The Journey Home: 9 Month Reflection Part 2
When it came to figuring out what was causing my depression and what would make me happy again, there were a lot of things that came to mind. It was personal and professional life satisfaction. It was about being more aware of the deepest and darkest parts of me, loving and accepting myself for the “beautiful mess” that I am, and developing a richness in self-love. It was about learning to lean into my people instead of facing things on my own all the time. Most importantly, it was about acknowledging the waves of emotions I was feeling instead of running, avoiding, or tucking them aside for the future. I felt like my inner world had collapsed, and my spirit was shattered and broken.
Like I mentioned in my previous post, I felt like a stranger in my own body and mind. I didn’t know who I was anymore; all I knew was that I didn’t want to be the person that I was in that current moment. I would often say in my journal, as well as out loud,“I didn’t want to feel this way and I could not live life like this anymore. That I didn’t want to be this version of me.” I felt like to the outside world I appeared put together and strong, but on the inside I felt hollow and a complete mess. I knew that I had to make some changes!
When it came time to apply to the job back home, I spent a few days sitting on my application prior to submitting it. Even when it came time to hit the “submit” button, I spent a good hour pacing my living room thinking and debating. However, I came to the conclusion that I wanted to throw my name in the bucket, because professionally I felt it would be a really great career move for me. I also knew that if for any reason I changed my mind and decided to stay where I was at, I could always withdraw my application. The job was intimidating to me at first to be honest because around 50% I knew I could do, but the other 50% was way outside of my comfort zone and expertise. Even though it was outside of my comfort zone, I wanted and needed a new challenge. I liked and was good at my old job, and I loved my office family. I liked the spirit of the school I worked at and town I was in. However, when I would sit back and fully analyze what I did on a daily basis as a professional, I didn’t feel like I was living up to the expectations I had set for myself. I was doing what I loved and working with students on a daily basis, but I wanted to have more variety in my role. I felt “comfortable” in my position, and I felt like I was to early in my career to be comfortable.
Later that week, after I submitted my application, I experienced what I like to refer to as my “mental breakdown and moment of clarity” about if applying to the job back home was the right move for me. I had went to a doctor’s appointment, and it was news that I didn’t want or needed to hear. I was wanting to get off some medication that has some serious and scary long-term side effects. The Doctor basically just said that based on what had happened in the few months prior that it was a good indicator that I would never be able to come off it.
That appointment was the final straw that broke me.
I went home and posted in my “Steel Magnolias” Facebook group that I have with my closest girlfriends. I was sad, but more angry about it then anything. I cried some that night but mostly felt numb. When I woke up the next morning I still felt like I needed to cry, I still felt numb, so I skipped the eyeliner and barely put on mascara just in case. I felt and knew the tears were coming but didn’t know when. I teared up some driving to work that morning but nothing major. I felt very angry and hurt not just about the appointment the day before, but everything I was feeling in general. I was thinking and saying out loud on my drive that “I can’t take anymore pain.” When I got to work I went to say good morning to my office neighbor, because I did this every morning. When he asked me how my appointment went….it finally happened…..I broke down.
After talking and crying in his office for a good 20 minutes, I went into my direct supervisor’s office. She knew about the appointment, she knew about me applying to the job, and she knew about some of the stuff I was going through, but not all of it. Like I mentioned in the previous post, I don’t let people in, especially when I am struggling. I was in her office for almost an hour sobbing about all the things that had been going on and piling up in me for almost a year at that point. I told her about my depression and how bad it had gotten. When I was able to calm down, they told me I could go home for the day, but I decided not to. I didn’t have anything on my calendar that day, but they told me I needed to make an appointment to see a counselor, which I did and saw them the next week.
I felt so embarrassed and ashamed that they had to see this side of me. Very few people, including my family and longest friends, have ever seen me cry like that before.
When I told my mom about what happened she said, “I didn’t realize how bad it had all gotten. You seemed fine with your life there. Why didn’t you tell me?!?!” I could hear the worry and concern in her voice, as well as betrayal from me hiding the truth from her. I told one of my “Steel Magnolia” girlfriends about what happened as well, and talked with her on the phone that night, as well as the next day. Naturally, my family and friends were texting me every hour to check in on me throughout the weekend, and a few of my coworkers did as well, which I was insanely grateful for.
I felt emotionally flat and numb for days after that.
When I went in to see the counselor for my first initial appointment the following week she did say I was certainly experiencing symptoms of both depression and anxiety. At that point, my symptoms had been going on heavily for almost eleven months. She was concerned about my lack of sleep, and how by not sleeping my emotions and hormones couldn’t regulate at night, but I couldn’t sleep because of how I was feeling at the time. Talk about a disaster!
After my appointment with the counselor, I remember talking to my mom about it. I also remember telling her how advising season was about to start up, and saying that “I don’t feel strong enough or ready for it, and that I wasn’t looking forward to it.” While I was saying this my voice was cracking and shaking, and tears were rolling down my face. I had one of the hardest student populations (Pre-Nursing), and Spring was difficult because there were a lot of “hard” conversations in regards to eligibility and grades. I am an empathetic person, but to feel their pain on top of mine, and to be the person upsetting and disappointing them, I just felt like I couldn’t do it. I didn’t feel like I could advise students effectively or wholeheartedly with feeling like I was falling apart myself on the inside, regardless of what population of students they belonged to. I knew in that moment that if I were offered the job back home, and if I liked it after interviewing with the institution, that I needed to take it. As much as I didn’t want to leave my old team, especially after everything they had done for me, I knew leaving was what I needed to do for me, both professionally and personally.
As much as I didn’t want to leave I knew that I couldn’t stay.
By staying, I was not gonna be able to be an effective team member or help students completely. I was gonna do more harm than good because I was not at my best. My old office didn’t deserve that, my students didn’t deserve it, and I didn’t deserve it.
I am a firm believer that doors open and our hearts yearn for something more for a reason. As hard as it is to follow at times, my heart has never led me wrong and I had to trust that. Even though my mind was saying stay and push through, my heart knew what I needed to do. I needed to go back to the place where my spirit feels alive, my soul is inspired, and I am surrounded by beauty and grace.
I needed to go home.
