PMS - Pissed at Medical Systems

When I was 16 years old my mom had to come to my high school and bring me a new pair of jeans. She had to do this because in under two hours I had bled through an extra strength pad, my underwear, and a pair of jeans, to the point that there was a small puddle of blood in my seat in class. There is nothing more humiliating than having to experience that, and to this day when I'm menstruating I have panic attacks over whether or not I'm bleeding through multiple layers of protection and clothing.

Ever since that day in high school, when I was enduring a six month long menstrual cycle, I've taken birth control. Not only does it regulate my body and hormones, but it helps to decrease the intensity of my depression, and it allows me to control the suffering I endure at the hand of my period.

Is this info making you uncomfortable? Do you not like having to think about cramps, bloating, and immense amounts of blood? Well guess what, I don't like having to fight for my right to access birth control, and I certainly don't like that for women who don't have insurance, birth control can cost nearly $200.

I'm currently still in the middle of a nearly month long battle of trying to get access to my birth control. First, my pharmacy changed my birth control without my consent. Last time this happened the change in formula sent me into a comatose depressive episode. Next, the pharmacy claimed they had no idea what I was talking about, claimed they had no record of my correct birth control (which I had been filling there for a year). They tried to pin the screw up on my doctor, which backfired when I mentioned the doctor they referenced hadn't been my doctor for over a year. Finally, I had to make an appointment with my doctor, drive nearly an hour to his office, and waste his time so that he could write out a new prescription for a medication I'd been on for nearly ten years.

I go to a new pharmacy, while suffering physical and mental discomfort that is indescribably unbearable thanks to my period. The new pharmacy informed me that my birth control wasn't covered by insurance. Because of the severity of my period I'm on a form of birth control where I only suffer my menstrual cycle once every three months, instead of every month. So despite that fact, and my medical history, and the specifically written prescription from my doctor, they pharmacist said I couldn't have 3 months worth of birth control unless I planned on paying $160 for the other two months.

Still the wrong birth control. Still the wrong information. Still frustrated and exhausted.

To put in clearly, this is some utter BULLSHIT. Why is it easier to get viagra or hydrocodone than it is to get birth control? Why is it cheaper? Why aren't men judged for their little blue pill, when I'm judged and condemned for taking birth control? Why is it harder to get this harmless, helpful medicine that I've been on for years and that I need to get through every day life, than it is to hire a freaking hitman?

Maybe I'm a bad millennial, but I think we should be focusing more on getting women fair and affordable access to medical treatment, and less arguing about whether or not Bruno Mars is black enough to sing his music.

Stop Self-Shaming

This morning I was standing in my kitchen making coffee, and honestly feeling bad for myself. I lost my job a few months ago, and finding a new one has been an impossible task so far. I've slowly watched my hard earned savings account wither away and I get to psych myself up to go fold sweaters for not enough money an hour.

After a minute I wagged my finger at myself. How dare I. I'm engaged to the most perfect man in the world, I have a loving family, and my life hasn't been too derailed by unemployment. I mentally scolded myself for the self-pitying moment when, all in all, my life is overall good.

As I stood listening to my coffee drip into the cup, I got mad at myself for an entirely new reason. How dare I! Its not a sin to be unhappy. Its okay to be unhappy about the unhappy parts of your life. We all have them, and its healthy to mope a bit over your morning cup of cinnamon dolce brew.

Taking a moment to let out your stress and frustration over the not so perfect stuff in your life does not take away from the great parts of it. We're all allowed to wallow a bit and feel down in the dumps. You can cry in the shower, and hit an extra snooze in the morning because you feel like crap. We all need those little moments.

Sometimes, allowing yourself to spend a few moments in a state of despair or sadness or pity can help you appreciate the blessings around you. Yes, I am unemployed and verging on broke and pretty depressed about it, but thank god I have a sweet man who makes me smile in spite of all of that. Finding something to laugh about feels a little bit sweeter.

So stop shaming yourself. Take a minute to be sad, then find a lot of things to laugh about.

Feminism, Terrorism, and Thin Mints

I have been told, on more than one occasion, that I am a terrorist to feminism. Um, a little harsh right? I earned this malicious moniker for a mildly ridiculous reason. My alleged 'sin' against the sisterhood of feminism is my utter, unadulterated love for babies. 

I have wanted to be a mom since I was a little girl, and I am so excited to have kids one day. I have no desire to be a mogul, or a CEO, or an activist. Room Mom is the highest title that I aspire to reach, and for some reason a lot of women seem to be extremely offended by this. 

Its like my dream isn't good enough, or ambitious enough and I'm a threat to the evolution of womankind. If my desire to push Girl Scout Cookies is going to topple the feminist movement, am I really the issue? How fragile is feminism if it can be taken down by a box of Thin Mints?

I will admit that I am unsure if I should be considered a feminist. I didn't go out for the Women's March, or the Women's Convention in Detroit. I don't do anything special on National Women's Day. However, I have been touched inappropriately by a male superior at work. I have been the victim of sexual assault. I've struggled to embrace my confidence and loud personality for fear that guys might not like me. I've experienced all of that and you know what? I'll be damned if my daughter ever has to go through the same thing. 

As a woman, I try to look at every other woman as a sister or a daughter. I try to spread love, give compliments, and build up the women around me. We do need marches. We do need to change laws and overthrow the outdated and offensive idea that PMS turns a woman into an unstable psychopath. But we also need to love each other on a daily basis.

We need to support one another whether your dream is to be on the PTA or in the Oval Office. We have to stop slut shaming each other, and hating each other for whatever crazy reasons we've dreamt up. We all need to love each other unconditionally, openly, and loudly. Once we embrace that, there's nothing that can stop us from changing the world.     

They Say When You're Broken the Light Gets In

I often write about mental illness in February, because it's the anniversary of my suicide attempt. Whenever I go to talk about my experiences with anxiety, depression, and suicide I always struggle with where to start...

18? When I finally told someone about my anxiety attacks and I was diagnosed with anxiety and clinical depression?

11? When I first started experiencing panic attacks that kept me from being able to sleep?

24? When I had to find a way to articulate to my fiance that sometimes, for no reason, I fear that he'll stop loving me because of my anxiety?

15? When my Papaw died suddenly and I was thrown into a deep struggle with severe depression and panic attacks?

16? When I could no longer deal with my crippling mood drops and panic attacks and I took as many pills as I could get my hands on, hoping to end the almost 2 year period of endless pain I could no longer bear?

My mental illness journey has been long, painful, and very difficult to cope with. Even at almost 25 years old, more than 10 years since I first began dealing with symptoms, I'm still learning how to live with depression and anxiety, because even though I've learned how to better cope with panic attacks, and even though I don't think about suicide every night, my depression and my anxiety disorder still affect me. 

I think the biggest lesson I've learned so far in my journey is the importance of openness and education. It wasn't until I was almost 18 that I discovered that depression isn't just a noun for being really sad. Depression is a medical condition related to the chemicals produced in your brain. Even after my doctor explained it to me, and even after seeing several therapists, and starting antidepressants, it took me several years to accept my situation. 

Had I known when I was 15 that I might be suffering from an illness, my life could have turned out very differently. I spent years thinking that I was broken, weak, and worthless. I thought I was defective. I prayed endlessly for strength, to be better. I wondered if all of my friends and classmates felt like this. Was this really just hormones? It couldn't be, could it? Was my best friend crying herself to sleep and in so much physical and emotional pain that she hoped she would die?

We need to make sure that our kids, these young people who are trying to grow in such a stressful world, know that its okay to not be okay. They need to know that there is nothing wrong with social anxiety, or being depressed. They can't control it. They are not weak. They are not broken. Just like someone with diabetes needs insulin, their body needs a little extra help to function at its best. 

Late at night, when I'm waiting for my xanax to kick in after a 2 am panic attack, or when I'm crying in the shower because something has overwhelmed me that day, I worry about my kids. I pray that my future kids never have to deal with depression, anxiety, ADHD, or any form of mental illness. I hope they're happy and healthy and never have to question their own sanity. But I will also make sure they know that if they ever need help, they will get it with no judgement. 

No one should ever feel so lost, alone, or helpless that they think the only way to ever escape their pain is by hurting themselves. No one should ever be too ashamed to ask for help, or fear judgement if they reach out to someone. We need to make it known that mental illness is not shameful. 

You're not alone. You're not broken. We're all here for you.    

Extra Salty

When I casually toss a couple chips in my mouth and I bite down, that crunch gives me the same feeling I imagine a drug addict feels when they get hit with the full intensity of their latest fix. It isn’t just a snack, or a munchie, or a quick bite. It’s a compulsive craving that I need to satisfy.

I’ve been binge eating as long as I can remember. Maybe it started as a bad habit of eating in front of the tv, or a lack of understanding of portion control, who knows really. AllI do know is that now I almost don’t know how to have a meal that doesn’t end with me being so full that I feel sick.

The thought of not binge eating, or the thought that I can’t go get an excessive amount of food, is enough to send me into a genuine panic attack. My heart races and I can feel myself losing the ability to breath. All because I don’t want to shove food down my throat.

I think that’s the hardest part of it...I don’t want to binge. I know it isn’t healthy, and I don’t want to do it. I want to be healthy, and not snack, and lose weight. I know it may sound like an excuse, but it’s more than a bad habit, it’s a compulsion.

Chips, cookies, pizza, pasta, crackers...all of those crap foods, they’re my drug. I crave them, no matter how much I tell myself I shouldn’t, and I hate myself for it. I’ve hated myself for a lot of things over the years, and I don’t want to anymore. I want to be healthy, and better, and most importantly I want to be happy with who I am and the choices I make. So I’m starting today and I’m going to fuck it all up, but this time I’m going to keep trying and keep at it, and keep fighting.    

Blind to Blessings

The other day, on my way home from work, I saw three men doing drugs under an overpass. I frowned, seeing these young guys caught up in something so bad for them, then turned up my radio and sang along to Adele on my way home to my apartment.

The next day, while passing the same overpass, I noticed the same three men, but this time they weren't kneeling in a circle preparing to indulge in a street corner commodity. They were huddled under the bridge, trying to keep warm, using a hunk of a cardboard box to shield themselves from the biting wind that came along with the first day of spring.

When the full reality of the situation hit me, I felt like my rose colored glasses had been torn from my eyes and smashed on the sidewalk. My eyes were open and on my drive home I realized that I passed people on every street corner, at every stoplight, who needed help.

My heart broke as I thought of how often I take for granted the incredible life I have. Not only do I have a place to lay my head every night, but I have food in my fridge, money in the bank, a car that I can rely on, and most importantly, I have a backup plan and a support system for if any one of my blessings ever for any reason are to disappear. I have another warm home to go to. I have places to eat. I have enough money to tide myself through rough times.

So today, please do me a favor. Look around at your life, and take a moment to appreciate everything you have. Sure, we all have flaws, and things we wish we could have in our lives, and we all have hard times whether we live under an overpass, in a shelter, or in a nice home with a warm bed, but regardless of what your situation is, find one thing, every single day, to be thankful for.

My heart is driving me to share my blessings and do what I can do help the people in my community. If you want to know how you can help, check out the links below. There are some great tips and a plethora of ways to help and be involved whether you want to do something big or small.

https://www.justgive.org/donations/help-homeless.jsp

http://www.wikihow.com/Help-the-Homeless

Rediscovering Magic

               Today, while looking out the window of my office, I was hit with an intense realization. You see, my office is on the 39^th floor of an iconic building in the heart of downtown Detroit, and when I look out any window on my floor I can see for miles.

            I’ve worked in my office for a month, but today was the first time I really looked at my view, and saw the enormity of it. My window doesn’t just look out at buildings, parking lots, and a river. It looks out onto the lives of thousands of people. My window looks out on employees driving their companies forward, houses and apartments that people call home, and people hustling and bustling to and from moments, small and large, in their lives.

            I’m guilty of something I think every single one of us is guilty of. I’m guilty of not appreciating the enormity of this incredible world we live in. I am one, simple human, surrounded by a million other simple humans, who are actually anything but simple.

            How many people do you pass on the street everyday while you’re driving? How many strangers do you walk past each morning on your way into work? How many anonymous faces do you pass each day without a second thought?

            If you pass me in the hall what do you see? You see a young woman, maybe just a girl, with curly hair, buying a coffee, or waiting for the elevator. When I look in the mirror I see a hard worker, a singer, a cook, an aspiring author. I see a green eyed dreamer who wants to change the world. When you look at yourself in the mirror do you see the same thing? Do you see someone with hopes, fears, and dreams of changing the world?

            Now imagine that every single person in this world, every anonymous face you pass each day, every car that speeds past you on the freeway, every single life that lies outside your window, is a soul with a dream and a passion, a desire to change the world and leave their mark. Every day we are surrounded by thousands, millions, even billions of magnificent creatures called people.

            So today, or tomorrow, take a second to allow the enormity of that fact wash over you. Revel in the notion that each day you are surrounded by hearts, whether in the next cubicle, the building across the street, or island in the river, that are full of passion and the desire to change this great big, terrifying world we live in.

And that, folks, is utter magic.