Hi guys, long time no see.

I’m breaking my silence today because I have a lot to share. This is probably gonna be long, so bear with me.

Today, we’re gonna talk about self care. And I really wish that meant I was gonna talk about face masks, mental health days, and fuzzy socks. But we gotta talk about the ugly side of self care where you have to do things you really do not wanna do.

It’s really difficult to call yourself on your own bullshit. It really is. I won’t discredit that battle for a second. But if you’ve been in my shoes, where depression rules your life and just existing is painful then I really hope that me sharing this will help you dig yourself out of the hole.

Back in September, I don’t really know what happened, but I hit a wall. I took a good look at my life and even though I was so unhappy and had been trying for years to change it, something had finally clicked. Since then, I’ve made a lot of changes and I’m exceptionally happy to say that I made it to the other side.

So what changed? A lot. But I’ll try my best to go in order. Sorry for the lack of detail, but it’s a long story.

I went to church. This one sounds silly and I apologize if church talk isn’t your thing, so feel free to skip this chunk. It was a big deal for me to go back. I had been an atheist since a childhood friend of mine committed suicide when I was in 8th grade, it just became too painful to try to believe. But, my friend, Mahala talked me into going during our trip to Crater Lake and there was no harm in giving it a try. I was a nervous wreck but it meant a lot to her for me to go.

The sermon that was given that day was about suffering. How appropriate. It also felt like some sort of cruel joke. It was one of those sermons where you know you’re getting called out and it’s kind of a wake up call. Sort of all at once I realized that I didn’t have to live in misery anymore. I had everything I needed to make the changes I needed, so off I went.

God has a funny way of telling us when it’s time to go. And it was my time to go. I prayed for help to get my life on track. So what did he tell me to do?

I went to my doctor. I had a very serious discussion about my depression and how bad it really was. I have this bad habit of significantly downplaying how bad it had gotten, and was surprised when I couldn’t get help. I had to be honest. I had grand plans of elegantly describing my problems and maintaining my composure, but when it came down to it, I just looked into Dr. Laurenson’s eyes and broke down in tears, unable to say anything but “I just need help.”

She started me on Zoloft. I was fully prepared for it to take months to find the correct medication and the correct dose, but I was so lucky to get it right on the first try. I wish I could describe what it was like to not have depression for the first time in 10 years. I woke up happy. I didn’t struggle to shower. I smiled. I laughed. I listened to music and enjoyed it. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to put into words how intoxicating that feeling was.

So Morgan, why did you avoid getting help for so long?

I’m glad you asked.

Because of the toxic idea that depression makes you weak, and all you have to do is tell yourself to be happy and you’ll be cured. That people are over medicated nowadays and you dont need pills to be normal.

All of that is garbage. If you can’t make your own neurotransmitters, store bought is fine. If you need pills, then gawd dammit, take pills. It’s okay. If I had known all it took for me to not hate being alive anymore was one tiny pill, I would have done it years ago!

Never be ashamed of what you have to do to be healthy. Never feel like you have to hide it. Don’t go hide in the bathroom to take your meds. You’re taking care of yourself and that’s between you and your doctor.

The next thing I did was admit to myself that it was time to go back to CNA work. I fought tooth and nail avoiding it, but I knew it’s what God wanted from me. I reluctantly applied to Avamere Rehab, in my hometown, and I had an interview two hours later. I was a nervous wreck.

I got the job, and on October 1st, I found myself standing in the nurses station, feeling a little awkward in my pink scrubs. I decided then that I was gonna be the most annoyingly positive and peppy person any of these people had the displeasure of working with. Every day, I forced myself to bounce into work at 6am in my pastel scrubs and a cheesy smile on my face.

There were plenty of days where I had no desire to smile. I wanted to be grumpy and complain and fall back into the comfort of my hole of self loathing. But I kept going, because I just had this deep feeling of this is my last chance and I needed to succeed like I needed to breathe. So here I am, several months later, still coming into work just as annoying as the first day. My coworkers have gotten used to my relentless positivity and some of them told me it makes them happy too. My residents love me, and I absolutely adore everyone I take care of.

I’m telling you all of this, because even though “just be happy” is absolutely not a cure for depression, when combined with medication and good therapy, it works wonders. I’m excited to go to work every day. I can’t wait to put on my bright scrubs and say good morning to all my residents, and dole out hugs and coffee.

My job is really hard, but it makes my heart warm knowing I’m doing exactly what God has called me to do, and I’ll stay there until he tells me where to go next.

It’s impossible to work such an emotionally demanding job without a good support system, which takes me to my next topic.

The next part was the hardest thing for me to do in this whole “changing my life for the better” thing. I had to admit to myself that the relationship I had been in since I was 11 years old was toxic and it was destroying me.

I’m gonna be intentionally vague in this next piece, because I still want to respect my ex-boyfriend’s privacy, so sorry in advance.

I had been unhappy in my relationship for about three years by that point. I stayed because I loved his family and I still do, and I still consider them part of my family. That won’t ever change. I also just felt safe in that relationship. It made me feel awful but at least it was predictable. I was afraid of the idea of starting over and it was just easier to stay. My self esteem had gotten to the point of “well, he’s probably the only one who will ever put up with me and how terrible I am so I can’t leave”. And as hard as it was to say, I didn’t love the person he was, I loved the person he used to be. I held onto the hope that if I did everything right and made him happy, then the person he was would come back. I was a frog in boiling water. I could keep going, and in hindsight my thinking was messed up, but I was down so deep in that hole, and so cut off from other means of support I thought it was the only way.

So I put up with the garbage way he treated me for a long, long time. But as I started digging my way out of the hole, I started seeing all of the red flags. I could tell you the exact moment I knew we were over, and I’m sad to say that despite that, I still stayed longer than I should have.

I won’t pretend he was the bad guy, I did a lot of things to him I shouldn’t have also. No one is totally innocent here. After we broke up, we tried really hard to remain friends, but in the months after that we just did too many things to hurt each other and after a certain point I had to realize that there wasn’t anything left worth saving, so I cut ties.

It hurt. I cried over it. But if something disturbs your peace, sometimes its better to just let go. I still find myself getting angry over the whole thing. Sometimes I’ll remember something and it’ll hit me like a ton of bricks and I have to yell and swear and be angry at the things he did to me. And that’s okay. I just have to remind myself that it’s over and I never have to go back. Never again.

So with what I thought was my entire support system gone, I started to rebuild.

I started to reconnect with my friends. Coffee dates, sleepovers, DnD nights. My support system was a lot bigger than I thought, I was just cut off for so long that I couldnt see that.

My friends helped me realize my self worth. I never even realized how poorly I let people treat me until I experienced healthy friendships. How amazing is it that there’s an entire group of people who love me, support me, and enjoy being around me?

There was one day they asked me if I planned on dating again anytime soon. I jokingly told them that my ego was now huge and no man/woman could ever live up to the impossible standards I had set up. One of my friends asked me what those standards were, and I started listing them off. At the end, he just quiet for a second and said “Morgan, those aren’t impossible standards, that’s just a relationship.”

Oof. That hurt.

There have been a lot of little moments like that. I can’t list them all because this post would take hours to write.

Setting boundaries for how I’ll allow people to treat me has been very important. I was such a doormat before. Always quick to take the blame. Quick to forgive. Quick to shut up and put my head down. I look back and I’m horrified by the things I used to tolerate. Being willing to tell people no, you do not get to treat me like that was a game changer. No more. Never again.

I have people now who love and value me, and treat me the way I should be treated. I’ll be damned if I ever give that up.

The last six months have been hard. I’ve had to do a lot of things I thought I would never do. I’ve turned my life upside down. I’ve burned bridges. Built new ones.

But it’s also been the happiest time of my life. I’m so in love with being alive. So, so in love. I literally just burst into happy tears sometimes because I’m just so thankful. I never thought I would see the other side. But here I am.

A recurring theme through all of this for me has been “Never again.”

Everytime I start panicking that I’m gonna slip back into the hole, find myself in another toxic relationship, start making the same old mistakes, and throw away all my progress and happiness I just remind myself. “Never again.”

Its cheesy, but effective. I’ve said it in anger, I’ve said it in sadness, I’ve said it in happiness. I’ve said it with tears in my eyes, and I’ve said it with a smile on my face. Never again do I have to go back to my old life.

So to anyone who hasn’t made it to the other side yet, please hear me. Do. Not. Give. Up. There is a way out. If you’ve been fighting your battle for just a couple months, or for years. The happiness you get at the end is worth whatever hell you’ve been through.

It feels impossible at times. But it isn’t. Find whatever it is you need to tell yourself to set your soul on fire and go.