In my quest to keep things real and to open up dialogue about living with mental illness, I feel that I should muse about the ups and downs of the past couple of months and the struggle that is living with depression and anxiety. At the end of March my life hit the skids. I woke up super early on a Monday morning completely convinced that the world was going to come to an end and there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it. Then came the uncontrollable crying and knowing that my fear was not rational or logical. The struggle to function was laborious. My self care bottomed to mere survival. Getting out of bed and eating were difficult. I ended up missing two weeks of work. The first week battling with myself and trying to will myself better and the second week adjusting to an increase in my antidepressant after I womaned up and called my psychiatrist for an appointment. I struggled to run. After I did a run and didn’t feel the normal endorphin boost that running gives me, I knew that there was something seriously off and I made the appointment that I should have made a few days earlier. Of course all of this craziness happened just before my goal half marathon, Rock the Parkway, in Kansas City.

Through this journey, I have discovered the awesomeness that my friends, roommates and boyfriend bring to my corner of the world. Being open and honest about the brutality of my depression and anxiety with people that I trust and care greatly about is scary as fuck. When my depression and anxiety act up my vulnerability becomes a thousand times stronger…and I hate being vulnerable. I’m working on being more comfortable with the uncomfortableness of vulnerability.