Learning to walk again.

I want to take a little bit, to shed some light on what has been going on the past couple of months.
I realize a bunch of you probably think I'm just going insane/losing my mind, and I get why you'd think that. Others of you are reaching out constantly to grab my hand when I slip back a little even if you don't really know what's wrong with me... offering daily reminders of support and love...and to you, I thank you endlessly.
So here is a post about what I have been going through, about my journey, and small victories. Be warned that there are a lot of dark things in this post. Some of it may be hard to read, and I apologize in advance. I just want to put my story down. Maybe one day it'll save someone, or maybe it'll save me again.
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I had my first anxiety attack when I was in 6th grade, and have been having them pretty regularly all the way up to the present. I went through the past couple years being able to hide them really well. The past few months though, they have gotten completely out of control, to the point where they were dictating how I was able to live every day. I was having upwards of 4+ severe attacks daily.

I remember them all vividly. That sudden overwhelming feeling that takes over your entire body. Will you live through it? Will you ever stop hyperventilating? Why are my lips and hands completely numb? Am I dying? I have no control over anything, including myself. I hate this. I hate myself. I want to disappear. I'm slipping. This is the most embarassing thing ever to go through when other people are around. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I hate dragging people down with me.

Anxiety attacks are not something that you can just "get over". Even more so since I've been experiencing them for 15 years. They've become a part of my life, to the point where they are in a sick way, kind of routine.
What brings these attacks on? Myself. How I react to situations. How I react to other people in my life. How the past is constantly dictating my future. The sad reality is though, that they all are brought on by the way I think and handle things. I hate admitting that.

The past couple months specifically, I have tried my hardest to try and be proactive about getting some help. The main reason for this was at first for Jesse's sake. Because who wants to be around someone who is so fragile, much less date them and spend their life with them? I feared constantly that he would leave me once he started to experience more of me...I can't be "on" 24/7. It is exhausting. That fear of abandonment that I have fought with for years due to many events in my life, was rekindled, and I found myself constantly fearing that he would leave me. The thing is, I wouldn't blame him. No one else ever stuck around, why should he? Why would he?

Another thing that really brought on the anxiety attacks, was oddly enough, how wonderful my life is these days. Doesn't make sense does it? Well in my mind it did...
My life is beautiful. I have a great family, amazing friends, I have finally met the love of my life. I am back in Oregon, able to explore till my heart is content. Why would this bring anxiety on? Because it's more to lose. I've had my entire life pulled out from under me once, why wouldn't it happen again? I barely survived last time, and I knew I wouldn't survive this time.

So that's when the great "push away" started up again. Wanting to end the good things in my life, before God or the actual individuals ended them without warning. Wanting to distance myself, not wanting to cause pain, frustration, confusion, worry, or sadness to those around me that I love most. The only thing that made sense in my mind, was to disappear.

The desire to end my life is what I thought of almost every single minute for quite a long time. The thought filled with me such a calm. Not having to fight these demons anymore, not having to be exhausted day in and day out, not having to pretend like nothing is wrong in front of people, no more acting, no more pain, no more fear. Death was my salvation from life. Even typing this, it still just...it would be so nice not to have to deal with any of this.
There was one day specifically that sticks out in my mind. I drove up and down the Oregon Coast, exploring cliffs. The cliffs outside of Yachats, by Cape Perpetua, that is where I wanted to die. Driving off a cliff would be the easiest way, and it would also look like an accident. Plus, there was something gross and romantic about me dying in the ocean. That was my plan. I almost went through with it that day, but I didn't leave any kind of "goodbye" behind for Jesse and my parents and brother. I couldn't make it that easy. I had to at least leave a note of love...maybe one day they'd understand why. The urge to drive over those rocky Pacific ocean cliffs, was growing and feeling more and more like the exact answer to my problems. I just had to leave on a good note with those I care about. So I drove back to the cabin where Jess lives, the farther I got from the cliffs, the more pain and frustration I felt. It's incredible how your mind can be your worst enemy..but at the same time, feels like your only friend. The only one who "gets" you.

After that day, all I could really focus on was leaving this world, and this pain behind. Going to work everyday was hell. Going home after work was hell. I was afraid to be around Jesse because he would just grow to resent me for being such a downer constantly. Things just kept getting worse and worse. I tried a few feeble attempts to be open with him about what I was going through, but it never came out right and I think a lot of the feelings, fear, and pain were lost in translation. I just was coming off as "sad depressed for no reason Jamie".

It all continued to spiral out of control on a daily basis...which brings us to the past couple weeks. A girl who is constantly thinking suicidal thoughts, surrounded by people that love her, that have no idea what to do to make her better. I hate being that girl. I hate having that kind of effect on those I love most.
I would run away for hours on end, fighting with my mind, with the darkness. Wishing someone would follow me, and help me, but at the same time craving to be alone so I wouldn't bring anyone down with me. I've done everything up to the point alone, my life would eventually end on my own.

Then after a night out in my car in 15 degree weather, sobbing and yelling to no one for hours in the Winco parking lot, punching my car until my knuckles bled out of frustration, after 6 days of not sleeping at all...Jesse told me I could no longer do this alone.
He peeled me out of my car that cold frosty morning, and drove me to Salem, where his amazing mom had a hot bath waiting for me, and a cozy bed filled with pillows for me to hide in. I couldn't be alone anymore. I had to be watched and monitored. Jesse was the only person I wanted to be around...at my absolute rock bottom, I didn't trust anyone else. I was beyond exhausted, I was mad, I was hurt, I was frustrated, I felt like a lab rat, yet I also felt love, I felt support and warmth.
My doctor prescribed me xanax. I have feared prescription meds since I can remember, so taking these was a really big deal to me, and trust me...I fought, but in my condition, I wasn't very strong. I took the xanax, and turned into a lethargic zombie. I still couldn't find any sleep. Nothing felt comfortable. I longed to be back in my car, by the cliffs.

The next morning, my mom came and picked me up in Salem. I was still a zombie after taking more xanax. A prescription of antidepressants were prescribed, and picked up at the Walgreens in Salem. I felt completely out of control of my own life...even more so than I did in the past. I didn't know who I was or why I was still alive. For quite a few days, I was just in this haze...it sounds crazy, but looking back on those numb days of exhaustion, I view them as if I was a fly on the wall. Not the girl curled up in fetal position, sobbing, hyperventilating, shaking.

I cannot express how badly it feels, to know you are causing your parents so much worry and stress. To be causing your boyfriend to worry for your life. To be this sad, dark, puddle in everyone's lives. Those same people who are trying to help you, trying to show you that they love you. You give nothing back to them but tears and distress.

The past 2 weeks almost feel as if they were just a really long nightmare. Days on end I would stay curled up in bed, crying, not eating, not sleeping...basically not existing, besides taking pills, and being a squishy breathing pillow for my cat to sleep on all day. The meds the doctor prescribed me weren't doing anything, which killed what tiny microscopic bit of hope that I had. In my mind, I was just going to die here. I was just going to eventually evaporate into the air, and then finally, everyone could go on with their lives.

Well, we come to find out the dosage of SSRI drugs my doctor gave me, was way too low. My meds were increased 4x to what I was taking, and within a couple days, I actually smiled. I woke up and saw Jesse sleeping on the couch in my parents basement, and I felt a sense of hope. Thinking about it, brings tears to my eyes right now. He was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. And through it all, he still loved me.

I have been on the higher dosage of meds for a little over a week now. I am functioning again, but haven't done anything yet to really fix my problems long term. These pills are merely increasing my serotonin levels in my brain, which is helping, but is not a permanent thing. This is when the real work, when the real fight for my life starts. Now I have to get into therapy, and NOT give up like countless times in the past. Now I have to fight to survive, to train my mind into thinking that dying is not the answer. I'll be honest, not 5min goes by where I don't have to push that thought out of my mind. The great re-training of my brain.I have to learn how to take care of myself, and allow myself to take care of myself. I have to learn to quiet my constant fears and anxieties that are buzzing around my mind. I have to learn how to just...be. It scares me and feels like it is this massive mountain that I will never ever be able to scale...but at the same time, an outpouring of love and support from those around me, from YOU,  is lifting me up, and giving me the hope I need to keep taking one step at a time.
I cannot do this alone, and I don't want to do this alone. I don't want to slip backwards...I want to constantly be moving forward, even if it's a millimeter at a time some days. I want to take the necessary steps to become the person I want to be, to act as a bright shining light in this world, to have the strength to properly take care of myself AND those around me. To spread a constant message of love and hope, to be the change.

I know I will have rough patches. That's just the reality of the situation, but I truly have faith that I will get better and I will come out shining brighter than ever. I will keep loving. I will keep fighting. For myself, for Jesse, for my parents, my brother, my friends, and my future children.

One foot in front of the other.

Thank you for taking the time to read this. I hope it has some kind of positive impact on you. I love you.
I want to give specific shout outs to those who have really helped me through this incredibly hard point in my life...who have been there when I needed you most.

To Jesse. I will never have enough words to properly explain what you mean to me, how much I love you,and how blessed I feel since God placed you in my life. I feel your love constantly, and to be honest, I would not be here writing this today, if it wasn't for you. You are my sunshine. I love you. Forever.

To my parents. Thank you for providing me with a safe environment that I could start to heal in. For not giving me an option. For never giving up on me, even when I tried my hardest to push you away. For loving me unconditionally. I love you both so much, and am so grateful to call you my parents.

To Clair. For the messages. For letting me know that when I felt most alone, I was surrounded with people that care about me. For reminding me that I am not the first, nor last person, to ever go through this kind of thing. And for patting me on the back during my little victories (like not cancelling dr. appointments due to anxiety etc). I love you so much. Thank you.

For my huge array of amazing friends including my brother Johnny, Sonja, Sonja's parents, Haley, Eric, Michael, Arielle, Mama Connie, Papa Tim, Marcy, Tayaka and baby Hannah, Jessica T., Jim Burke, Ashley S., Jenny R, Kelly W, Mike K, Sarah K, Trudy E, Diana W, Emily P, Jenna M,  Kellie M, Jimi T, Annie H, Shane W, Amanda F, Jamie D, Carmen R, Lissy C, Donna C, Michelle V, Kathleen M, Caleb baby, Angela, My aunt Barb, Janelle, Emily J, Linda K, Douglas E, Bethany D, Leslie...and countless others who have raised me up in my lowest of lows with your words of encouragement, love, and suggestions...thank you. Thank you so so much. I love you, and with your love, I will get through this and come out shining. I love you.