and sought help for my problems with depression and anxiety.

Posted in: anxiety, depression, mental health, struggles