The Beginning

grace (noun): simple elegance or refinement of movement; courteous goodwill; the free and unmerited favor of God, as manifested in the salvation of sinners and the bestowal of blessings; a short prayer of thanks said before or after a meal.

Grace. This word has gotten me through multiple things. For whatever reason, I always come back to this word, no matter what I am going through, whether it is good or bad. Lately, what I have been experiencing has been by far one of the hardest things I have endured. One of the biggest crosses I have carried in my life is anxiety and depression. I have struggled with both for quite some time, especially the depression. I had never reached out for medical help, except for my senior year of high school. That year, I went to about three counseling sessions for my depression and then stopped because I did not feel like it was helping me. Somehow, by the grace of God, I managed to get through it. Fast forward to fall of 2019, my depression got bad again, but I turned to journaling and talking to my friends and family to get through it. And again, I somehow, by the grace of God, managed to get through it.

April of 2020, my anxiety began to get really bad. I was anxious about going to work, I was crying nonstop, I was mentally in a very bad place. My depression would be touch and go as well. At the end of May, my boyfriend and I broke up, which left me heartbroken. I began the grieving process for that, which was extremely difficult for me. I was confused, sad, had no appetite, and just felt so lost. I hated my ex for about three days, which I can now joke about. If anyone knows my ex, they know that he is just about the hardest person to hate! I slowly began to heal, day by day. I eventually got to the point where I was okay. I realized that although my relationship with my ex was great and I had no regrets, I would one day find my person. I had finally moved past the breakup and we are now very good friends! HUGE VICTORY - all thanks to the grace and mercy of God.

Mid June, my anxiety and depression began to get out of control. I was having trouble focusing, I was noticeably shaky, I was crying all the time, and I had no appetite. At first, I was reluctant to making a doctor's appointment to discuss things. I had my annual physical scheduled for the end of August and my plan was to just wait until then to discuss my mental health. Things continued to get worse and worse. I felt numb to the world and I felt like I was going through the motions. I was not living, I was simply existing. My friends and family urged me to make an appointment for sooner because the anxiety and depression was overtaking my life. I struggled each day and felt like giving up on life. I had no motivation to continue on, I wanted the pain, the anxiety, and the sadness to just end.

August 5th, 2020 - the day I finally went to the doctor's to discuss my mental health. It came to the point where I knew it was too bad to continue without medical help. As I was waiting in my room for my nurse practitioner to come in, I promised myself that I was going to leave if I had to wait more than five more minutes. Guys, GOD IS SO GOOD and knows you better than anyone else. By the grace of God, my nurse practitioner walked in just a few minutes after I made that promise to myself. I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder and anxiety.

Let me tell you something, when you are answering the PHQ-9 Depression Scale out loud and answering "nearly every day" to almost every single question, it is a huge wake up call. I knew my depression was bad, but I didn't know it was that bad. I was super upset when I was doing this scale. I was holding back tears because all I could think was, "why did I let it get to this point?" As a nurse, I would never want my patient to be thinking the things I was thinking. I know I would have encouraged them to seek out help much sooner than I did. But, when your depression and anxiety is bad, you simply do not care about yourself. I thought so little of myself. I was mentally checked out. I did not want to be alive. I tell you this not for pity, but for awareness. Even those who seem so be put together can be walking through hell. At this appointment, I was started on a low dose of Lexapro and had Ativan as needed. My NP encouraged me to reach out to counselor to start therapy, but I was not ready. I had a followup just a week later, in which my dose was increased again. I continued to have frequent doctor's appointments and eventually my dose was increased to 20mg of Lexapro.

13 days on 20mg of Lexapro is all it took. On Sunday, September 13th, I had my first panic attack. One of many in a short amount of time. I had a panic attack at work and that was the final straw for me. I work night shift, so first thing that morning, I called my doctor to get an emergency appointment. I was so scared because I was not okay. I began hitting myself in the forehead repeatedly during my panic attacks. I could not control when they would come. I could not calm myself down easily. I felt crazy. I literally felt broken. I felt like I could not be fixed. I had a panic attack during my appointment. My NP talked me through it and had to get my Ativan out of my car, so I could take it. This was one of the worst times of my life. I was terrified of what I was going to do to myself.

My NP and I decided that the Lexapro was not the right medication for me. I began to titrate off of the Lexapro slowly and began to take Buspar three times a day. Eventually, I got to 10mg of Prozac once a day and 15mg of Buspar three times a day. So far, this medication regimen is working much better for me. I began therapy, which has been difficult for me. I also was taken out of work with FMLA because I could not care for patients in this condition. I needed to focus on myself and get better before even considering caring for others. I plan on writing a blog about being taken out of work because it was something that I struggled, and still struggle, with.

By the grace of God, I am here to share my story. Mental health is real and it is scary. I felt like giving up on life. I wanted absolutely nothing to do with the life I was living. I wanted to die, and again, I don't say that for pity, rather awareness. I had convinced myself that I would rather be dead. My medication and nurse practitioner saved me, but most importantly God saved me. Even when I wanted nothing to do with God and my faith, He continued to love me. He pursued me when I did not even have the motivation or desire to pursue my own life. God never gave up on me. He showed me, and continues to show me, unbelievable favor.

So here we are. When I was thinking about what to name my blog, grace upon grace was one of the first things to pop into my head. If my mental health journey helps one person, I will be happy. If this shows that anyone can be going through anything, so always be kind, I will be thrilled. If the reality of my story gives another hope, that will be incredible. If anything, I hope my journey and this blog helps stop the stigma to mental illness. I want to make my journey, that was once a living hell, positive. I am still not at my best, I still struggle every day with anxiety and depression, but I am slowly getting better. I am slowly healing and I hope that I will help others heal as well.

God's grace. It is incredible. It is love. And it is REAL.

To the person who is experiencing anxiety, depression, or any sort of mental illness, I am here for you. I am here to tell you that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Reach out to a medical professional for help. Talk to people that care about you and love you. You are not alone. Even though it feels like you are, I promise that you are NOT.

"For from His fullness we have all received grace upon grace." -John 1:16 ESV