My depression
My sleep was disturbed, so I slept when I could. I don’t remember eating anything but ramen because my husband was out to sea for work for the next few months, and I’m not much of a cook anyway. My hygiene was poor. I went as long as I could without washing my hair and hid it under beanies. My showers were just baths where I soaked in nothing but my own filth. It got so bad that I noticed I started to smell. I hope nobody else did, but I’m not sure that’s true. I didn’t wash my face, let alone do any skincare beyond that. I’m almost positive I only brushed my teeth when I had to leave the house, that time is a blur. I smoked weed from the moment I woke up to the minute I would try to sleep. All the energy I had I used on finishing up the salon buildout and maintaining the handful of clients I had left.
My Medicine
The meds didn’t fully cure my anxiety, but they made life feel more doable. That’s really the best way to put it. I could think a little clearer, and I started making better decisions for myself little by little. It felt like it took an eternity to actually see the improvements in my life. As I look around at my life now, I realize that I am fortunate to have come so far in such a short period of time. It’s been almost 10 years now since I even began my mental health journey. How lucky was I to have so many melt downs at 18 that led to me further exploring my psyche.