Family and Forgiveness

Hi :)!

Okay so inspiration struck so this post is happening sooner than I expected lol.

Where I’m living we are currently in our third wave of COVID-19 and therefore our third lockdown. So life hasn’t changed a lot in the sense that I am still living with my parents and sister.

Everyone’s experience during lockdown has been different but for me it has not been that bad. My sister and I were close before lockdown and if anything it has only made us closer. However I do think that lockdown has provided the situation for me to connect with my parents more deeply. Of course even though living under their rules after having been moved out for school for 3 years is hard and we have had our fair share of fights, we have definitely grown closer over all.

My parents are good people at heart and sometimes because of my anger and rash decisions, I forget that they just want what is best for me. There is no doubt in my mind my parents love my sister and I more than anything. However, when they are unreasonably overprotective or don’t understand our mental health struggles, it feels like they don’t give a damn about us and just want to control us.

Living in such close proximity to them and sometimes going weeks with only seeing them and no one else in person has really given us the time to have conversations we might not have had otherwise. I’ve learned a lot about my parents’ past and have had a lot of time to reflect on how they became the people they are and why they are the way they are.

I think it’s these things that young adults and teenagers need to think about and realize when we get mad at our parents. Yes we all have valid reasons to be angry and upset, but in my opinion we have to consider how our parents grew up. They were raised in a different generation and if you look at the world then and now, we have radically changed.

Now I’m not trying to say every parents wrongdoings are forgivable (for example situations involving racism/discrimination which I consider basic human respect). But in my case(mental health and being controlling), my parents showed progress (over several years) and have always showed me unconditional love. To me that is enough for me to forgive them for their past mistakes on how they handled raising me and my mental health.

Which leads me to something I think is really important. Forgiveness. No matter how much we want to, we can’t change the past. We can only go forward. I’ve learned that forgiveness shouldn’t be done for the other person/people. It should be done for yourself.

Once you forgive someone, you start to let go of the hurt and anger you’re holding onto. And that is when you can finally truly start to move on with your life. A lot of people equate forgiveness with being on great terms with that person again. That doesn’t have to be the case. You can simply forgive someone and still keep them out of your life.

I have forgiven a few people in life, whom I have also realized I didn’t want in my life anymore. I didn’t want to give them the chance to be able to hurt me again. So although I forgave them for their past mistakes so that I could accept it, heal and move on, they are not in my life.

It’s kind of like saying “okay. This person hurt/upset me and I know it. But I’m going to take all this energy I have put into being mad at them and put into learning from that, making sure it doesn’t happen again and being happier.”

I realize that it sounds like a lot of mumbo jumbo but I truly believe in it. People often say that love is the most powerful emotion, however rage, if left to built, can be just as devastatingly powerful. And often time the person who upset you doesn’t even realize you’re holding on to all this resentment and you’re the one spending all your energy on them while they’re living their life.

Forgive, learn and grow so that you can live your best life.

With lots of love,

Your mental health Mathie 🙂

Hi Again

Oops it has been a long time. I had a rough semester last summer and then I decided to make some unwise decisions of course. This time around it being to make myself so busy that I couldn’t possibly have time to feel anything except tiredness.

I went to full time school and worked 2 part time jobs. To give this some perspective, aside from 20 ish hours of lectures a week I also worked 40-50 hours a week and then somehow found time to do homework and study for exams.

I guess you can kind of see why I completely fell off the blogging wagon and didn’t write anything. I have missed it though. I think it’s a great outlet. So for my end of the school year goal, I told myself I would write at least one blog post a week again.

Hopefully I will post again by the end of this week to get me started again with a full update on how life has been. Stay safe everyone 🙂

With lots of love,

Your mental health Mathie 🙂

Knowing Yourself

Hey :).

So a life update I have is that I got a part time job. I actually think it’s really helping me.

So basically before I got the job, most of my day consisted of procrastinating homework by either watching Netflix or napping. Now I find myself having to time manage otherwise I’d fall really far behind. I’ve been wanting a part time job for a while now but along with the pandemic I just never had enough motivation to go out and find one. I was also terrified that if I had another low point where I’d not move for 2 weeks then I’d upset a lot of people (aka my boss) if I had a job.

I’m a place now where I’m comfortable enough to let my boss know if I do need a mental health day. Besides that I feel like I’m currently in a good place right now. A place where I can start getting my drive and motivation to start doing the things I used to.

Obviously there’s a few things to keep in mind. So when I first started down my mental health journey of getting better, I thought that after a couple weeks of meds and starting therapy that everything would be fine. I took a full course load and didn’t change anything else in my life.

This was a huge mistake. I learned the hard way that you need to gradually build back your mental health. It’s okay to take time, it’s hard work. For me, I didn’t originally want to take a lighter course load because I felt incompetent next to my peers. However I now take a reduced load of 3/4 courses a semester whereas the regular load is 5. Although it doesn’t sound like much, for me it’s a huge difference and gives me the time I need during the school year to relax and provides the opportunity for me not to become overwhelmingly stressed.

Anyways, so when I first went to school after I started meds, I took 5 courses and during the term ended up dropping to just 1. The semester after I only took 2 courses. And now I take 3/4 depending on what’s offered. Yes I do need to take an extra year but honestly for me it’s worth it. This is my one life. So I have to take an extra year. To me that’s a much better option than not being able to function for days one end, having a permanent feeling of tightness in my chest and breaking down crying almost every night.

Just because something takes you longer than other people and may not be the normal way of doing things, does not mean it’s wrong. People function and learn in different ways and if having depression has taught me anything, it’s that you need to figure out what is best for you.

I’m well aware that a lot of people affected by depression think very self deprecating things and don’t want to reach out for help and often can’t think of ways to help themselves. It’s a vicious cycle but with support from others, it’s much easier to break. For me, the support of my parents was a huge deal. They assured me multiple times they were fine with me taking a lightness course load and are the ones who pushed me to consider it in the first place. They made me think about my health (that being my mental health) before anything else even though education is very important for them.

This was pretty impactful to me and definitely changed my way of thinking. I always think about how I can make my life a little less stressful. I think of ways I can healthily cope and now reach out when I feel like I can’t on my own. It’s taken a long time and although sometimes I still shut down, I can see I’ve come a long way.

Anyways, I just wanted to say that I hope you all put yourselves first. I know you may feel selfish or just don’t want to but start with little things. Think about how something will make you feel. When planning your day try to include time for yourself or time to de stress. We can never get the days that go by, back. Start thinking of yourself and how you can change your routine to add a little stress relief/relaxation to your day/week/life.

With lots of love,

Your Mental Health Mathie

Random 3am Thoughts

Hi :)!

So it’s been almost three weeks since my last post. In that time I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and opening up to those close to me.

First off I’d like to share that I finally got my SSRI dosage lowered! Although I’m pretty far from going off them completely, this little milestone meant a lot to me. It reminded me of how much I’ve grown and overcome.

Secondly, I’ve started telling a few of my close friends about my blog. I swear I sweated (is that a word??) about 10 buckets just typing up the text for them to come check it out but in the end they were more supportive than I could’ve hoped for.

I know that for me especially, one really debilitating thing I do is over analyze and worry about everything. Even when everything points to the exact opposite of what I worry about. Because of that I need a lot of reassurance. Sometimes I wonder why my friends and loved ones aren’t tired of me yet but mostly I’m grateful that they understand or at least try to understand what I going through and feeling.

I’m currently sitting in the dark at about 3am writing up this post. I’m not really sure what I want to talk about but I would love to hear people’s opinions and experiences about whatever I think of saying.

What are your coping mechanisms? I like hearing about what others do because sometimes it gives me ideas of new things to try for myself. For example, my friend told me about crocheting and now it’s something I do everyday as a way to relax and get my mind off things and I absolutely love it.

Is anyone else on meds or thinking about it? To be honest, from talking to a few people I know who are going to therapy and dealing with their own mental health issues, I’m the only one I know taking meds. Sometimes I hate that I am because it feels like I’m somehow weaker than everyone I know who can just deal with it through therapy. I feel weak and worthless because I need therapy and meds to help me cope.

Logically I know that my type of depression stems from my brain not producing enough serotonin on its own and therefore I do needs meds. But unfortunately, as much as I know and love logic, sometimes my brain just refuses to acknowledge it.

I realize that this has been a really random culmination of thoughts. I couldn’t sleep and realized I hadn’t written in a while so I thought I would.

I’d just like to end by saying thank you. To whoever actually reads this. To the couple of you who emailed me asking for advice. I was never one who shared my deepest feelings. Everything I shared with others was surface level for the most part, even with my closest friends and family. So by doing this and seeing it actually help some people makes the anxiety and fear of writing all my deepest darkest thoughts down bearable.

Yuck I sound like a hallmark movie lol. But it is true so thank you. Anyways. I think that’s enough random babbles from me tonight.

With lots of love,

Your Mental Health Mathie

BLM and Your Mental Health

Hi hi :).

So currently in the world, there’s a pretty big movement trying to happen. That would be the Black Lives Matter Movement. I know some of you may be tired of hearing about it but I’m not here trying to convince you it’s good or bad. I’m just here to tell you my opinion on it. I’m here to tell you guys how I’ve been feeling with everything going on and maybe some of y’all might feel the same.

To start off, if you don’t know, the Black Lives Matter movement is a human rights movement that is trying to end violence and systemic racism towards black people.

A few weeks ago, a black man named George Floyd was killed by a white police officer in USA. This officer kneeled on Floyd’s neck for almost 9 minutes because it was thought that Floyd tried to pay with a counterfeit bill. Take away the black and white and see it as a human killing another for something as small as that (which could’ve been an accident as counterfeit bills do sometimes end up in circulation for a while until they’re found out). Then we can see the cruelty of this police officers actions.

Obviously this event sparked anger throughout the States, and as well as the rest of the world and has showed everyone the importance of the Black Lives Matter movement.

Now I know I said I’m not here to convince you to support the movement, but if you would like to I have links at the bottom of this post with multiple resources and charities you can learn and donate to.

Anyways the reason I’d like to talk about BLM is because of the social media attention it has garnered in the past couple weeks.

Suddenly, everyone is posting links, resources and pictures to advocate for the BLM. Not to say this is a bad thing but after a while it starts to weigh on you. Especially when people you are following and who follow you back think that because you are not posting as much as them about BLM, then you do not care and are in fact racist.

The thing is, not everyone needs to speak about BLM or even any movement on human rights. We just need everyone to listen. Everyone is entitled to take time away from social media, to take time for themselves and reflect on how they feel about the issue and how they could help. Just because someone is not constantly posting and sharing things about it does not mean they are immediately against the movement.

Another thing that I know my friends and I are very frustrated with is the feeling of helplessness. We want change to happen but sometimes it feels futile. Although the protests are creating waves across America and the world, what are the next steps? How will we make sure this change is permanent?

There’s so many questions that stem off BLM and the protests that are occurring. I don’t have answers and I’m not sure anyone has any feasible and realistic ones just yet.

Because of this, my friends and I spend hours feeling helpless. Even though we support the movement, donate to the causes and try to educate others on what it is, it still feels like not enough is changing.

However, from reflecting the past few days I realize that the world is changing. 2020 has definitely not been what anyone imagined, but if this BLM movement takes off and we can take steps towards treating all humans equal, then it may just turn out to be the best year yet.

Something I have learned from my mental health journey that I continually have to remind myself of is that change doesn’t always come in big ways. Any change (either big or small) that progresses you towards your end goal, is something to be proud of. It shows progress, growth and strength.

I know, at least for me it is easier said than done to have that mindset, but I personally think it’s a great one to try to adapt. No matter how big or small the problem, to try and solve it, we always have to take steps. Nothing happens all at once, so every step which is getting you a little closer to the end is a good thing.

One other thing I’d like to say is that, if you support the BLM movement and want to help make a change, don’t feel pressured to be advocating as much as others, or donating as much others. As long as everyone does what they can and tries to the best of their ability, change will come.

Finally, I’d just like to say that especially now, since a lot of countries are still on lockdown, seeing the BLM movement and all the posts may be overwhelming to some (I know at times it is for me). It is okay to take a break from everything. To turn off the tv, put down the phone and just focus on yourself for a little.

Yes I advocate for BLM but I also advocate for one’s self. If you’re not feeling your best and doing your best, how are you supposed to help anyone else. You may be able to a little, but we all do our best work when we’re feeling the best possible.

To end of this post I’m going to post a few links to some charities, and some sites that can educate you more on the BLM movement if you’d like to know more!

General link on how to help:

Resources to educate yourself:

What is Black Lives Matter:

There are many more resources available to everyone that can be found with a quick google search!

Advocate for what is right, advocate for what you believe in, but also remember to take care of yourself.

With lots of love,

Your Mental Health Mathie

Coping Mechanisms

Hey :).

So oops I have not written in a while. I’ve started two new posts but I just don’t know how to end them. So I’m writing a quick one now while I sit in the tub haha.

Anyways over the past week I’ve been pretty stressed with school so I thought I would write about some coping mechanisms again. And what’s good and bad about each of them.

To start, my biggest coping mechanism during school is still sleeping. If I get too overwhelmed or stressed I’ll take a nap to try and forget stuff for a while. When I wake up I usually feel so so or about the same as when I went to sleep. It’s definitely not a very helpful coping mechanism in my opinion but sometimes when I really need to shut the world out it’s what I go to. However, I can happily say that I have been turning to this less and less.

Another coping mechanism is either Netflix or baking or sometimes knitting. All of these get my mind off of my school work while also making me feel a little better because I don’t feel like I’ve wasted my day away doing nothing (although we can definitely argue Netflix might be wasting time haha). I prefer trying to do another activity than immediately nap because it makes me feel better and puts me in a headspace to try and tackle my problems again.

One thing I have found myself doing again that is definitely not healthy is stop eating. I’ve noticed when I become stressed I eat a lot. However when I become overwhelmed I stop eating altogether. It’s not on purpose but my body just doesn’t feel hungry and I forget to eat. Today, I only realized I didn’t eat anything at 4:00pm and even then I still wasn’t hungry. However, I knew I needed food so I had a light snack of fruits to keep myself going.

I know that the same thing happens to my friends so we check in on each other about eating when we know the other is stressed and overwhelmed. Having a reliable and trustworthy support system honestly does make everything a little easier because you know you’ll always have someone there to help you.

One final thing I want to say is that while on my SSRI’s I find I need a lot more water than while I wasn’t on them. Not sure if it’s just me or a proven thing but either way, water definitely not only is great because we need it to survive but it helps every part of your body.

I know this post was a little rushed and a mess but I just wasn’t feeling up to anything this week. I’ll do better on my next one haha.

With lots of love,

Your Mental Health Mathie 🙂

Hiding It

Hi :).

In this post I’m going to talk about how I hid my mental health for so long, what signs others may show and what definitely not to say to people going through mental health issues.

I am a person who always has a smile on her face. Whether I’m happy or sad, as soon as I’m around other people, I cant help but smile. Obviously this is very frustrating in some situations, especially when I’m mad or trying to be sympathetic towards someone.

This is probably one of the biggest reasons it was so easy for me to hide. I can always put a smile on my face when needed and I guess no one around me saw through it.

Another reason was distance. When I was going through my worst, my closest friends and family did not live with or near me and when I did see them on the odd weekend, it was very easy to pretend everything was fine. For a long time, I myself didn’t even accept that anything was wrong with and so it was easy to show others that I was okay.

I know these two reasons themselves don’t seem huge, but it’s what happened. The biggest reason aside from those is the fact that I myself didn’t accept that anything was wrong with me.

Over the years, from dealing with my own mental health, as well as trying to help some of my friends with there’s, I’ve learned that you can’t help anyone who doesn’t want to be helped. No matter how much you push or try, unless they themselves first accept that something is wrong and that they want help, nothing you say will help them.

For me, when I was first starting to show some signs of depression and anxiety, my cousins picked up on it and took me to therapy. However, I only went a couple times and didn’t take anything they or the therapist said to heart or into consideration. I was in denial. I was sure that whatever I was going through was a phase and that I didn’t need any help.

Also, one of my close friends admitted to many self harm practices that they do. However, whenever I try to check in or give them advice, they never listen and always swear that they don’t do it because they’re sad but just because they are bored. In my eyes though, whatever the reason, they still would benefit from help. However, every time I try to talk to them about it, they push me away. So I show them that I support them and that I’ll always be there for them when they are ready to talk about it.

Now I know that sometimes, with more severe mental illnesses, waiting around will not help the person if they are about to end their life. In this situation, the best thing is to go to the police if you believe they are in immediate danger of taking their lives.

If as well, if you don’t think waiting around is best even if its not as severe, you can always go to a trusted authority figure in their life, like a parent or teacher and try to bring them help that way.

No matter which option you choose, there will probably be a bit of time in which the person you are trying to help resists you. This is normal. Mental health still has a huge stigma around it and sometimes people may not necessarily want to accept that they have to work on theirs. Once the person starts accepting it and making some progress, they’ll see that you only wanted what was best for them.

I remember when my cousins first told my parents, I was terrified and upset with her. But after some time, getting help, and starting the process of fighting for myself, I realized she did it out of love and I’ll forever be grateful.

One last thing I wanted to talk about is what everyone says to me when they find out I have depression and am on meds. The most common is “You’re always so happy, I never would’ve guessed” or “Really? I never see you crying”. Honestly these two annoy me the most. Yes I hide it well, but so do a lot of people, and just because someone seems happy, doesn’t mean they are all the time. As well, depression doesn’t automatically mean crying. For me personally I cry very easily and all the time, but the two aren’t interchangeable as terms.

If someone trusts you enough and opens up about their mental health, be supportive. Don’t make offhand comments because even if you mean it as a joke, sometimes it’s not perceived that way.

Anyways, I still suck at ending these. So I’m just going to say, that’s all for now, and maybe try to take some time to check on those that are close to you.

With lots of love,

Your Mental Health Mathie

One Of My First Breakdowns

Hello 🙂

I’ve been thinking and reflecting a lot on my mental health progress ever since I started writing this blog and one thing I realized is how reluctant I was to get help. Back in high school, making sure my mental health was as healthy as the rest of me was not even on my radar. I was so stressed and anxious and caught up in the need to be perfect for my parents, that at the time, I didn’t even consider what it was doing to me.

One of my more significant breakdowns occurred sometime in Grade 11. I wouldn’t call it my biggest or worst breakdown, but looking back on it has definitely made me realize a few things. First, a little back story.

My cousins and I were raised very closely, almost like siblings. Because of this, we always spent huge amounts of time at each others houses and have always been close. I remember that one day, I was over at their place and it happened to be just me and my cousin.

I’m not sure if he knew something was wrong or just wanted to check up on me, but he asked me how I was. At first I was fine, I told him everything was fine but he didn’t believe me. He knew my relationship with my parents was strained and he asked about that. Again I said everything was fine, the same as it had always been. But again, he kept asking. The straw that broke the camel’s back (or in my case what made me breakdown) was when he asked me about my university plans.

Now I know that at the time I was only in grade 11, but my parents always drilled into my head about being prepared and always knowing what you wanted in life. Because of this university was a well discussed topic in my household from the time I started Grade 11. Every mark that wasn’t a 95 was scrutinized.

So, when my cousin asked me about how all this studying and planning was going, I lost it. I folded myself into a corner in the kitchen and started sobbing. In between sobs I cried about how no matter what I did, I would always be a disappointment to my parents, and about how nothing I could do would make them happy.

My cousin was obviously at a loss but he held me, comforted me and assured me that, no matter what happened, even if my parents were disappointed a little, they just wanted me to be happy. At the time, I really did not believe him, but I also did not to talk about my feelings anymore. I agreed and said that I would be fine and that was the end of the discussion for the night.

Over the next few weeks and months, he would repeatedly check in on me and ask me how I was doing. But, for the most part I lied and said everything was fine.

At the time, this experience was clearly not that significant to me. I just wanted to move past it and forget about it. However, looking back now, I realize a couple of things.

First, my heart breaks for the girl that I was and for all the children and teenagers out there going through the same thing that I did. The goal of being perfect and the best was drilled into my head so much by my parents that I didn’t even think they loved me beyond what I could accomplish academically. I know that a lot of people can relate to having family pressures and expectations piling up so high that you feel crushed under them. Every family and every person is different, but something that I think everyone should remember is that if your family truly loves and cares about you, they will want you to be happy more than they want you to kill yourself trying to reach every standard set by them.

I know this sounds very easy to say and probably changes nothing, but the biggest thing holding us (at least it did for me) back from accepting this, is fear. Fear that you’ll be the disappointment your family/loved ones always said you would be. Fear that if you can’t be the person they want you to be, then they’ll leave you. Fear that they won’t love you for who you are.

Now I’m not saying this is the case for everyone, but I do like to believe there are more good people than not out there. Usually parents who care that much about how their child does academically, do so because they love the child and want a good life for them. Sometimes our parents just don’t realize how much pressure they are putting on us which is why talking to them is definitely a step in the right direction (at least it was for me).

Another thing I realize is how important it is to check in on your friends/family. That was the first time in a long time that someone sat me down and really tried to find out how I was doing beyond just the surface. Looking back, I truly appreciate the effort my cousin put in, however I only wish I was more receptive to being helped earlier, than trying to convince myself I was fine and didn’t need anyone for so long. 

I think that it’s important to check in on your loved ones even if they aren’t receptive. Just showing them that you are there for them can do a lot more good than you think. I was only comfortable opening up to my friends and family after I knew I hit rock bottom, because they showed me that they would always love me and be there for me.

One of the main reasons it took me so long to seek out help and open up was because I didn’t want to be a burden on anyone. I know that people out there have much bigger problems in life and I didn’t want to complain about mine when it wasn’t that bad in comparison to many. This mindset was probably the most harmful to have.

Yes, there will always be someone out there who is going through worse than you, but that does not mean that your feelings and what you are going through count for nothing. Everyone’s experiences, feelings and emotions are valid and no one should make anyone feel otherwise. Being there for people you care about will eventually show them that you aren’t going to leave and hopefully one day they will be comfortable enough to open up.

At least in my case, the fact that my cousins and friends always showed they supported and loved me, made it easier to go to them for help in the end. I definitely think that if I didn’t feel like they loved me unconditionally, that I never would have opened up to them, even after I broke down in front of them.

Take time and check in on those you love. It is very easy to hide mental illnesses and you never know what anyone, even those closest to you could be going through. In my next post I think I’ll talk about how I was able to hide my depression and anxiety for so long. Not everyone who is depressed is sad all the time. But anyways, until next time.

With lots of love,

Your Mental Health Mathie

Life Since University Started

Hi again :).

Time for another late night post. So, in my last post I talked about what life was like for me during high school and where I believe my mental health journey to have started.

We last left off with me feeling relieved that I got to go away to university. To give you a frame of reference, I got to move out of my house and 2 hours away from my parents. I know this may not seem like a lot compared to others moving from different countries, but at the time, I thought this was the best thing ever to happen to me. And in some ways, I still believe that moving out was the best decision for me, but we will get to that.

I started my first year of uni in September 2017. During this first semester, it was obviously a huge learning curve, but I had a group of friends I studied and hung out with and life was seemingly okay. It was when first midterm marks started to roll in that I once again felt the pressure of my parents. The university plainly tells all students that most of us will see a drop of at least 15-20% in averages from high school to university. However, at first, my parents did not understand this and were disappointed with the 60s and 70s I got which was a vast difference to the 90s in high school.

This time around however, it was easier to ignore their pressure because I was not living with them and I almost never visited home. At the time, my relationship with my parents was so rough that even when I did go home, I always planned out my weekends so that I spent the least amount of time possible at home. As I found out later, this was probably not the smartest thing to do.

Things continued this way well into second semester, but it was in March when things really started to fall apart. My dad was upset that every time I came home, I never spent any time hanging out with him and my mom and barely even talked to them. So, one weekend when I came home, he said I wasn’t allowed to go out. This of course upset me and I ended up just shutting myself away in my room. However, my mom would have none of that and continually pestered me about what was wrong. It was at that point I snapped.

I finally broke down and screamed. I yelled at my parents for suffocating me, for invading my privacy, for being the reason I never came home. That night, crying and yelling on the couch, I finally started to let go of 3 years worth of pent up hurt and anger towards my parents. To say the least, both of them were shocked. While my mom tried to comfort me and listen, my dad did the opposite and lashed out saying I was ungrateful and even stopped talking to me for a while.

The weekend ended and I went back to Waterloo. My dad only speaking a few words to me and mom trying to be overly supportive. I’m not sure exactly what caused what happened next but it was definitely one of my lowest points in life.

Once I got back to Waterloo on Sunday, I thought everything would be fine. I woke up the next morning and didn’t feel like going to class, so I skipped and slept all day. I woke up around 7/8 pm that day, used the bathroom, had a chewy bar and went back to bed. This went on for 2 weeks. Every morning I’d wake up, being unable to muster the energy to move, and then fall back asleep. During these 2 weeks I sleep for 22-23 hours a day, only waking up to use the bathroom and sometimes eat.

Honestly I’m not sure how I survived. I barely remember eating or drinking much water during that time. I had fallen into a deep depression. I couldn’t move, only when I really had to use the bathroom, and then I would come straight back to bed. No one close to me knew what was happening because I made sure to respond to texts so no one would bother me.

However, my Waterloo friends did notice since I did not go to class for 2 full weeks. They tried to ask me what was wrong and I just brushed it off as I needed a break because I was burnt out. I don’t and never will blame them for not trying harder because at the time, I didn’t want that. And I told every lie that I could come up with to make it seem like I was okay. 

I honestly think that if finals season didn’t roll around, I would’ve been in that semi-comatose state for a lot longer. After 2 weeks had passed, I realized that it was the last week of class and if I didn’t get my act together and study, I was going to fail the semester. I really think that this was the only reason I got up and started living again.

I pulled myself up, went to class, studied 24/7 so I didn’t have to think about my life, and passed my courses. I never told anyone about what happened during those two weeks. I knew that I had the signs of depression but I really did not want to admit that to myself at the time. A big reason for this was my parents.

At the time, they had no exposure to people dealing with mental health issues. Multiple times when I had talked to them about suicides that had happened on campus and how sad it was, their response would be “only crazy people do that”. At the time, I was angry and felt like I could never open up to them about what I had been going through so I didn’t.

Summer came and went and everything was still seemingly fine. I hadn’t had another depressive episode and all in all my summer was okay so I thought that I had put everything behind me and I was okay. Boy was I wrong. All I had been doing was letting my feelings build up more.

In Sept 2018, I started my second year of university. And in October I had my second depressive episode. Similar to the first, I barely functioned for 2 weeks. This time around, I stopped trying to fight it after the first few days. I told myself this happened before, that this was what I needed, and that after two weeks I would be fine again and able to finish my semester. So I let it happen, didn’t function for 2 weeks, hid it from everyone, and then continued about my life as if nothing was wrong. However, I was wrong again.

In November 2018, my best friends (who all went to different universities than me) and I all met up for a weekend of fun and partying. This was definitely not one of my finest moments, but I got black out drunk. It is the only time it has ever happened to me and to this day I still only have flashes of memory of the night.

Turns out, once we got home from the club, I broke down. I cried and sobbed and begged my friends not to make me go back to Waterloo, to go home. I told them I hated my life so much, that I just didn’t want to be here anymore, that I didn’t know how long I could continue like this.

Being my friends for 10 years, this obviously concerned them. They sat me down the next morning and said listen, we don’t know what exactly has been going on, but you need to get help and talk to someone. As much as they wanted to help me, they knew they weren’t equipped to do it alone. They gave me an ultimatum and said if I didn’t tell my family (at the time my cousins were my biggest support system) within the week, then they would do it.

I’m not saying this is the answer to helping everyone, but it worked on me because honestly I did want help, and I did want to get better. The next night, I told my cousin everything, about the depressive episodes, the anxiety and the thoughts about self harm and suicide. She immediately told my parents, knowing that this wasn’t something we could solve alone.

The next day, my parents texted me that they were at my front door here to see me. We had a long discussion and this is when things started to get better. I could see that as I talked about what I was going through, that they didn’t understand. They were brought up in very conservative households and are immigrants. Mental health was a whole new topic that they didn’t understand and were not informed about. But, I could see they were trying.

They took me to my family doctor and when he diagnosed me depression and anxiety, they sat and listened to all he was saying. When he suggested I start taking SSRI’s, I could see that this not what they wanted but they still wanted what was best for me so they agreed.

It was from here on out that our relationship started mending and we are where we are today. Them accepting my mental health did not happen overnight. Sure they tried to be supportive, but I could tell they were uncomfortable with the topic for a long time. Although it bothered me a little, I was happy and relieved that they were trying to help me get better.

Months passed and I started going to therapy. I really do value therapy and think it is a very helpful tool if the person them self wants to get better.

Lets rewind a bit. In March 2018, before my first depressive episode, my cousins could tell that something was wrong but they could not get me to open up. So to try and help this, they asked if I would see an on campus counsellor. I agreed and went to one session, however at the time, I did not want to get better because I told myself I was fine and that they were just over reacting. Obviously, because of this mindset, that session did not help much at all.

Back to Spring 2019. I started going to therapy about 1-2 times a week, and went for about 6 months. For me, it was a world of help. It was through therapy that I realized just how far back everything started, but also where I realized just how far I had come. It not only helped me come to terms with what I was going through, it helped me fully forgive my parents and move past all the hurt and resentment I carried towards them.

My parents and I are now closer than we have ever been. I talk to them about almost everything in my life (of course some things your parents just don’t need to know haha) and they are very open and accepting towards my mental health journey. As soon as they realized this was something serious, they read every article and book they could find about mental health and depression in particular. I was so thankful for this because never in a million years did I think my conservative parents would be accepting of all that I was going through and it really meant everything to me.

I have now been on SSRI’s for a little over a year. Although I have come a long way in my mental health, it has not been without its ups and downs. Mental health is one of the hardest things I have had to fight for in my life but it’s worth it because I want to be happy.

I think that is at the crux of it all – you have to want to get better, want to be happy. For whatever the reason may be, you have to want it before you can truly start to take the steps to get better.

Do I think that I am 100% better? Definitely not. Do I think that I am on the right path? Definitely. Even though I still have days where I really struggle to get out of bed or to do my homework or to do anything, I am happy with where I am in life. I am happy and proud of the progress I’ve made and thankful that I’ve been surrounded by love and support from those around me.

I know that we all have those points of things just feeling absolutely hopeless, where we just want to give up, but you have to think, is this all I want, where I just want to stop? Or do I want to one day be in a better place? Although others will be there to support you, no one can fight your battles. You have to do that yourself, and if and when you do, the progress you make is so worth it. At least that’s what I believe.

Anyways, I think I have rambled on in this post for long enough. I know I didn’t get into too much detail about my highs and lows after starting my SSRI’s and actually accepting my illness but I will get to all that in future posts. For now, I just want to show everyone that this is my mental health journey so far and that if you thought you’re the only one going through certain things, that you’re not.

I kind of suck at ending these things haha. But yeah. I’ll try and have the next post up soon. Don’t even know if anyone is reading this but it’s a good goal for myself lol. Also I apologize for all grammar mistakes, I’m trying me best :).

With lots of love,

Your mental healh Mathie ❤

My High School Life

Hello :).

Although I probably won’t be posting as frequently in the future, I just wanted to give people a little insight as to what they might be reading about here.

I think I’ll start off by kind of just going through a general ish overview of my mental health journey thus far. I’m still trying to decide how to layout the whole blog and how each post should be structured, but I think its easiest if I start with my journey and how I dealt with it and then move onto other things.

First, I’m going to talk about my life before University and then in my next post will talk about life after University had started. Before we start though, I’d like to say that although my parents and I did have a rough patch, we have worked through it the past couple of years and are probably closer than ever right now. You’ll see how this comes to be in my next post.

Anyways, throughout high school, I always had really bad anxiety, especially in Grades 11 and 12. There were numerous times I broke down in the school bathroom that no one, not even my closest friends, knew about. I think that at the time, I had the strictest parents in my friend group and we all knew it.

When I think back on it, in Grade 11-12, my parents almost never gave me a break. Even in the summer when I was supposed to take some time to relax, I would be given sets of math questions, have to go to piano theory lessons and study for the SATs. I know this may sound like just a normal workload to some, but to me, with all the pressure they put on me to be perfect, coupled with the fact I had absolutely no privacy, it was like a prison.

Let’s rewind a little and talk about the issues of no privacy. I think that in most child/parent relationships, there comes a time when you start to pull away from your parents and want to be your own person. You start hiding things, arguing what they say, really just trying to show that hey, I am my own person and this is who I am. I think that for a lot of us, high school is a time where we are trying to break out a little and see who we are. We have new friends, we start to see the real world around us and we have to start thinking about what we’re going to do with our future. Through all this, our parents are there to guide us, but there is a difference between guiding and controlling. And this is where my parents got it wrong.

I think that the turning point in my relationship with my parents happened in Grade 10. I was grounded for two weeks (phone and laptop taken away) for being caught staying up until 3am texting my friends, which included a boy. My parents are very conservative and this was as huge no even though we weren’t dating or doing anything. I was obviously upset about being grounded but in the grand scheme of things, this upset me way less than what happened next.

Once they took my phone, they read through all the texts I had ever sent that guy. On top of that, they tried to text him pretending to be me as well as text my friends pretending to be me to see if they could get more information. I had told everyone I normally text that I did not have my phone anymore, the next day at school, so no one responded, but I was in shock and so upset because they tried this numerous times even though they never got a response.

Two weeks later, I got my phone and laptop back and I thought that  that would be the end. However, after that, every night after my parents thought I had fallen asleep, they would come into my room and take my phone. At this point they had made me give them the password to my phone and fb account. And every night they would check who I talked to, and I assume read some messages, as they would leave conversations open (that I hadn’t left open) which I saw the next morning when they put the phone back in my room before I woke up.

To add to this, they also had my iPhone messages upload directly to their computer and read them almost everyday, if not everyday. Which I know because they confronted me many times on things I had texted to other people and wouldn’t even try to hide the fact they had been snooping.

This went on for almost 2 years. I had no privacy and no one to talk to. I couldn’t text my friends, I was let to go hangout with them maybe once a month and at this point my parents were my number one enemies and I could barely stand being home. I think it was after this had been going on for a few months when I started to become very anxious. I hated being home, I felt like anything I did, my parents would know and I would get in trouble and I was just generally not happy.

It got to the point where I joined any club I could, so that I could spend more time at school and not go home. During that time, staying at school with my friends, was probably one of my biggest escapes. When I got home, I wasn’t allowed to watch TV or play games or use my phone (because they would’ve seen anything I had done) on weekdays so I shut myself in my room doing homework and then reading books as my other escape.

Books was one of the biggest parts of my life before university. I almost was always reading some book or another. For me, reading was an acceptable pass-time to my parents so I took full advantage of it. When I read, I wasn’t myself anymore or living my life, I was living in the world of the book right next to the characters I was reading about. It made me forget, even just for a little, about the pressures and reality of my own life.

There were so many times in Grades 10-12 where I used to breakdown and cry in the shower. It was honestly the only place I had for myself. I remember I used to always wait for my parents to be home from work before I showered, because that meant that I had to spend less time with them. It was also during this time that I used to take at least 30 mins showers where I could just be by myself to think or cry.

It was during this time that I needed someone the most I think. I felt so trapped. Sure I would tell my friends some of what was happening when we were at school, but for the most part I held everything in. I had so many pent up feelings of anger, betrayal and sadness and looking back I can see how much I hated my life at the time.

In the scheme of things, I think that books was one of my healthier coping mechanisms. Sure it didn’t help me face my problems head on, but it helped me relax and for a time eased the ball of tightness I was always feeling in my chest.

I think that my healthiest coping mechanism to this day is talking to my friends and/or family. Even in high school, while I did feel trapped because I was a minor and had to obey my parents rules, talking to my friends and joining clubs really helped me. I think if it weren’t for them, I definitely would have started self harming earlier (see my next post for more on this) or gone down a much darker path.

For me, talking to others provides me a feeling of relief. Although the idea of it at first is terrifying, because I feel like others will judge me, after I open up, I can feel my anxiety lessen greatly. Humans aren’t meant to be alone, and opening up to others and feeling supported, does so much more good than I ever could have imagined.

I know that a lot of people are not as fortunate as I am to have a great support system which is why I want to say that if you ever need to talk to anyone, please do not hesitate to reach out, whether it be through the comments or through email.

At the end of Grade 12, I decided that I was going to pursue a Math degree at the University of Waterloo. My friends, cousins and I used to joke that this was finally my way to get out of the prison I had felt like I had been living in. And, in a way it was because I could finally live without my parents breathing down my neck every second. But at the same time, it wasn’t everything I had hoped for.

I don’t want to make each of these too long for now so I’ll stop there. In my next post I’ll talk about my mental health since university has started and then we’ll see where we should go from there :).

With lots of love,

Your Mental Health Mathie ❤