Therapy Saved My Life

I recently got a request to post something (how about anything?) lighthearted on the blog and while I agree that it would be nice to post something less heavy than my norm, it's gonna have to wait.

This time of year can be extremely difficult for many. In fact, I think this time of year is difficult for most to some degree but society tells us that we're supposed to walk around like we're lit on eggnog all the time, and so we perform. We shove the stress and anxiety and depression and inconvenient thoughts down, down, down. I get it. I am so good at that game. Which is why before I post something lighthearted, I need to post something that could potentially save someone's life. 

A little over a year ago I was beginning to spiral. I've written about my struggle with mental health in many of my previous posts so I won't do it again here, but for those who are new to the blog you can read about my sexual assault and PTSD here, here, here, and here. Yeah, I talk about it a lot because it needs to be talked about.

You wouldn't think so, but it's actually easy to recall the details of what it was like during the worst of the worst. It's easy because I can't imagine that I'll ever be able to forget those days. They are extremely vivid memories. But what I haven't talked a lot about is how I got to that really bad place.

It was happening slowly but it happened before I knew it. I began to withdraw. I would cancel on friends. Shut myself in my bedroom. Self-medicate with sleeping pills. Essentially, I wanted to "not be." I didn't want to feel. If someone would have asked me if I was suicidal, I would have answered emphatically, "no." And I truly wasn't. But I was also desperate to not feel anything anymore. To make matters worse, I was really good at hiding all of this. The "I'm too busy" or "it's too cold out" texts were frequent and the "I don't want to talk about it" reply was automatic anytime someone tried to care. By the time I realized what was happening and reached out for professional help, I was already pretty far gone. I had no idea just how bad it was about to get over the following months.

It scares me to think of what could have happened if I hadn't reached out for help. I'm not telling you my experience with individual and group therapy was easy, if you've read my posts you know I fought hard to get here. But it could have been worse. And I could have found myself in a hole so deep I might not have been able to get out. 

Let me be clear, what we're talking about here isn't some holiday sadness that Hallmark movies tell you can be cured with a puppy and a fiance (side note, I fucking hate those movies). The desperation one feels around this time of year is something that is preexisting and it is only amplified by the holiday pressure to be social, act happy, and show your love by spending thousands of dollars. In my case, I was already feeling the symptoms of my PTSD when the holidays came around.

If you are in pain now, please know that you are not alone. You are surrounded by people who are hurting just like you and you have nothing to be ashamed of. There is nothing wrong with you. You are not abnormal. 

You are brave for getting out of bed every morning. You are brave for fixing that smile on your face before you walk out the door. You are brave for making it through another day. I know it doesn't feel that way. I know you feel weak and unworthy. I know. But I promise you - I can tell you from experience - it. gets. better. 

I implore you - if you are desperate to not feel, especially if you are desperate enough to take your life, please reach out for help. You can cry. You can talk. You can get answers and most importantly, you can get help. 

You are needed here. You are wanted here. You are loved here.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 

1 800-273-8255

NYC: Two Year Review

"Was definitely supposed to write this a while ago and publish yesterday but is anyone really surprised? Because I'm not."

That was my opening line for my One Year Review so I think it's safe to say that absolutely nothing has changed because here I am, an entire month late on this post. This is an endearing quality, right? 

I've got two years under my belt in this big, beautiful city. I keep waiting for the day I wake up and hate the blaring horns, sidewalk vomit, and the smell of piss on a hot summer's day but maybe that is a badge you earn at Year Three? Here's hoping because every day I wake up in this city is completely different than the last and I love that. New buildings being constructed and your favorite deli closing -  an entire block can change before your eyes. There's a sadness in this for sure. Tearing down the old and worn down demands some kind of mourning, some kind of grief. But there's also something reassuring in knowing that change and adaptation is so natural and necessary in this city. Reconstruction is beautiful. 

I've grown up so much here. I've never felt so confident and sure of my self and what I want. Maybe it's a part of getting older or maybe this place forced me to face things I hadn't wanted to before. Either way, it's been an epic two years and I'm so excited for what's next. 

Alright, let's get to the part you actually wanted to read. 

The Rent: So I moved. I was living on the East Side and now I'm on the West Side (in my very own apartment!!!)  in the best neighborhood in all of Manhattan - West Village. When you think of a Kate Hudson movie being shot in New York, this is the neighborhood you think of. Brownstones and cobbled streets, boutiques and the best restaurants. It's like the perfect date neighborhood. Just bring a girl here and she'll fall in love with you. Promise. Also, I'll be doing a "home tour" post at some point just be warned that I live in a shoe box so the post will contain exactly one photo.

The Rats: Solid chance that I'm just not aware of my surroundings because I haven't seen a ton of rats or any A-list celebrities since I moved here. 

The Subway: Now that I actually live close to a subway station I take it all the time and if Uber is doing poorly these days you can blame it on me. 

The People: I've never met so many hard working people in my entire life. I'm constantly in awe of my friends and family that live here and fight for what they want. They don't take no for an answer. Surviving in this place can be a challenge in itself so to thrive here is incredibly admirable. I'm very luck to know so many talented people. Hoping some of that rubs off!

The Dates: You guys. I can't. Dating here is the absolute worst. I actually got rid of Bumble (the only dating app I use) because it's depressing. Can't wait for the holidays when I have to explain to family members that I'm single because the only person interested in dating me is the homeless man I greet on my way to work every day.

The Nightlife: I'm old. This doesn't exist. My night out consists of two glasses of wine at dinner before I return home to my Netflix lineup. I refuse to apologize for this. That being said though, I would never turn down a boozy brunch. Bottomless mimosas, hold the OJ.

The Food: Oh my gaahhhddd the food. Don't ever ask me for a list of restaurants to visit while you're here because that would turn into me starting another novel. There are so many amazing places to eat here. And there's something new popping up every week. If I get fat just know it was because I had to. 

The Smell: To me, New York City will always smell like hot dog street vendors and the possibility that anything could happen here. Big fan of both of those things.