Rising from the Ashes

Mental health is something that I hold dear to my heart because I have been in the trenches. I know what it feels like to be drowning, what it feels like to not be able to breathe, and what it feels like when you just want the pain to stop.

College Years: Finding and Losing Myself

It was 2009, and I was in my sophomore year at college just chilling in my dorm room when someone knocks on my door. She was very nice and invited me to come watch some flag football and I agreed. As the weeks went by of getting to know her, she introduced me to this campus ministry she was a part of called Campus Outreach (CO). I grew up going to a Christian school from third grade to graduation so at the time it aligned with who I was. Through that group, I started making friends and I thought to myself finally I have people to hang out with on this big campus. However, little did I know that it was going to become where I began to lose myself trying to fit in.

Summer of 2010, I went to their summer program called the Summer Orlando Project or SOP for short. I came back to campus that fall and moved into Campus Towers where I knew most people from SOP were living. The first weekend back on campus, we were planning on getting together. I waited by my phone for us to go out to eat or something, but I never got a text until it was time to go to someone's house for the get together. I had not eaten that whole day while they had gone out to Cookout that day. I was a somewhat reserved person but over time I observed that the more outgoing people in CO were the more popular ones. That is when I started to try and change myself to try and fit in better.

A thing that happens after SOP, you are put into discipleship groups aka D-groups, which is a small group of four people to be able to help each other continue to grow spiritually. My D-group leader was the very same person who knocked on my door during my sophomore year. The other two I had met while we were at SOP. The rest of that year in that D-group would change everything. Throughout my time in the D-group, I often felt excluded. My friends would hang out without inviting me, and I frequently found out about their plans after the fact. These moments left me feeling isolated and questioning my place in the group he other three started to become close with each other and I just felt left out. I had brought it up but it felt like nobody was listening to what I was saying.

That winter of 2011, CO had this thing called New Years Project aka NYP. During one of the larger sessions, it was announced that the very first friend I had made at college was going to Malaysia for missionary work. I broke down crying because despite everything that had happened before it felt like a familiar piece was being taken away from me. After the session, was over I went to go talk with her and she was with the other two that had been in my D-group but yet again I was on the outside.

Fast forward to spring of 2012, me and one person from the D-group were actually living in the same dorm suite. Her door was closed and as I was leaving to go somewhere I knocked on the door just to say hello and come to find out she and the other person from the D-group who was in town visiting were skyping with our leader who was now in Malaysia. It felt like a gut punch because I knew nothing about it and of course, I would have loved to have been able to speak with her but I did not stay long because I felt like I was intruding. After that I sent her a very strongly worded Facebook message severing all ties with her. I had had enough with being left out.

During this time, I coped by airing my problems out on social media. I sub-tweeted on Twitter and shaded people on Facebook. At the time, I thought if people were not listening to me when I actually brought up what was bothering me. Then maybe they would listen to me via what I said on social media. Obviously, that created more division and friction. I had slowly changed myself to try and become more popular but by doing that I lost myself.

At this point, my mental health deteriorated. I felt hopeless and even researched ways to end my life. Recognizing something was wrong, I sought help from a therapist. In May 2011, I was diagnosed with severe depression and anxiety. After that, I told the people in my D-group in a group text and no one said anything back. I knew that I was alone while trying to figure this whole thing out. I was started on Celexa but I quit taking it after only a week because it made me feel weird. Over the years, I had tried therapy but I never stuck with it because I always thought I could take care of everything on my own.

Professional Challenges in the NICU

Now I have graduated college in 2013 and move back home where everything was okay because I was away from that toxic environment and those people. Then I started my staff job in 2017, where I felt like the same thing was happening again as it did in college when it came to getting to know those in my cohort. I had my guard up because I really did not want history to repeat itself. I did not allow myself to get too close to them even though I really wanted to. The challenges I faced as a new grad in the NICU took a toll on my mental health. I reverted to unhealthy coping mechanisms, like airing my frustrations on social media. And once again, it created more division and friction.

While that was going on, I was having a tough time as a new grad in the NICU. The first two years was hell. My nightshift preceptor reprimanded me in front of parents, leaving me humiliated. They had asked me what blood type their daughter was while I was in the process of scanning the blood. All the while their other daughter was actively decompensating and it wasn't like the timeframe to start the blood was going to run out if I took two seconds to answer the parent's question. The nursing educator questioned me on where I got my nursing degree from and told me she did not think that I was a great fit for the NICU. I was yelled at by a dayshift nurse who also during a shift came over to the pod I was at for no reason whatsoever. There were some things going on with my patients that were out of my control but I was handling it but of course she had to put her two cents in. When I do not even know why she was over there in the first place. It just felt like I constantly had people monitoring me instead of mentoring me.

Lessons Learned from a Difficult Friendship

After those first two to two and a half years, I had finally found a group of people I became close to. However, over time one of those friendships had become toxic. I had already had one friendship end and that was tough trying to work through that. Back to this other friendship, she started to make passive-aggressive comments and jokes towards me in which I brushed off because I became conditioned to just keep the peace and I did not want to be alone. She traveled a lot and I thought being friends that it was okay to ask if maybe one day I could go on a trip with her. Of course, she says maybe you should go by yourself which is fine but at the time I thought, if we are friends wouldn't you want to show the world to your friends. So needless to say that it was a point of contention in our friendship.

She invited me to her birthday party where I knew I was not wanted there based on the way she acted toward me. I talked about this with our other friends which I should not have gone because I found out that they would go back and tell her which left me feeling betrayed. After that we decided to give each other space and that was just a blow to me especially after still coming off of another friendship breakup. Spoiler alert, months after I started therapy, I decided it was best for me to not rekindle that friendship but to instead end it altogether because it no longer served the person I was becoming. Throughout college and my early career, I often felt isolated-whether it was being left out by friends or struggling to connect with colleagues. This sense of exclusion deeply impacted my mental health, leading to moments of despair and a long journey toward seeking help.

The Turning Point: Seeking Help

One of my darkest moments came while sitting in my pod at work, overwhelmed and in desperate need of help. I texted the crisis text line where I was able to talk through things and it did help. I, then, went over to the other side of the pod I was in where a person who I trusted and knew had gone through similar things in the past was. I asked her who her therapist was and naturally she asked me what was going on. I just had this emotional release as I told her what had been going on and just cried into her arms. She kindly offered for me to stay at her place in her loft after we got off of work so I would not be alone but I declined because I just wanted to be somewhere familiar like my apartment.

When I got off of work that morning I stayed up and researched therapists in the Greenville area. I called each one and of course there was a waitlist, but I finally thought to call our employee health clinic and luckily they could see me that morning. I went in and my provider was able to refer me to a therapist and get me started on Zoloft. For the first time during this battle with mental health, I felt a glimmer of hope and I was actually determined to stick with therapy and medication this time around. I got in touch with the therapist I was referred to and of course my appointment wasn't until July but still I had something to look forward to and in the meantime I started on my medication.

Later, that week, I sat in the breakroom, feeling like I was i slow motion while everyone else moved ten times faster. Yes, I had started on medication but I still was not okay as SSRIs take six to eight weeks for the medication to take full effect. After getting report, I had to put on a brave face because I had parents there who were asking me questions. They left and I went to the Pyxis to grab some medications when the charge nurse comes up to me just to ask if I was doing okay. Of course I wasn't and that is when I broke down and kept repeating that I needed to go home and I couldn't be here at work.

I refer to that as my mental breakdown at work. I took the weekend off to recover. In July, I started therapy and I started to heal. It felt freeing being able to take openly to someone who did not know anything about me. I talked about things that I had blocked because I did not want to be reminded of those painful memories. Through our sessions, I learned tools and ways to re-center myself when negative self-talk and bouts of depression/anxiety would start to arise. I was beginning the journey back to myself.

Now, I do want to acknowledge my part in my journey. I was not without fault. I pushed people away because of the things I would say on social media. I would lash out. I did not emotionally regulate myself well. I can only take account for my actions and the role I played throughout everything. That is not to downplay what I have said but I don't want someone reading this and thinking this is one-sided or that I am playing the victim. I can only tell my side of things as the other people are not around to tell theirs. I am not proud of the way I handle things back then but I thought I was doing what I thought was right. Clearly, it was not and this is not an excuse or anything as I was a full fledged adult, however, I was doing the best I could at the time the only way I knew how until I learned through therapy better ways to handle life situations.

Rising from the Ashes: A New Beginning

I felt like the need for a fresh start. That's when I began researching travel nursing. Travel nursing wasn't something that was new to me. I had thought about it before but I just wasn't ready personally or professionally. Now, I know that is a crazy turnaround from having a mental b back in May to thinking about doing travel nursing in December. Maybe, subconsciously, I was trying to run away from everything that has happened. Maybe I wanted to prove people wrong. After, I gathered all of my research and told my parents my plans, it was decided that I was going to take the plunge and do travel nursing that May of 2022. Little did I know what I was in for by taking a risk and leaving all the comforts of home.

It has been four years since I embarked on that journey. Words cannot fully capture the personal glow up I have been through. In the beginning, there were some growing pains but that comes with anything you start new. It has been so nice having a clean slate and finally being able to breathe. I often stop myself and realize I am living the life I once so badly wanted for myself when I was drowning. I fought so hard to become the woman I am today and I am so proud of myself for not giving up. God told me there was something better for me out there so just hold on I promise it will be worth it. That along with the love I have for my parents kept me going even though so many times I wanted the pain to stop. I have met so many people along the way that has enriched my life for the better. I live every day in immense gratitude.