Summer updates

Wow. It has been a while since I've written. There are many reasons but the most notable is...I don't have any Internet!

On June 13th I started a new job (YAY!) at my alma mater. I am serving as the interim International Student Services Coordinator at the Global Education Office at Washington College. The pay is average and the office is in a weird period of transition, but things feel good. 

I'm living with my friend Cat in a quirky little beach house a few miles out of town and I'm working in the same office as my best friend, Alex Levy. My boss is this amazing woman who took the Director position as a step on her retirement track after a long career in DC and New York working for Council on Foreign Affairs and starting an international consulting firm. I could not have a better role model as I start my career in politics. 

Katie, Alex, and I at our boss's Fourth of July BBQ

The Eastern Shore is a beautiful (albeit humid, I will admit) place in the summer. Though my rinky-dink house (we call it #trashmansion) has no internet and very little cell service, it's a short walk to the beach and in a safe, quiet neighborhood. When I'm not at work, I have time to cook, and read, and write, and lay in a hammock. We come into town on Saturday mornings for the farmer's market and I spend some evenings watching trashy 1990s television with Alex while eating ice cream in bed. 

Anna, me, and Cat beach-prepping at #trashmansion

Life couldn't be more different from a year ago. Last year, I spent the end of June and into July in the hospital. I was struggling to walk and stand for more than a few minutes. I had such a huge mountain in front of me, and even when I was trying to keep a positive attitude, I felt so completely helpless and weak. I wouldn't wish that feeling on my worst enemy. 

I still have off days. Sometimes off weeks. But I have made leaps and bounds. On June 28th, 2015, I tweeted this:

I've written a lot about the ways my health has bettered and worsen over the last year; you know that story. But I'm not sure I have accurately conveyed the changes I've been through inside my mind and heart and soul and dreams and fears and worries and joys. Yes, I went through months of physical therapy, worked tirelessly to rebuild my health, and have grown a lot physically. But many of the ways that I am "a completely different person" are far deeper than that. 

Life-altering, chronic illness does many many things to a girl. I've felt the predictable emotions: fear, worry, anger, anxiety, sadness, fatigue, fleeting-joy, depression, grief, etc. But I also went through cycles of other emotions. Guilt, shame, jealousy, hopelessness, body-dysmorphia, intense insecurity, and ultimately, bitterness. 

Feeling weak and sick does this to you. You ask yourself why you have to deal with this when others around you do not. You feel guilty for asking yourself that. You feel too proud to ask for help from others, but you need it. You feel ashamed for that. You feel guilty for always coming up short. You feel angry at life for doing that to you. You feel completely out of control of your own body. You feel like it is turning on you. You feel disconnected from it and from yourself. You feel ugly and worthless. You feel alone and misunderstood. You go back to feeling angry that this happened to you. 

I was in this cycle for a long long time. I would spiral into a darker and darker place for weeks with these thoughts. Sometimes I could lift my head above water for a brief moment before sinking back down. I needed pulled out. 

So I went on an anti-depressant and anxiety medication. After weeks of therapy and many talks with my parents, sister, and a few close friends, I realized that I couldn't get out on my own; I needed a boast. 

Like everything, the medication took a bit to work. I had a few side effects for the first few weeks but they passed. Then, one day, in mid-April, I woke up and felt a little less dread. I sang in the shower and looked forward to picking out my outfit. I felt the sun on my face, even though it rained in Chestertown for 22 days straight. 

I don't think medication is for everyone. In fact, I don't think medication will always be for me. But once I let it lift me out of the hole I'd dug myself and allowed some light in, I was able to do some of the climbing on my own. The funny thing about depression, at least for me, is that it makes you think you can't or shouldn't do the things that make you happy. My depression told me that I shouldn't get up early and go for a walk. It told me to stay in bed as much as I could. It told me I couldn't go out to Happy Hour with my coworkers, even though that could be fun. It told me not to wear that pretty sundress, cause I'd look stupid in it. It told me to hide. It told me to either eat junk food all day or eat nothing at all. It told me that I couldn't trouble my friends or family with my sadness. It told me not to sleep or to sleep all day. And I always listened. 

With the little boast of help from my medication, I could stop listening. I've started walking or running in the morning before work. It's one of my favorite parts of the day. I go out to Happy Hour and free nacho night every Thursday with my coworkers and roommate. It's the best part of the work week. I've started making funky jewelry in my spare time, and it's so goofy but a lot of fun. I've taken an interest in cooking and coming up with fun, healthy recipes. I've picked up hobbies and started a really good routine of running, morning coffee, homemade soap, work, lunch break-smoothies, post-work walks on the beach, evening reading on the porch, weekend wine tastings. I'm feeling stronger and braver than ever before. 

Cat and I wine tasting at a local vineyard

You never beat depression. You are never cured of a chronic illness. But you can learn how to package it up and move forward, even if those pesky-uninvited guests go everywhere with you. Climbing out of the hole I'd fallen into is the biggest accomplishment of my life. This strange feeling of invincibility has replaced the bitterness and I hope I can bottle it up and save some for a rainy day.