Here I am, a wife and mother of 2 girls that has survived a suicide attempt, and is finally learning that perfect isn’t real, and my mental health should be talked about.
I’ve been battling anxiety and depression for years, and for someone who doesn’t fight that daily battle, they just don’t comprehend. I myself didn’t truly grasp how difficult of a monster I was actually facing until the 6th therapist. I spent years going to therapy, only to feel shitty about myself and my struggles.
Finally, I found a therapist that really justified my reactions and thoughts, but helped me see that there were other ways to cope besides driving off the side of the road. I’ve learned through hundreds of hours of therapy that I need to let go of being perfect. I never was perfect, and never will be.
This expectation that was put on me by my church, family, and social media ripped me apart and I won’t let it do that anymore. I’m trying to be real with myself and allow myself to be a loving mom instead of having a perfect house. I’m focusing on my body and my health instead of endlessly giving to the people around me, depleting my energy that I don’t actually have.
I’m learning to set these boundaries that I shouldn’t cross unless my bucket is full. I’ve realized through everything I’ve been through that we aren’t meant to go through this life alone and mental health shouldn’t be a struggle we are judged for.