I’m a day late. Always. Yesterday, October 10th, was Mental Health Awareness Day. This topic is kind of a big one for me. If you’re sick or hurt, you go to the doctor. You take the medicine you need. You get whatever procedure done. Without the negative stigmas to go along with it. So why is mental health any different?

I struggled for so long not sleeping or being paranoid over every little thing. I thought I was managing just fine. I wasn’t. My anxiety hits in the middle of the night when I’m left alone to my thoughts.

Most people didn’t know. Or probably still wouldn’t know today. I kept up my kids’ schedules, I attended all their events, I earned degrees and worked multiple jobs. I looked like I had it altogether. No one knew how many times I was up throughout the night checking on the kids, rechecking locks, looking at our camera app, or waking up Chris because I thought I heard something outside. Until I just couldn’t do it anymore.

I didn’t want to go to my doctor and ask for anxiety medication because I didn’t want to be labeled or appear weak. After MANY talks with Chris, I finally made the appointment and went. I asked for medication to help with my anxiety and sleeping problems. The one they put me on was a doozy. It definitely worked, but it came with a lot of side effects and heavy withdrawal symptoms. But I was sleeping well, so I dealt with the nausea, vomiting, and hot flashes.

Without actually working on the problems causing my anxiety and depression, I thought after a year, I could wean off. A few months later, I realized I was mistaken. I went back and started the medication again.

Meanwhile, our oldest daughter, was struggling with her own. She missed a LOT of school because she would work herself up so much, she got sick. After much discussion between us parents (her dad and stepmom, too), we had her start taking medication to help short term. She hated it. They had really crappy side effects and she just didn’t want to take it. Which was her choice. One condition to that choice was that she needed to try therapy for 6 months. We also enrolled her in an online academy for her 6th grade school year, so she could stay home and focus on her mental health. After almost 2 years of therapy sessions, she is medication free. She is back to in-person learning. She has friends and hobbies that she enjoys. She is thriving, to say the least. I could go on forever about how well she’s doing and how proud I am of her.

Seeing her progress through therapy the last couple years made me realize that I need to work on myself. I started therapy back in March. I weaned off my anxiety medications by the end of May. Here I am, in October, sleeping through the night with minimal issues. I, occasionally, still wake up or have long nights, but nowhere near what it used to be.

I have a long way to go with my therapist, but it is helping. It is worth the time, money (because they aren’t cheap), and work I put into it.

If you’re struggling, please reach out to someone you trust or your healthcare professional. Whether medication or therapy, you know your body, mind, and what is going to work best for you right now. There’s no shame in getting a little support.

Here’s a link to resources to help you find the support you need today.