Why don't psychiatrists recommend the two of these more often? (Well, minus the meds!)
After reading Salty’s post about her father’s suicide, it really got me thinking about my own depression and anxiety. I thought about the good and the bad of it. The good being the self-discovery that came once I was being treated. The bad being, well, the depression and anxiety and the f’d up things that the mind can do.
Up until May of 2003, I lived with secrets and managed to move through life on the wave of other people’s expectations and visions for me. Before I continue, I want to be clear, all of what I’m writing is about me and what was going on within me. I am not trying to paint any people in a negative light. I obviously had choices and my decisions were mine. They may have been made out of my anxiety, fear, and irrational mind, but that is not the fault of those I followed.
I was raised Roman Catholic. When I was in 8th grade, a nun at the school I attended told me that I would make a great nun some day. That got the ball rolling. I had a tendency to do as I was told because I aimed to please and keep the peace. The idea of disappointing my parents and elders caused me major anxiety. So, this statement she made innocently enough, turned into the expectation for my life. Even if I didn’t bring it up to anyone, this nun thing followed me.
Would these be my roommates? Image via annarbor.com
When I got to high school, it still came up. It made me uncomfortable. I didn’t have a lot of friends with whom I socialized outside of school. I hated that, but I was too afraid to get into trouble to go to parties and such. I thought I was a huge loser and would cry on a regular basis. At home, if I was alone, I would cry in my room and cuss myself out for being such a loser. I wished I didn’t exist. Yeah, probably should have been in a therapist’s office, but I didn’t know that and I wasn’t letting my parents in on this. My mom had her own issues. So, I did the best I could and got through.
Fast forward through the high school years and I’m in college. I only applied to one college. It was a safe choice and the one I thought made sense if I was going with the nun thing. I was uncomfortable again when I took some philosophy courses. Something I probably should have paid more attention to at the time instead of burying it, trying to ignore it.
In 2002, I started losing weight, got really sick with mono, and had my breast reduction. I was working out and running. So, I decided to follow the path I thought was laid out for me. In the spring of 2003, on the eve of my 28th birthday, I entered the convent. The next morning and throughout the day, I cried. I dropped another 5lbs in my first week living there. I continued with my running routine….and then, things started to fall apart. I would come home, look at the running shoes, look at my bed and choose the bed. Then, one morning, I sat in the chapel and knew I didn’t belong. I tried to ignore this because I didn’t want to disappoint everyone. I didn’t want to be a quitter. I went to see my parents, it was a Sunday morning and we went to mass. I stood up and walked out in the middle of it. I went to their house and pretty much had a nervous breakdown. I went to my old bedroom, pulled the shades, made the room dark and went to bed.
Both of my parents with me the night before my wedding in 2008. I know unconditional love because of them.
The next morning, my mom came in to check on me. I was a mess and I told her that I just didn’t want to be. She immediately found a psychiatrist and pretty much saved my life. Within the first few minutes of my appointment, he told me I had to get out of the convent. He also put me on meds. Oh, the relief!
As I continued to see him and the medications kicked in, I felt free. The freedom allowed me to say something to my dad that I never thought I would or could. He had been so excited about me being in the convent and I was so afraid of how he would feel about me leaving not only the convent, but the religion. I was able to tell him that I was sorry if I was his biggest disappointment. He looked at me, shocked, and told me that he just wanted me to be happy in my life. After that, our relationship changed. It is weird to say, but I think it made us closer.
Dancing with my dad at my wedding in 2008. I love him.
My running never got back to what it was, but I know it needs to. My depression is difficult to treat. I’ve been on a variety of meds because of built up tolerances. I have a psychiatrist and a psychologist. I have tried to come off of meds and have come to the conclusion that I will always need to take some kind of medication. It sucks, but I’m okay with it. In order to feel better about the medication and in hopes of not having to change meds regularly, I have added vitamins, fish oil, and live in a state with 300+ days of sun. Now, I’m throwing running back into the mix. I’m running to get out of my head, but also to get into it deeper; to get away from myself in order to become a better self.
I remember talking to you about the “nun thing” in high school and you were always very apprehensive to talk about it. I just assumed that it was because you felt like none of us would understand it or that you were worried that heathens like me would judge you for it. I always respected it and thought it was “cool.” FWTW! Do you think you changed your mind or do you think you were sort of brainwashed into thinking that was what you wanted? I can’t imagine having to live that lie (?) for so many years. It would make anyone nuts! If it wasn’t what you wanted for yourself you were kind of in the reverse Catholic closet or something. I’m sad that you gave up running in the midst of your depression. I wonder how much it would have\will help. I hope a lot!!! Thanks so much for sharing your story with us!!!
I’d say ‘brainwashed’ may be a strong word. A whole other post could be about my mom’s depression while I was growing up. I think I learned to cope with my mom by not wanting to make waves and to do as I was told. Rather than making big choices for myself, I followed what was expected. At the same time, I was dealing with my secret lack of faith (that I’m pretty sure already started at my 1st Communion). I thought being around Church would make me believe. I don’t think I was lying so much as trying to convince myself.
Anyway, I think the funny thing about you thinking it was ‘cool’ is that I always wanted to be more like you—think freely, challenge Mr. Raddell, etc. I was too afraid. At that time, I didn’t understand that my parents would love me for me.
Love you, Meg
Wow – what an amazing journey. My husband’s great aunt was a dominican nun (she died a couple of years ago) and I spent a weekend in the convent. It definitely would have to take someone who really WANTS to be there to live that lifestyle. Although I did wonder what brought each of them there. Needless to say, I am so glad you got out since you did not want to be there. You would have lived an entire life that was not your own. Thanks for sharing and good luck getting back at it and being a *more full* you (I don’t think better is the right word). :)
Wow! What a fascinating story! Thank you for sharing, Nutmeg. You have the best spice name by the way :) Since I’m going through a spiritual transformation right now, I’ll have to email ya soon to get some of your interesting insight :)
Thanks for sharing your story! When I was a kid I wanted to be a nun, until I realized it was a Catholic thing & our church didn’t have nuns. Oops.
Have Bipolar Disorder with heavy periods of depression I understand so much of what you’re talking about, including the acceptance that you will need these meds for the rest of your life & running to be a better person not just physically but mentally. Regular “exercise” is some of the best medicine there is.
Good luck with everything!