Hi. I'm Morgan and here is the last year of my life.
But first, here is how I got to this last year.
At the 2014 tsukino con. (That's a geek convention for all the muggles) there was a panelist who talked about over coming anxiety. I loved it. He talked well and was easy to understand. Now I knew I had anxiety, who can blame me I do live with a epipen in my back pocket.
Anyway. He talked on how his anxiety turned into depression and then how he over came it. He gave lessons on how to overcome our own anxiety. Then met with kids who he had helped.
Now I would not have dreamed that I had depression. Come on. I'm that happiest person I know!! I'm allways smiling and My life is pretty good, I don't have any troubles. However that thought on depression kept nagging at me. I looked up symptoms and checked off on most, but I pushed the thought aside and kept going on with my life. I had a great job at thriftys with people I loved to be around. So why did I keep thinking to myself I need to talk to someone.
Flash forward to January 2015. After many visits to my family doctor. And many different medications. She gave me a note that I was to stop going to work immediately and head over to a mental health clinic. I was crushed. I hated leaveing my job. My managers and coworkers were so kind and told me to take my time. I didn't know how long it would actually take.
At my first visit to the MHC I was scared stiff. I didn't want to go. Mom sat in the car as I walked in to the waiting room. A small lady came out and brought me into her office. I have come to know it well. There are two lamps with dragonflys because she doesn't like the sound the fluorescent lights make. There are plants, books and pigs. She loves collecting pigs. I've counted all of them. (There are 62) as we started she patted my knee and told me to just talk about myself. We talked about my family and my job also everything I liked to do. She gave me sheets of tests and a small candy to suck on as I filled them out. When I gave them back she nodded her head and told me she would see me next week. After weeks of visits she called in a psychiatrist to help diagnose me. They told me that I had anxiety and depression. "Ok. I will come to accept that. And fight to get over it". I thought at the time. The next part was the scariest. Once I started opening up to the therapist she started to hear me talk about many parts of my life that I didn't know we're a problem. The psychiatrist was called again and this time they both diagnosed me with PTSD and Schizophrenia. For those who don't know PTSD stands for Post Tamatic Stress Diaorder. Soldiers who have been in fire fight have come back home with PTSD. I have it from so many times having a anaphylactic allergies reaction then rushing to the hospital while I struggle to breath. Schizophrenia is a brain disorder where I hear tapping sounds and see shadows that are not there. Not to be confused with multiple personality disorder.
My doctors started me on many different medications and treatments. Including Group zen.
Now at this time I was lost. I didn't knowi what to do with myself or what I should do. So I started to go to Group. At first I hated it. It sucked. You talked about how you were feeling and why you were feeling that way with a room full of people that you don't know. However, when the Group ended 16 sessions later I was so sad. I had come to realize that there were people out there just as lost as I was and that brought me comfort.
After the sessions ended I found a medication that worked for me. It didn't make me tired and I was starting to feel happy.
The first time I actually felt joy in a long time was when I went to Vancouver with my mom, aunt and cousin. We went to see Broadway: The Lion King. As we sat down in the theatre I felt this surge of joy, the show haven't even started yet. . And I started to cry. I think I confused my aunt because she started fussing over our seating arrangement. But I'll I could do was cry. I haven't felt happy in a long time. It felt so good. I wanted to sing.
The show ended and I was still on cloud nine. I didn't want the feeling to end. I sang. I joked with my cousin. I felt normal.
Now coming to this date January 14, 2016. I was discharged from the Mental Health Clinic on Monday. This doesn't mean that my mental health treatment will end. But it dose mean I can go back to my family doctor. I'm going to a group art studio every week with others who need to reeducate themselves just as I do with being and feeling normal again. I am feeling better then I have in forever. It is still so hard for me to be in a group setting. Or talk to people normally, but I'm getting there. I know I may not get back to my life how it was and I know I won't be able to do a lot of things like I used to. But I will become better at new things.
This year hads been a learning one. I am so grateful for my life that God has blessed me with.
My mom allways said that we have to do our hardest. Then God will meets half way and bless us for working hard. And I really felt that. I worked hard on figuring out how to live with my illnesses and when I got to the point where I could not do anymore. I started to see blessings to help me on my journey.
Im writing this at 1:30am and I keep looking on how much I've grown and I cry. Thank you for reading my Real Talk. It I mean a lot to me.
If you think that you might have depression talk to someone. It's not something to be ashamed of or scared of. It's something you should talk about and figure out.
I hope you have a very nice day.
Cheers MOrgan.
