Getting Up

With the end of summer, traveling, and the start of school, I’ve been away for a while. As always, I’ve spent some time thinking of the best, big idea to return to the blog on, but then something real and difficult and frustrating happened and all of my good ideas flew out the window. So I thought why don’t I write about the real, difficult, frustrating thing because it’s probably more interesting anyway.

I’ve talked about my anxiety disorder before here and I’m pretty open about it in general. I straight up don’t have time for people who get weird about mental health anymore, I’m too busy dealing with my mental health.

Saturday, my birthday, was a rough anxiety day. It was a reminder that anxiety isn’t just panic attacks, sometimes it’s nondirectional crying mixed with apathy into a total inability to get out of bed. Because I tend toward nervousness and panic, I forget about this side of it, the debilitating side.

We are such a go-go-go culture and I am such a goal oriented person, that Saturday (along with all of the similar days before it) took a real shame-toll. I laid in bed and berated myself, told myself I couldn’t do anything, that I would never be better no matter how hard I worked. I needed to run ten miles, my last long training run before the half marathon and all I could tell myself was I couldn’t do it.

About four hours in, I got out of bed, I put on my running clothes, I washed my face and brushed my teeth and I ran ten miles. All of this happened because of years of therapy. It happened because of the circle of support I’ve found in my partner and my friends. It happened because of the journaling and confronting and meditation that I didn’t want to do but did anyway. It happened because of all the times before this that it didn’t happen. This time I got up.

Why am I telling you all of this? Because I’m proud of myself? Sure. Because it was a milestone both in my mental and physical abilities? Yeah. But mostly it’s because I know there are so many people out there who haven’t been able to get up yet and I hope that even one is reading this.

If you are there right now, in that dark place, know that it’s ok if you can’t get up and it’s ok if you can. That there is no failure in any day you can get through. You are not a failure.

So, with that, I’m back. I’m a little bit of a mess, but I’m back.

Best of luck.

** Please feel free to leave stories of all sorts, encouragement for others, or anything else in the comments and if you need a chat, email me at**

Getting Up (1)


5 thoughts on “Getting Up

  1. Now I know why you are so wise beyond your years! I had similar experiences probably when I was about your age. Even now, some 40+ years later after working my way out of that dark hole through therapy, I still have occasional relapses that seem to be ameliorated through science/drugs, which probably were developed in the interim. Anyway, it’s really admirable that you are sharing your roller coaster mental health ride, which I would not have had the courage to do at your age. Fortunately for all of us, the state of mental health care and acceptance has come a long way in the last 40 years. For example, sharing a memoir vignette in a writing class with fellow students my age re some of the low self esteem issues I had in my youth and still struggle with occasionally (Thanks, Mom) was well-accepted and certainly identified with by several of my fellow students who appeared to me to be way beyond the issue but openly confessed that they were not.


  2. Thank you for this. I’m having one of those DAYS right now and this was just perfect. I’m so glad you have come so far and have so much to offer the world. Keep your head high and thank you, for helping us keep our heads high as well.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I relate 100%. Before I left for my study abroad program in Spain, I was freaking out. All summer, I was so worried I was going to forget something important while packing or I was gonna run out of money — nothing calmed my nerves. I was a huge mess, so I confided in one of my favorite people to talk to about the world: my boyfriend’s mom. As my mom passed away, she’s kind of stepped in & helped fill that void. I talked to her about the way I was feeling, and how I couldn’t get through the days/nights without suffering from panic attacks. I had to get up and physically leave my house or else I would just completely break down. It was an awful period in my life, so I went to her to ask her for help. The response I got was anything BUT help. It was pure judgment. She told me that I needed to stop stressing about unnecessary things, and that if I was really having such a hard time getting things together for this trip, I just shouldn’t go. She came down hard on me, and finally asking if she thought maybe talking to my doctor would help so I could get a sedative for when my panic attacks set in, she COMPLETELY flipped. I love this woman to death, and would never ever bash her. But her response completely broke my heart. She was against my idea and accused me of being drug-seeking. She thought that if I really needed help, I should just stay home and see a therapist instead of going on a life-changing semester abroad in a beautiful European country (that costs less than my regular college tuition). It sucked, and I eventually went against her judgment & spoke to my doctor anyway. She prescribed me the lowest dose of a sedative to help me get through the hurdles I was facing, and she believed that I wasn’t a drug-seeking teenager. Honestly, just knowing it was there helped me so much.. probably even more so than taking it (because when you take it, you have to worry about relying on it too much and the possibility of addiction). I am so glad you were finally able to get yourself up and out of bed — it’s nice being reminded that mental illness also presents itself in physically debilitating ways, and that I’m not alone. I love reading your blog, so keep on rocking it! ❤ All the best, Natally

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you for sharing this story unfortunately it’s a really common response for people to tell you to just stop stressing. I’ve been told to calm down or relax too many times to count and it is not helpful. It just compounds the stress. Thanks again for reading and sharing your story!

      Liked by 1 person

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