Dance like no one's watching

I went to a brewery with a few of my friends a few months ago. Among the group was a new girl I had not met yet. We shall call her Becky. Now, Becky seemed awesome and friendly. I already like you when I meet you, until you give me a reason not to. And then, once that happens, good luck coming to the sunny side.

Anyways, after the brewery, we all went to a restaurant. When the host saw how big our party was (6 people), not that big, he recommended we sit outside. We would have our own little patio...sounds awesome right?! SUPER AWESOME.

We get up there, and it's a little quiet, so I ask him if it's possible for them to play music out there. He said yes and that he was going to get right on it and he does! What an amazing host; their service was just perfect.

Okay, we had been drinking previously, and I was feeling the music. I didn't care about the food anymore, I needed to shake my tail feather like there was no tomorrow. No one else wanted to dance, so I danced by myself while everyone else ate their food. I am sure I looked absolutely silly. Becky apparently did not approve of this and one of my other friends, mentioned it to me later that night after we had all parted ways.

I was thinking about this today. I heard the song, I hope you dance by Lee Ann Womack. I am telling you, that song always pulls at my heartstrings. I don't know what it is about that song, but it makes my eyes rain. So, I am sure solo drunk dancing at a restaurant is not exactly what she had in mind, but I sure as hell am about to take it there!

The thing is...who is anyone to judge what you do? Whether it's dancing at a restaurant, when you're the ONLY people sitting there or even if there are other people sitting there or if you order your dessert before dinner, or whatever you want to do!!

I came to a point in life where each moment in life seemed as miserable as the next. Each step forward seemed like a step in place with chains pulling me backward. I had to fight to stay in place and it wouldn't seem worth it, most of the time. I felt like there was no light at the end of the tunnel and I couldn't even reach the sides of the tunnel. Everything was dark and each time I took a stupid pill, it was just a flame from a lighter, lighting a few shuffles in an unknown direction, every day. And, every day, I would take another pill, flick another BIC, shuffling, fighting, trying to make it to night time, so I could start anew the next, hopefully accomplishing something like smiling.

I came to a point where I didn't know if I was going to make it to the next day, the next week, or the next month. But, by some miracle or perseverance (I think that's what they would call it, or maybe strength, courage, whatever), I am here, alive and semi-well. I refuse to wonder about what if and I refuse to let what other people think stop me from doing what I want to do. I refuse to settle for anything less than what makes me happy.

I know what it feels like to want to sleep away every moment of every day, so when I get the opportunity to dance, I'm gonna freaking dance, dammit! And I'm gonna dance like no one's watching! So, BOO YAH.

Hello...it's me.

I was wondering if maybe after this year you'd like to meet.

I have not written on here in a while; things have changed A LOT. I would like to share my ACTUAL journey and progress with you all.

So, I am going to continue this blog; I really needed to take a break and actually start this journey before I acted like my life had changed forever, in a few hours, because of a book.

Not to say that the book didn't make a difference. The book really affected my life, I promise it did. For any woman that feels like she is too nice for her own good, feels taken advantage of by friends, family, coworkers, anyone...I highly recommend it. It helped me allow my life experiences to change me and that was something I sincerely needed. I had become an expert at avoidance and ignorance. I figured if I ignored a problem long enough, maybe it would magically disappear. I mean....that IS how it works, right??

Someone once pointed out that even when giving bad news, I smile. I could be talking about something that was utterly heart-breaking, but those words would be forced out with a smile. Smiling through my tears was a way for me to make the bad not so bad. It helped make the worst situations a little bit better, or so I thought.

Anyways, on January 28th in 2014, I went to the doctor. I had been "sick". I put that in quotations because it wasn't completely physical, even if it was biological. I would be driving and forget where I was going. I would forget how to get home in a city I had lived in for nine years. I would forget common words, like cabinet, or bathtub. I would cry every time I was alone and pretending to be happy was becoming exhausting.  After three years of lifestyle changes, I had reached a goal weight of 115 and I claimed to make time for the gym even when I had none (taking 21 hours at school, working, sorority stuff, trying to be a present girlfriend). When I started coming up with excuses about not having time...it should have been a red flag. I was content, though. I was content in my excuses.

I went to my doctor and after two hours of purposeful communication, she came to the conclusion that I was having a major depressive episode. Lucky for me, I was diagnosed right after a breakup.

See, the breakup was actually fine with me. I cried from my walk from his apartment to my car, while I carried some picture frames, a case of beer, and maybe a few other belongings. I threw that stuff into my trunk and got in the driver's seat. I shut the door, and in that instant, I shut my sense of being. I scoffed at my tears, wiped them off and drove home. I was FINE. I actually, really was.

I didn't cry again for months. I didn't cry because I couldn't. I reached a point where I had no hope, no care, and absolutely no desire to do anything but forget that I was living. Unlucky for me, I was diagnosed right after the breakup. My limbic system had already had enough; my memory was shot, my energy was shot, my love for life had been shot. I was already depressed and I showed the classic signs and symptoms. I needed one last push, over the cliff, to make me numb and it happened in the form of a breakup.

Then I started getting advice and questions:

"You're not depressed, you're just sad because of a break-up; just get a new boyfriend!"
"The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else."
"You don't need those pills; just go to the gym!"
"Let's hang out; I'm sure I can make you feel better."
"Why aren't you acting like the girl I used to know?"
"Why aren't you smiling? Why aren't you talking?"
"I don't understand how I'm already over my breakup and you're not over yours."
"Stop being such an attention seeker."
"Those pills are just a placebo effect."
and, my personal favorite...
"If you really want to kill yourself, just do it, it's not like anyone would miss you."

As if I wasn't ashamed enough, this constant dismissal/judgement/repudiation engrained the stigma in my mind.

So, here you go. Here is my story. Here is my journey. The journey that led me to greater self-awareness, a greater sense of inner peace, and most importantly, a greater sense of self-love.

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