This post is about mental illness. While I don’t get too dark, there are references to suicidal ideation and other dark topics. Please read with care.
In 2013, I wrote a blog about my depression. It was my little announcement to the world that I had suffered from depression since I was 12, and my attempt to process my experience and share it with others.
The post got a lot of great feedback. Since I shared my story, I’ve become even more open about sharing my mental health journey and experience. Many people have thanked me for sharing my story—they found comfort knowing they weren’t the only ones. Many people shared their own stories with me, under the promise that I wouldn’t share with anyone.
Not everyone can be as open as I am. But mental illness is not rare, and it’s something we need to talk about…especially those of us who are able to. I will not suffer setbacks at work, I won’t lose friends, and I haven’t really had any negative consequences from sharing my story. And I know I’m fortunate for that.
So now, 10 years later, let’s talk more.
My Life with Depression: 10 Years Later
I’m now 33. I’ve come a long way in my life since the age of 23 when I wrote that original post. But the depression is still here.
As most people do in their 20s, I grew up, matured, learned more about what I want (and don’t want) from life, built close friendships, grew into my career, and explored.
For the last almost five years, I’ve worked for myself. I left my full-time job in May 2018 to become a freelance marketing writer. That’s still what I’m doing, and it’s going really well. I have amazing clients, and I pretty much get paid to learn (and then write about it). It allows me the flexibility my brain needs and yet plays into the strengths of my unique talents.
I had trouble making friends in high school and college. That’s likely attributable to many things—my depression, my social anxiety, my walled-off nature, having moved around a lot. But now that I’m an adult, I have several very close friends that give me life. I enjoy having just a few close friends—that feels like all I can handle—and I’ve found some great ones. I also have fun groups of (mostly) women I play volleyball, ride bikes, kayak, and do other such adventures with. We mostly see each other during the few months that Iowa allows us to be outdoors without freezing, but each season it’s as if we were just together.
Dogs are another big part of my life and mental health. I had Miss Violet, my monkey, for 7 years—not bad considering I got her when she was 9 years old. She got me through some tough times and was the best adventure buddy a gal could ask for.
After Violet died, I fostered through our local humane society. I got to help a few great puppers find their furever homes. And, as per my evil plan, I also found my next adoptee: Chrissy. She came to me as a foster during 4th of July weekend 2020, and she never left. She was an 8-year-old pretty pittie (now about 10 years old) who had likely been dumped after reaching…do dogs reach menopause? Anywho, the (alleged) backyard breeder she was “working” for had no more use for her, then she was adopted and returned a few times, spending almost 8 months at the humane society before coming home with me “for the weekend.”
My Diagnosis
I got diagnosed with depression on February 20, 2003, at the age of 13. It took me years to realize that being put on antidepressants meant I had depression, but hey, I was a teenager. So at the time of my last post, I knew I had depression, but since then, I’ve learned more about my actual diagnosis.
Please enjoy this song from a delightful (though at times dark) show called Crazy Ex-Girlfriend.
I learned that my formal diagnosis is: Severe Recurrent Major Depressive Disorder – Well Controlled
Scary, right? (Also, I may have some of those words in the wrong order…it’s a lot to remember.)
- Severe – oof, but yup, I can’t deny that
- Recurrent – can confirm, and you can learn more about depressive episodes below
- Major – seems ominous, but the DSM* says what the DSM says
- Depressive Disorder – I knew this one
- Well Controlled – see the next section for more on this
*Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders
I don’t throw my full diagnosis around on a daily basis. I should probably get a t-shirt with that on it, though, right? But it’s affirming to put a name to what’s going on with my brain chemicals. I learned long ago that the depression is not my fault (though it’s hard to remember that on dark days) and learning about it is an important coping strategy for me.
Well Controlled—With a Lot of Work
Most of the time, my file says “well controlled” after my diagnosis. It’s a straightforward label, but the control is complex and ever changing.
With 20 years of experience under my belt, I know the things that work well for me to keep my depression at bay—knowing full well it’s not something I can completely control.
Here are a few of the things I do to keep my brain healthy:
- Meds – I’ve been on antidepressants since I was 13, and I’ll likely be on them forever (or until science has some other solution). I made my attempt after college to get off meds—simply because I needed to try, just for myself—and it didn’t go well. And that’s OK. As one of my favorite podcasts, My Favorite Murder, says, “If you can’t make your own serotonin, store bought is fine.”
- Therapy – In the first 10 years after my diagnosis, I didn’t think I needed therapy because my depression is chemical and my life is great. Turns out, everyone can benefit from therapy! I started therapy about 10 years ago, and I’ve gone monthly ever since. It helps me make time to reflect about how I feel, process anything going on in my life, and learn about ongoing ways to manage my mental illness.
- Wellness Mumbo Jumbo – Physical health is tied to mental health, and there’s nothing I can do to separate the two. Which means I try to take care of my body by exercising, eating well, working on mindfulness, and many other things that fall under the “wellness” umbrella. Some things work for me, some don’t, but I’m open to trying and seeing what happens.
- Winter Care – Winters in Iowa suck. They’re cold, snowy, and cloudy. My brain does not do well from December through March, so I have to be extra diligent about my routines. In the winter, I take extra vitamin D, sit in front of a mood light daily, take Chrissy on walks if it’s not TOO cold or windy, and make sure I’m keeping an eye out for signs of depression.
- Mood Tracking – I like data and knowing whether what I’m doing (or not doing) is helping my mental health. I use an app to track my mood, meds, habits, daily activities, and more. I can review the data, see what trends emerge, and adjust accordingly. For me, tracking isn’t just about having the data, though, it’s also about taking time each day to consider my mood and reflecting on if something I did (or didn’t do) may have impacted how I felt.
I’m constantly on the lookout for symptoms of a depressive episode. While things are not fully within my control—no matter how much I want them to be—I can take steps to keep myself healthy and give me the best shot of staying out of a full-blown depressive episode.
Howmever, I can be doing everything right and still fall into an episode. It’s not my fault. My brain is wired a bit differently. Mental illness is never your fault.
Depressive Episodes
While my depression hovers around me on a daily basis, I’m mostly quite functional. Beyond maintaining habits that keep me healthy (including meds and therapy), I’m not depressed on an average day.
Ten years ago, when I wrote the original post, my depression was much less well controlled. I was fighting dark thoughts daily, had as many bad days as good, and felt the heaviness of my mental illness.
Now, however, I’m blessed to say that most days, I’m happy and healthy. I do my work, hang with my dog, get together with friends and family, and am generally living my best life.
But I do still get severe depressive episodes. I’ve had two in the last couple of years. I don’t remember much from them—depression greatly affects one’s memory—but I know they were terrible. Only recently have I been healthy enough to differentiate between 1) always being depressed vs. 2) being my healthy self or being in a depressive episode. Now that my depression is well controlled (woot woot), I’m not depressed constantly. My depression hits in depressive episodes.
I’ve come to appreciate the term “depressive episode.” It almost takes the illness outside of myself. I’m not depressed…I’m in a depressive episode. It seems like a small swap, but for me, it’s huge. The terminology helps me communicate with providers, mark the starting and stopping points in my head (again, my memory is pretty much empty during these times), and communicate with friends and family (and even clients) about the state of my mental health.
I’m much more comfortable saying, “I’m in the middle of a depressive episode,” instead of, “I’m depressed.” And referencing past episodes in just those terms.
Since I have the terminology to talk about them, let’s talk about my recent depressive episodes (what I can remember of them).
In spring of 2021, I had an incredibly severe episode. It lasted about a month, and I was essentially couch-ridden for that time. I was too fatigued to eat, shower, work, or do anything but lie on the couch staring off into space. This episode I attribute to the woes of COVID lockdown. I think I enjoyed being a hermit a bit too much, and it wasn’t healthy for me. Winter 2020-2021 was tough for all of us, and for me, it resulted in a lovely depressive episode.
Even though we were all still worried about COVID, I called my parents and asked if I could come stay with them. I needed help, and I really didn’t want to go to the hospital. I just knew I couldn’t be at home alone. This episode is the worst I can ever remember the suicidal ideation being. Thankfully, I made a promise to myself long ago that I wouldn’t attempt to take my own life, and when I saw my thoughts headed in that direction, I somehow had the strength to ask for help. And, unlike many, I have a family who welcomed me with open arms to help me through this dark time.
A week at my parents’ helped. I had human contact, someone to take me on walks (yes, I know I sound like a dog), and quality meals. I wasn’t out of the depressive episode when I left, but I was through the worst of it. Eventually, the fog lifted and I was able to ease back into work and life.
And then about 18 months later, in the summer of 2022, I dipped again. What led up to the episode is a long story, but after several months of low-grade depression (and not realizing that’s what it was), I fell hard into a full-blown depressive episode. Even after 20 years, it can still take me months to realize I’m experiencing depression symptoms.
During this episode, I had to take six weeks off work, which I’d never done before. I worked with a psychiatrist on changing meds, adding supplemental meds to try to pull me out of the episode, and then moving back to my baseline after the fog lifted.
This was probably one of my longest depressive episodes, and it took me even more time to build back up to my full work and life routine. I was brain foggy and fatigued for months.
Thankfully, I’m out of that depressive episode, and back to living my best life.
For both of these episodes, I had to take time off work. Which, since I work for myself, is thankfully possible. My clients are absolute angels, and because I’m open with them about my struggles, they’re so understanding. I was able to take 4-6 weeks away from working (my brain wouldn’t have produced much of quality anyway), and my clients were still there when I got back. I’m blessed and thankful.
Ye Olde Anxiety
I was diagnosed with anxiety in my 20s, during college. Depression and anxiety are often comorbid (present in the same patient) and are strangely counterintuitive.
I listed some of my anxieties in my 10-year post, and while many of those still impact me, my anxiety is much better controlled, likely because of what I talk about in the next section: ADHD.
Most of my anxiety triggers were (and are) sensory related. My panic attacks were often caused by noises, crowds, and other experiences of overstimulation. I had quite a few panic attacks in my 20s, which are exhausting and terrible. I asked every provider I saw about ideas for lessening my reactions to sensory triggers, however no one had substantial help. I learned to wear headphones almost everywhere, carry earbuds with me, and avoid situations where there might be specific trigger noises.
Yet again, the people around me were amazing. Because I talked about my triggers, my coworkers were thoughtful about avoiding them or warning me ahead of time. I worked in an open office environment, and coworkers would give me a warning if they were eating something crunchy (a big trigger for me), and if a song with whistling came on the office radio, someone would rush to skip to the next song.
In the last year or so, I’ve learned a lot more about my sensory issues and am much more resilient thanks to proper diagnosis and medication.
In fact, I may not have generalized anxiety disorder at all. Most of my anxiety is related to my most recent diagnosis: ADHD.
A New Development: ADHD
In the last year or two (turns out, I’m completely time blind…a common symptom of ADHD), I was diagnosed with ADHD – Inattentive Type. I’m not going to go into how ADHD is underdiagnosed in women and girls, nor about the basics of the disorder. You can do that research on your own. I will, however, share how the diagnosis and learning about what it means has impacted me.
A therapist mentioned ADHD to me in about 2019. I brushed it off because I see myself as lazy, not hyperactive. Well, over the next few years, I learned more about ADHD, saw friends and other women in my life get diagnosed, and had trouble keeping up with life when COVID lockdowns through my little remaining structure out the window.
I decided it was worth at least bringing up with my doctor, whom I’ve been seeing since college and have a great rapport with. I went in with a list of symptoms I’ve noticed, and he was basically like, “Wow, ok, this bounce-around conversation and that list are definite ADHD traits, let’s look into it.” He gave me the DSM-5 ADHD evaluation—which I still like to revisit when I question my own diagnosis (imposter syndrome is common after an ADHD diagnosis)—and ding, ding, ding, I was well beyond the criteria for diagnosable ADHD. As of now, I’m diagnosed with inattentive type, but I more likely have combined type…my hyperactivity just happens to be mental more so than physical.
Lol, I just looked back at my original list for the ADHD diagnosis evaluation appointment, and my goodness, yup. All the signs. Big ol’ red flags.
ADHD has a lot of stigma around it. “Isn’t everybody a bit ADHD?” “That’s a little boy diagnosis.” And on and on. Again, I’m not going to go into debunking any of that here. There are much better resources for such lessons.
I just want to say that getting the ADHD diagnosis, learning how it has impacted my life without me knowing it, and getting medicated have been—and I want to emphasize this—life changing.
Seriously, I’ll repeat it. Life changing.
I thought I was just weird (which I am, and you can never take that away from me), too smart in some ways while being completely inept in others, a standard perfectionist, and lazy. Turns out, I’m just neurodivergent! And I’ve learned coping mechanisms to help me survive in a neurotypical world.
But now I can understand why I’m pretty good at a lot of things but not great at any one thing, why I did well in school but can’t keep track of my keys, why I can’t bring myself to do things I find monotonous, why I have a different hobby every three months, why I can hyperfocus on something I find interesting to the point where I forget to do anything else, why my friends joked in college that if I didn’t put “breathe” in my calendar I would forget.
I have learned a lot about myself, which is the first step in finding healthier ways to work WITH my ADHD, not against it.
Noise Anxiety: It was ADHD All Along
I listed a few of my anxiety triggers on my 10-year blog:
- Noises (whistling, people eating, people drinking, beeping, certain people’s voices, ticking, etc.)
- Social interactions
- Physical proximity
- Unfamiliar places
- Surface germs
Turns out…a lot of those anxieties are sensory related and very common in people with ADHD. My issue with noises came down to how my brain processes stimuli around me.
Now that I’m on ADHD meds, I can better tolerate noises. I still don’t like them, but they’re much less likely to send me into a full meltdown or panic attack. I didn’t expect this benefit from the meds; in fact, I didn’t notice for a few months.
For years, I talked about my “noise anxiety” with healthcare providers, and no one had answers or ideas. I just thought I’d have to deal with it forever. Now, I can go to restaurants that serve chips, watch sporting events where fans might whistle (still please don’t, though), and use my ear plugs less and less.
Self-employment as an ADHDer
I work for myself. My work is fairly unstructured, I have a ton of flexibility, and I love it.
But—and this is a big but—self-employment comes with warnings for ADHD brains.
Self-employment is great for ADHD brains for a lot of reasons: We can continue to find new and interesting projects, we have more control of our work and environment, we can work based on our body’s and brain’s schedules instead of 9 to 5, and more. I like that I get to work with different clients in unique industries and learn something every day.
However, ADHD can work against you when you’re working for yourself. For me, a big struggle is that for the most part, my work doesn’t have deadlines. My contracts are mostly set up so I complete a certain amount of work, via structured deliverables, each month. Most of the time, it doesn’t matter much if that work happens at the beginning, middle, or end of the month.
For my brain, removing deadlines turned out to be a big issue for me. I was used to having due dates, co-workers following up on work, and daily standups to plan priorities. Now, I have none of that. Which is unfortunate because I LOVE to procrastinate. I’ve learned that with ADHD, we tend not to do things that don’t interest us in the moment. So if I have a blog to write, but I don’t want to write it, I will procrastinate. Then I’ll feel shame. Then I’ll do the blog in a frenzy of anxiety. Then I’ll feel burnt out and go take a nap, leaving my other work sitting there.
Not great. So I’ve worked really hard to build guardrails for myself. A few of them include:
- Scheduling Focusmate sessions for when I want to start working the next day (usually 9 a.m.)
- Taking my ADHD meds and giving work a try, even if I feel like it might be a bad day
- Having a comfortable working space with everything I need (water, notepad, two screens, a printer, highlighters, red pens, etc.)
- Doing 2-5 Focusmate sessions back to back (50 minutes on, 10 minutes off, a built-in pomodoro)
- Being kind to myself and walking away if I just can’t focus
- Moving meetings to afternoons so I can focus in the mornings
- Managing my work tasks to a meticulous degree in Asana
- Working based on “due dates” even if they’re made up by me
- Breaking every single project and tasks down into small tasks (every blog I write has 9 tasks associated with it)
- Writing the next day’s tasks on paper each night
- Doing quick-win tasks in my first session; people say “eat the frog first,” but that just doesn’t work for me
- Feeling zero guilt for walking away at 1pm if I got all my planned tasks done
A lot of these guardrails are to avoid my common ADHD traps:
- Spending time deciding what to do instead of doing
- Setting goals that are too lofty and impossible to complete in a day
- Starting! Starting is the hardest part for me
- Perfectionist anxiety
I can do more work in 5 hours than most people can in 8…when I can focus. So by setting these guardrails and trying to do what I know works for me, I can feel good about working from 9 to 1 or 2 most days and having the rest of the day for whatever I feel like (naps, reading, working part time at Barnes & Noble, mountain biking, hikes with friends, dog walks, or just staring off into space).
Again, the meds are a huge factor in me being able to stay out on my own. So are the systems I’ve built to keep myself moving forward little by little. The fear of having to go back to a “real job” is also a great motivator. In the end, I think self-employment is the best option for me and my ADHD, and I’ll keep working on ways to keep myself accountable.
I’ve talked to several people with ADHD who say things like, “I could never work for myself…I’d never do anything!” But I’ve also talked to plenty of ADHD entrepreneurs (many on Focusmate, in fact), and we wouldn’t have it any other way. To each their own. I’m just happy I’ve found work that fits my needs and lets me use my talents.
Something New Every Day
I have a weird mix of needing everything to be the same while also craving the new. I love when my days follow a routine and go as planned, and yet I’m easily bored. Now that I know this about myself, I can set myself up for success.
I happened to get into a career where I get to learn something new every day. Writing about sawmill cameras, software development, mortgage analytics, and whatever else comes my way keeps my brain engaged and curious. I try to balance having mostly ongoing content marketing clients with taking on some small shiny projects here and there to bring something new into the fold.
Outside of my business work, I crave new knowledge as well. Since working at B&N, I’ve been reading even more than before…which was already a lot. I have read books that I never would have discovered without my part-time gig, and I like that I get to work in a chill retail environment with fellow readers.
Reading is probably hobby number 1, but I’ve always been a hobby jumper. I didn’t realize why I started and stopped so many hobbies until I got diagnosed with ADHD. Now it makes sense and I can embrace it. I can do mountain biking, hiking, kayaking, softball, sand volleyball, and other stuff in the summer. And then switch to indoor volleyball, pickleball, lifting, reading (of course), and other indoor activities in the winter. The change is nice. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’ll never be great at any one thing, but I’ll be decent at many!
Learning is probably my top hobby. I just really like learning new things. I like learning the basics and then moving onto the next thing. I like to get to the curve part of the learning curve and then call it good.
Some things I’ve learned in the last few years:
- Mountain biking
- Olympic weightlifting
- Spanish (I still practice this)
- Sign language
- Kickboxing
- Drums
- Rock climbing
- Backpacking (I peed in the woods for the first time, go me)
I have to reiterate that I know only the very basics of each of these. Do not ask me questions about them; I’m onto my next thing. But I do have equipment for each activity (except the drums…I sold those).
Things I may or may not learn in the near future:
- Piano / reading music (I’ve forgotten everything from my childhood piano lessons, sorry Mom)
- Crochet / knitting
- Singing (even though I think I’m a great singer…in my car and shower)
- Pickleball
And who knows what else might catch my interest! It’s always an adventure.
Always Learning
In addition to learning new hobbies and skills, I also continue to learn about ADHD, how it impacts me, and coping mechanisms I can use. I learn by reading books about ADHD, talking to providers, but mostly, I learn from other people with ADHD.
I’m lucky to have a few friends—and many acquaintances, including those from Focusmate—with ADHD who are willing to talk about it with me. It’s fun to compare and contrast how it impacts our lives. Sometimes, ADHD presents similarly (for example, eating sounds bother a lot of us). Other times, I talk to someone who has the exact opposite preference or reaction to something. Fun!
I enjoy talking about how ADHD impacts my life and figuring out ways to embrace it.
It’s proven that neurodivergent people tend to find and attract other neurodivergent people, so it’s no surprise that many of my friends have ADHD, ASD (autism spectrum disorder), or both. We’re under a little neurodivergent umbrella.
With these friends, we share coping mechanisms, daily struggles, funny stories (e.g., I locked myself out of the house three times one week), books and resources, and whatever else is on our mind. (Literally…because the conversations are all over the place.) Talking about ADHD with others has helped me feel less alone and less “weird” when my brain does weird things.
In the year or two since my ADHD diagnosis, I’ve learned a lot. And I expect that process will continue, frankly, forever.
Staying Healthy
It takes a lot of work to keep my brain healthy and in working order. Thankfully, I’ve been able to build a life that works for me. My ideal life doesn’t look like what society tells us we should want from life. I’m happy being single, working for myself, taking care of old dogs, building relationships with close friends, getting up to nothing with the family, and keeping things as quiet and predictable as possible.
I have to balance protecting my brain with OVER protecting my brain. In the first year of COVID, I went full hermit (and loved it) but then fell into a depressive episode. So now I know to work on balance—put myself out there but focus on things that give me energy and bring me joy, not things I dread. Most people probably don’t want to spend 90% of their life alone (but with a dog, in my case). But I enjoy my own company, and when I recharge my battery by being alone, I can get more from the time I do spend around other people.
I’m privileged that I’m able to spend a lot of time working on and caring for myself. That could be labeled “selfish,” and that’s OK because I don’t think selfish is a dirty word. I think most of us need to be a bit more selfish—to give to ourselves so we can give to others. When I’m sick or burned out, I can’t give anything of myself to others, no matter how much I may want to. When I’m healthy and thriving, I can give of myself to friends and family.
I know “self care” has become a buzzword/trend in the last decade, but I think taking care of yourself is important. I say this, of course, as someone who has chosen not to have a partner or kids (currently) and is privileged in my middle-class entrepreneurial lifestyle. I don’t envy those who are too busy to take time for themselves. Nor do I judge them. My version of healthy is different from the next person’s version of healthy. The hard part is figuring out what works for you.
I’ll always have to be diligent about my mental health. I will be better and healthier if I do spend this time on myself and the things I know work to keep out of depressive episodes or ADHD burnout. I slip up, I have bad days/weeks/months, I falter from my routines—but in the end, often with help, I’m able to get back to what I know works. And it’s a lot of work. But worth it.
Always Ch-ch-ch-changing
What I’ve learned over the last 10 years is that things are always changing. What my brain needs, wants, and doesn’t want continues to change. Something that works for me now may not work in six months. And that’s OK. I have systems in place to evaluate what I’m doing and adapt as I notice changing needs.
I’ll continue to track my habits, meds, activities, and moods to understand what helps me feel my best. I can take comfort knowing that my “optimal” routines, habits, and self-care regimens will change over time so I can be open to changes.
Wrapping It Up
Just like with my 10-year post, I’ll likely share this post every year on my diagnosis anniversary for the next 10 years. Maybe I’ll write another update at the 30-year mark.
As a reminder, everything in this article is about me and only me. The content reflects my views, my coping mechanisms, and what works for me as an individual. Every single person has different needs, wants, and versions of healthy when it comes to mental health. I’m not here to push my stuff onto anyone else. I talk about it because talking about it helps. It helps me. It helps those who don’t feel comfortable being as open as I am but can read this and feel less alone. It helps reduce mental illness stigma, even if just a tiny bit.
I have nothing profound to end this post with, but congratulations if you made it through the whole thing. Here’s another picture of Chrissy as a reward.
