Post-Election Emotions

It is the end of election week, and I never expected to feel this worn out from a week that was generally light compared to other weeks of my fall semester. Like many others, my heart is heavy, I am in disbelief, and there are some instances I just want to cry - and it's not simply because the candidate I voted for will not be sworn in at the beginning of next year.

I was not thrilled about the ballot I selected from this year.  I had plenty of reservations about Donald Trump and while it was great seeing a female presidential candidate this year, I had my personal reservations about Hilary Clinton as well. However, this post isn't to express why I voted the way I did, evaluate their positions, or try to persuade people with different views to change their mind, because I am one of the least qualified people to attempt that.

This post is to serve as the basin for every emotion I have felt in the past three days.

First, I am sad that family and friends have let two people divide them. I have had my instances of momentary outbursts towards friends and gut reactions to things people are saying, but I care about those individuals too much and value their different perspectives to let my relationship with them come to an end. I also do not wish to be known as a person who responds by the jerk of her knee. I am sad that some individuals out there have such overwhelming fears due to the actions of others or what has been sensationalized in the media. I have my personal concerns and fears about how others will treat me as a woman, but I understand those only pale in comparison to the trials of others. I am sad that this election frequently came down to the "lesser of two evils" for both sides, because there are good people in this country who would make excellent presidential candidates.

Second, I am mad that individuals from both sides are committing, condoning, or rationalizing hateful and violent behavior. The peaceful protests that are taking place reiterate how people can join together; the rioting and vandal behaviors are not justified and only serve to deafen ears. I am mad that people are being stripped of their individuality and being lumped together because of what they marked on a ballot when they have not necessarily expressed similar views of the candidate. "Love trumps hate" has served as one of the cries of protesters, but how can we claim that love wins when we are unable to show love to those we disagree with? I am mad that some individuals in this country have used Donald Trump's election as an excuse for hateful behavior that robs individuals of their sense of safety and comfort in self-expression. I am mad that fact-checking has become such an essential part of being involved in politics because we cannot trust news sources to present the facts.

Finally, I am happy that people care so much. It would be very concerning if people did not take interest in the issues at the center of this election season. I may not agree with all opinions presented but from personal experience, apathy is much worse than anger. I am happy that my conversations with others who voted differently from me have been fired up yet remained respectful. While views I don't agree with make me uncomfortable, I refuse to only surround myself with people who espouse my beliefs. I think there is a lot to be learned from new perspectives and opposing view points. It can make us stop and question our opinions, seek to further understand what we stand for, and facilitate our participation in discussions.

There has been consistent conversations about the level of bipartisanship in the government recently, and I think that mindset has spilled over beyond D.C. I've seen countless Facebook and Twitter posts from both sides explaining why they're right or the other side is wrong. But like trying to convince my brothers they're butt-faces, it's difficult to persuade others to abandon views they've developed and are so strongly attached to. My goal for the rest of 2016 is not to protest or sign petitions or post articles from Odyssey (a separate post is reserved for that website), but instead show love to as many people as I can. There is enough anger and hate in the world coming from all directions for a multitude of reasons. I may not always walk this talk, but I will try.

We all need a little more love in our lives, so I will share what I can from my mere 5'3" being.

Depression and Anxiety

This is a post I have wanted to write for some time now. The problem is that I'm not sure why exactly I want to write or what I want to say. But I'm tired.

I'm tired of stigma that surrounds mental illness.

I'm tired of being embarrassed to tell people that I take an anti-depressant.

I'm tired of feeling shame for having anxiety and depression.

It has been over three years since I had my first appointment with a psychiatrist. Over three years since I was first prescribed ten milligrams of Celexa daily. Over three years since I felt like I lost a battle with myself.

The catalyst was a new level of depression that I had no experienced before: apathy. I thought feeling hopeless was terrible, but there's something inexplicably worse about feeling nothing and not caring anymore. Instead of wanting to lay in bed because it feels like the day will suck, I wanted to lay there because there didn't seem to be a point. I became a shell; I wasn't myself anymore. I could see how concerned my friends were for me, so I decided it was time to do something. Thankfully, that was the one thing I still cared about - my friends. The day I was officially diagnosed was the first time I felt something in months. Thus, began an internal struggle.

I often get asked why I don't like being on medication. It's because of this unfair amount of pride that I hold on to. Being put on medicine made me feel like I let myself down. I had gone so many years without it, so why now? I wish I could say I've moved past this internal battle, but that would be a big, fat lie.

But I still try to take my medicine. It is my responsibility to the world to make sure I am doing what is within my power to manage my health. I've tried to use it as an excuse for broken friendships and angry outbursts, but at the end of the day, it's my fault for not doing what I need to. I can't let my mental health interfere with my life when I have prime opportunity to manage it.

As much as I hate that tiny, orange pill, I appreciate what it does for me. It allows me to feel sad without getting trapped in a pit of despair. It allows me to live in my moments of happiness without anticipation of sudden anxiety. It allows me to experience all emotions at a manageable level. At the end of the day, it's better to swallow a pill every day than to get stuck feeling like everything sucks or to suddenly feel like everything is going wrong and there's no way to fix it. Having depression and anxiety can leave me feeling stuck, even though I have multiple ways to move forward.

The question still remains - why do I want to share all of this? I think it's because I want people to understand that mental health can be hard to put into words. That sometimes there's nothing to say, but it's important to remind people that you still care. That even though I am a person with depression and anxiety, I am still a person, and it doesn't define who I am. That there's no reason to be ashamed of struggling with mental health. That someone like me doesn't need pity but reminders that there are people who have my back.

Bottom line is, thank you to everyone who has stood behind me and helped pull me out of my cloud.

I couldn't be here without you.