As you can imagine, my mental health is something I battle during my flares of Myasthenia gravis. But my anxiety and depression started way before then.
I was always the worrier in my family. Some days, worrying was all I could do. I grew up in an amazing home with loving parents where I could have easily been happy and carefree – but I worried about EVERYTHING. It was hard for me to understand why people weren’t worried about the things I was worried about, and I didn’t know how to stop.
Some of the thoughts and emotions I had growing up, I didn’t realize they were abnormal until I started therapy last year. I’m not ashamed to admit that I have multiple mental health diagnosis, which I treat with talk therapy and medications. My emotions have always been on the surface – my heart on my sleeve. But being sick, spending so much time in hospitals, and having three miscarriages, it all hit me really hard, very quickly.
I still struggle every day, to be completely honest. Some days, I’m on top of the world and loving every minute. Other days, I’m calling my therapist for an emergency session.
I thought I was crazy for worrying about others all of the time. I feed off other peoples’ energy. But I’ve learned that this thing I’ve battled my entire life is actually not a weakness. My empathy for people is incredible. It’s what makes me a good wife, sister, daughter, foster mom, etc. This only becomes a problem if I let it consume me, and I don’t take care of my own needs and emotions aside from everyone else. I’m finding a very good place where I can be empathetic toward others and still love and care for myself, but it’s a lot of work.
I don’t think I’ll ever perfect this cycle. I don’t think I’ll ever stop worrying. But that’s part of what makes me, me.
