Seeking Help: How I Take Care of My Mental Health

When I was 22, I lost someone very important to me. His death was sudden, and it consumed me. My parents wanted me to talk to someone, but I was so hesitant. I fought the idea but because I could see the worry in my dad's eyes, I talked. Then, I talked some more. This wonderful counselor brought me back to life.

Fast forward three years, and that worried, amazing, hardworking dad of mine was gone suddenly, too. I knew exactly where I would find peace and understand this new grief cycle.

Having kids. Changing jobs. Health scares. Anxiety sprinkled with sneaky depression. My previous counselor was gone so I had to find another one. Trial and error until I found my fit. And that fit saves me every two weeks. In the past, I would go when I needed my "fix" - an objective view of how I was dealing with life. But, now with the loss of my brother and all the crazy ass grief that follows, I know I cannot figure it out in one day and I sure as hell can't figure it out alone.

This is why I see a counselor.

There's a huge part of me who is hesitant to share this. But, we get annual check-ups for our physical health, why not the mental? Mental illness and/or mental health is so taboo - it's risky to talk about. It's scary to say you get help. Some people believe you should keep that part of your life to yourself. But, why?

SO many people suffer daily with anxiety and sadness. If you're like me, you can function with anxiety, but you fight like hell to keep it at bay on a daily basis. Mine is all mental. I don't have panic attacks, but I can take a small daily crisis and turn it into the greatest catastrophe. And my special super power is I can do it in about 2.5 seconds. This is why I see a counselor.

I have written before about mental health. I have had great friends find great help just because everyday life is no joke. I also have AMAZING friends who get me - they get that when plans change, I freak a bit. They get that some moments with my busy toddler cause me angst. They get that a story on social media triggers my grief. They get it.

And you know who else gets me? My counselor. She gives me hope. She gives me resources. She opens my eyes every time I go. When I leave, I honestly feel 10 pounds lighter.

And right now, in this crazy grief cycle of anger and sadness (currently stuck between the two - it's a joy), she lets me feel and lets me let it ALL out. Sometimes the things I say even surprise me. She's saving me with every visit.

So there you have it - I said it. I see a counselor. People may be weirded out by that statement. People may think I'm weird. That's okay. But, there may be one person who reads this and says, "ok, I am going to get ME checked out." Heck, even Prince Harry is speaking up about mental health.

Maybe this post is about people understanding me. Understand that while I am mess with my worry, I am trying. Isn't that what we should all do?

Life has been so damn hard, but it has been so damn awesome, too. I may never be cured from anxiety, and grief may continue to go in it's crazy cycle, but I am trying every single day.

That's why I see a counselor.

You can see my other mental health posts by clicking MOM WELLNESS at the top of my page.