"If you're going through hell . . . Keep Going."

Happy Tuesday everyone,

When you talk to someone with a mental illness. They usually reference that one bad period in their life where they hit rock bottom. For me, that was middle school. Before I was put through the year-long hassle of what do I have and how do I treat it. I went through a period in my life where I was just in the worst place a person could be. Now I obviously came out of this and lived a pretty stable life for about five years. There were tiny little dips here and there but I never went back to that place.


Until a couple months ago. A couple months ago I started to slip back to a similar place to where I was and I'm only now working my way back out. I hit rock bottom again. For a good while. I didn't tell anyone. I was so ashamed of being in that place again. I was supposed to be the success story who helped other people. I didn't want to tell anyone because I have the most amazing support system. The moment I told them they would have jumped to action the way I do every time for them. My friends no when they're in a dark place that the second they tell me I jump to action. This has made several of my friends very prepared to do the same thing for me. I've been for them so they're there for me. And I didn't want that. I liked being the supporter. I didn't want to be the one who needed support. So I didn't tell anyone that I was in that place again. Which is just the worst possible thing to do. The second I was feeling even a little bit of that darkness I should have said something to stop me from slipping further. That mistake cost me a lot.

I hid it. So it festered. And grew. To the point, I wasn't doing a very good job of hiding it from my people. My friends started to realize something was happening to me. I was having a lot of code-word TEDDY BEARS aka panic attacks for no reason or for very small reasons. I become almost incapable of being alone. I clung to my friends. Terrified they would leave me (Yes. She has severe abandonment issues.). I was making a lot of self-deprecating remarks and jokes that everyone hated me. I think that got to my friends the most. Suddenly it seemed like I was hating myself again. And when I hate myself I'm convinced everyone else hates me too. Alarms were going off in everyone's head.

Imagine the alarm going off in a fire station. Firefighters rush to action. Those are my friends. Once they were convinced I needed help the last couple months came to its climax. When I realized my friends were springing into action . . .

I often imagine myself as a thin glass vase sitting on a podium. The last couple of months I was cracking, trying so hard not to break, to shatter. I was holding myself together so desperately. When I realized my friends could see that I just broke. All the fragile pieces of the vase fell to the floor. I knew it was bad. That it was real. Because my friends saw me breaking. It was like I could manage to hold myself together until my friends became aware I was struggling. The fact that they could see I was struggling. Drowning. Cracking. Meant it was bad. That meant I was in the bad place.

So my vase shattered. But this time the pieces fell into the hands of the people I love. The scooped me up and like magic, the teeny tiny pieces were put together. I was still in pieces. But bigger one. Ones that were easier to put back together. The second I broke I stopped hiding. I let my friends help me so I could start the healing process. It's funny. I had been doing my damnedest to keep my pain hidden but the second it was out this weight lifted of my shoulder and suddenly I was telling everyone. I was telling everyone that I needed them. That I was breaking and needed help.

This is when the people who didn't know about my mental illness struggles noticed I was different. I didn't have to hide that I wasn't okay so I was acting differently. I was snappy and grumpy. I was making self-hating comments. For some people that was really confusing. But for my friends this was good. If I was vocalizing my feelings they could help me. Instead of keeping that self-deprecating comment or joke in my head I said it out loud. And my friends, I don't know how to explain, they fixed it? I'm trying to think of an example of this phenomena.

Okay. Maybe I say something like; "Of course I'm single no one would date this ugly mug." I would say it jokingly with a smile.

My friends would say something to in a way undo it. Or fix it. Sort of take away the feeling or thought that made me say that. Each friend does this in a different way.

Josh would propose to me.

Ana would agree. In a way, only your best friend can.

Melisha (Calm down Melisha you're my  best friend too.) would understand I'm talking about my weight and would say; "Well you know big girls do it best."

Daniel would make some sort of sexual comment towards me and give me "the look".

Jalen would relate and say; "Saaaaaaaaaaaaame."

These are my people. I call them "my people" more than I call them friends. (Sidebar. I recently told Daniel to explain his people to me. And he called me racist. I meant his family, not Mexicans! When I say my people I mean my friends and family (The ones I like. (Freaks out because parenthesis inception).).) Because really they're so much more than friends. The only way I know how to describe that is with the phrase "my people". As for just friends. For some reason, one more reaction comes to mind.

Marcus would spank me.

Now, this post came about because Daniel (while on Vicodin) in a complicated way that doesn't really need to be explained was saying that my friends would hate him because he hurt my feelings (He didn't. Not the point.). Now most people when trying to convince and assure someone that their feelings were not hurt (Feelings were not hurt in the making of this post - wink. Get it? like what they put at the end of movies and videos and stuff? No? Okay.) would say; "Oh no they won't hate you.". But that would be the biggest lie I have ever told. I instead said, "That's why we're not going to tell them (About the whole situation where it seemed like my feelings were hurt.)."

My friends love Daniel. But the second he hurts me (He hasn't. Ugh this is getting long and complicated.). Or if it even seems like he has. They would be on him like a pack of bloodthirsty wolves. I didn't tell him they wouldn't hate him because they would tear him to shreds. This struck fear into his very core. Because he knew it was true. But I assured him I would protect him.

This has come up before. I've had many a partners who have been freaked out by the protectiveness of my friends. It's like that dad who holds the shotgun (my dad would hold one of those big scissor looking things and a shovel. I think a protective father who's a gardener would be scarier than a hunter father. The body would be fertilizing the trees. you'll never find it.) when the boy comes to the door to court his daughter. When it comes to my heart, my friends don't play no games. I've suffered a couple good burns from exs. It wasn't a rock bottom sort of burn but I stumbled and my friends were there to catch me. I think this taught them to be hypervigilant guards of my heart. I never really saw myself as the one in the group everyone jumped to protect. I always felt like I was the one who jumped to protect any of my people. I am very mother bear to my girls and boys. I think that is what made them reciprocate. I'm the one who doesn't ask for protection or help because I give it. And in answer, my friends give back.

So once my feelings of depression were in its free form. When I was making my way back to healthy and while I didn't hide when I was feeling down. My friends would check in on me. And because of this Daniel person, everyone jumped to tear out his throat and I kept having to protect him. "No he didn't do anything I'm just - " Down or I'm just feeling this or that or whatever.

I think Josh has the best quote for this. When Josh sees a man down he puts his serious pants on and says, (I hope I do his quote justice. I might be a bit off.)  "What's his name, what's his blood type and where does he live?" Sometimes accompanied by, "Who do I have to kill?" I'm telling you, Josh is the sweetest guy I have ever met which is one of my favorite things about him. But my other favorite thing about him is that sweet boy turns into an animal on the hunt when someone messes with someone he cares about. I think I notice his mama bear mannerism the most because he goes from "I love everyone and Jesus" (not a direct quote) to hired killer.

Until next time,
Totally Ky

P.S My friends forced me to make an Instagram and post on it so here's a link to that. I don't know how to use it and the mainstream hurts me a bit.