Going to Treatment & Discharging

My mental health journey is not a new one, but a new found respect for myself to allow to recover and heal.

My childhood, I cant remember a lot about, but I know it had good moments. My memory goes back to about seventh grade where I cant remember much from anything before. My family remembers but I can't. In Sixth grade most everyone knows that I lost my cousin Max, and my parents separated. Being young and not understanding what was going on ended up hurting me more in the long run. As I continued to grow up, I used the internet to learn more about the things in life that were going on around me. These things had created an anxiety for me around certain things like flying, going to unknown places, or leaving my parents for long periods of time. I didn't think this was anything. I thought it was normal even though others around me weren't experiencing the same things. My parents gave me all they had, they coddled me because that is what I needed.

When I went into high school, most of anxiety disappeared , sophomore year I was faced with debilitating headaches taking me out of everything around me - school, sports, social life, and everything in between. Being at the doctor and obsessed about my health created a severe anxiety around doing anything where I could potentially not feel well. I was paralyzed by my anxiety in doing the things I loved because of fear. COVID, was a blessing in disguise. I was so thankful for having to be home because I was terrified to go to school for more than 20 minutes or go out with friends. I lived within fear for about 5 months until school went online. I was excited - I could still get my attendance and be home! Again, my anxiety slowly fizzled out as we started to experiment with different medicines and learn more about my habits. When it was time to come back to school, as a senior, I was excited and ready. But honestly, I had no idea what I was getting into. In the first two weeks of school I had a family member pass away, and a few weeks later another loss happened. My anxiety was uprooted again, and I couldn't stay in school. I reached out for help and did a couple assessments with centers who all said I needed PHP (partial hospitalization program). When I heard that over and over again, I told myself I needed to be okay. I started attending school fully everyday, going to every social event and being extremely independent. I told everyone that "I cured myself". Well, I indeed did not. I went on a trip, where a panic attack I had sent me to treatment. In early December i admitted into PHP, stayed until mid January, moved to IOP the week later, and now the first week of March discharged. It took me 3 months to be okay and accept my mental health. I was ashamed that I had a mental health podcast but couldn't help myself. I was afraid to not show up at school and then a party, I was afraid I'd lose everything I'd worked so hard for.

Treatment was the scariest decision I've had to make. I learned about the things that trigger me, things I need to work on and identify, but not only that - I met people who have changed my life. Hearing other peoples stories, relating to them and then supporting each other is a type of love and support I never knew was out there. I urge those who are also struggling to allow the light to peek in. I didn't think I could learn so much, I didn't think i could get help, but most importantly I didn't want it. I was embarrassed and ashamed of how I was feeling. But now, Im feeling proud. Accomplished. Empowered. Life is absolutely worth living & I hope if you are reading this, you also know that.

💌This is the happy girl I remember and plan to keep remembering. 💌

All My Love, Lily 💝