I am doing okay.

8.8.2020, 12:22AM

Sometimes I wish that I could fast forward through the next five years. Skip past the hustle and grind, not pinch pennies to make rent, advance in my career, and to settle in to the rest of my life.

Life is really fucking hard. Like really hard. Harder than I expected, but 15 year old me never thought 24 year old me would be around and living the life I am. I’m better than I thought it I would be but I’m not living the life I am.

Looking around it feels like everyone has their life together. Everyone has it just about figured out, my high school friends are getting engaged, even married. My college friends are buying houses, and my coworkers are having kids. Life seems to be moving faster for everyone else and I want in.

I love my little family and my home, I love my job and my car and all the wonderful things I have. I love my friends, though few in quantity and far in distance, I’m supported no matter how far they are. My life is good and I am okay.

Even though I know in my head that my life is good, I worry if any of this is real. I worry that I will wake up and lose everything I have worked for. I worry irrationally and all of the time. Knowing that the thoughts are irrational is half the battle, but the other half is still hard. The other half is filled with doubt, doubt of others intentions, doubt of love, worthiness, and trust. I think I’m fake, and someday everyone will catch on and see it’s an act. It’s not an act, I know that. Irrational.

About a year and a half ago I scheduled my first therapy appointment. I walk in, depressed and anxious as can be, and unpack as much as I can as quickly as I could so it wouldn’t hurt as badly. Like ripping off a huge bandaid but in front of a complete stranger.

My therapist is my sounding board, my voice of reason, and even at times my cheerleader. When my therapist felt as if I wasn’t making much progress in treating my depression, she referred my to a psychiatrist and we begun the medication tango.

Wellbutrin, clonidine, lexapro, zoloft. Those are the four I’ve tried, currently I’m taking all but lexapro. The journey has been a literal roller coaster but slowly we are getting a good balance that works for me. The self care and therapy and coping skills are half of it, my medication is the other half. I’ve never been ashamed, the outcome has been too positive.

I’m working so hard on myself but I still want to skip ahead. I want to enjoy the here and now, the today, the present. I want to picture myself 80 and happy. But me as a happy 80 year old won’t be happy if I waste my time being sad about money or stressing over work. I have to become the woman I am meant to be.

I have it together more than I’ll ever give myself credit for. I’m a badass, working a cool and exciting job and making the world a better place. I am compassionate and honest and healthy. People want to be around me, they’re just also busy. I am doing okay, I am okay.

This is hard, but as my favorite human being Glennon Doyle repeatedly says, “We can do hard things”.

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